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He tries again. And again.

“Uh, these aren’t scanning,” he says, his tone shifting from routine to wary. “Where did you get these?”

My stomach twisted. “They’re legit. My ex gave them to me.”

The guard exchanges a look with his colleague. “Yeah… these are fake.”

Heat rushes to my face. I can feel the eyes of the fans behind us, their excitement momentarily dimming as they tune into the unfolding drama. Of course, Randy had to ruin this too.

Christie, ever the fearless one, leans in, batting her lashes. “Are you sure? I mean, come on, isn’t there anything you can do?”

The guard gives her a flat look, unimpressed. “Sorry, but I can’t let you in with these.”

A sinking feeling takes hold in my chest. This is supposed to be our night. I’d finally been happy, and now—

“Let ’em in.”

The voice is low, smooth, carrying the weight of someone used to being obeyed. I turn just in time to see a tall figure in a hoodie and a ballcap strolling past. He doesn’t slow, doesn’t look back. But something about him sends a jolt through me.

The guard stiffens, pressing a hand to his earpiece as he listens to something on the other end. A beat later, he exhales sharply and turns back to us.

“Looks like you’re good to go,” he says, his tone begrudging but final. Then, with a smirk, he holds out two lanyards. “Oh, and uh, you’ve both been upgraded to backstage passes.”

Christie and I gawk at him. “What?” I breathe.

“Enjoy the show,” he adds, waving us through as though this is just another day on the job.

I reach out with a shaky hand, taking the lanyard and draping it around my neck. It feels surreal, like something out of a dream.

Christie clutches my arm, practically vibrating. “Oh my God, oh my God. This is happening.”

I turn back, scanning the crowd for the mystery man. But he is already gone, swallowed by the sea of fans. My heart pounds as I clutch the pass against my chest.

Who the hell was that?

7.Eddie

SeeingLaney outside in the line as I did my habitual walkabout before the concert had seemed like fate. Before every concert, I like to get out and take in the atmosphere, the excitement, and let it burn through my veins. Being close to the fans is the part I love the most, knowing I elicited that excitement, is heady.

I smile as I walk away, adjusting my cap lower over my face. Seeing Laney’s reaction had been almost too good. Part of me wanted to turn around, to see the exact moment she realizes she’s getting into the concert because of me.

But I don’t. Not yet. That asshole ex of hers makes me want to crumble his face into dust. How could anyone treat a woman like her as anything but the princess she was?

I pull out my phone and shoot a quick message to my manager.

Make sure those girls get the VIP treatment.

I give him Laney’s name and say she is with a friend and can practically hear his confused reply forming, but I shove my phone back into my pocket before it can come through.

I should be focusing on the show. On the tour. On the thousands of people who’ll be screaming my lyrics back to me in a matter of hours. But instead, my mind keeps drifting to her.

Laney.

Ever since that night in the park, her voice has been playing in my head like a song I can’t shake. That raw, soulful sound—it has gotten under my skin.

And I’m not sure I want it to leave.

But Lucas’s warning still echoes in my ears. She’s not someone you mess with. I wasn’t trying to mess with her. Hell, I don’t even know what I’m trying to do. But the thought of her walking away tonight thinking I haven’t thought about her, doesn’t sit right.