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The response is immediate, exasperation clear in the man’s voice. “Come on, Olivia, be real. This is how things work, and you know it. It’s not even full-on nudes. No biggie.”
There’s a moment of silence before the woman replies, “I can’t deal with this right now. I . . . I have to go.”
We’re all standing there as the skinny guy finally lets go of the door, and it shuts with a loudthud. He shuffles on his feet, and we continue to stare at each other awkwardly.
“Mmh, Miss Parker will be right out.”
He spins on his heels and speed-walks away.
No one speaks, everyone unsure of what we just overheard.
The silence is broken when Phoenix takes the T-shirt from my hand and tosses it straight at Holden’s face.
He glares at both of us in return, and I’m quick to hold up my hands to proclaim my innocence but can’t help myself and whisper, “Hurry up.”
He rolls his eyes at me, not for the first time today either, and I can’t wait for him to get over this mood and return to his usual perky self.
Much to everyone’s surprise—I think Mason’s gasp was the loudest—Holden doesn’t put on the shirt over the one he’s already wearing, but instead, we watch him pull his black shirt off and toss it at a chuckling Phoenix.
Holden tugs the new shirt over his head at the exact moment the door opens again, and Olivia Parker steps out. Her gaze darts around, immediately landing on Holden, who’s frozen with one arm in the T-shirt and the other still out, exposing most of his chiseled torso. And boy, he is ripped with a capital R.
Secretly, I’ve been waiting to see how Olivia reacts to seeing Holden again, especially since he still hasn’t told me what went down between them. And she doesn’t disappoint. She goes rigid and blinks as if she’s trying to discern whether she’s seeing a mirage.
Her sharp inhale is a bonus. She lets her gaze roam over Holden’s chest and abs, down his black jeans and scuffed brown boots, before returning to his face. “Holden?”
He finally manages to push his other arm into the sleeve and pulls the shirt down. “Hey, Hurricane.”
Olivia closes the distance between them and flings herself at Holden, much like I did earlier, but to a much better reception. He wraps his arms tightly around her and burrows his face into her neck, and I hearher muffled, “I can’t believe you’re really here” against his shoulder before she draws back and knees him in the balls.
Holden sinks to the floor, and we all gasp.
For a moment, he’s silent.
Then he hisses through his teeth, “Looks like someone’s still mad.”
“Screw you.” She spins on her heel and steps toward me, stopping a few feet before me, this time with a beautiful smile. “You must be Evangeline.”
My manners kick in, and I shake her outstretched hand on autopilot. “Evie, please.”
She winks. “Evie, it is. I’m so sorry about this.” She points her thumb over her shoulder at Holden. “Please don’t hold it against me. He knows he deserved much worse. But anyway, it’s so nice to meet you, and I’m thrilled to have you here tonight. I’m obsessed with your music.”
It takes me a few seconds to reboot my brain, and all I manage to stutter is, “Uh . . . thank you.”
Did she seriously just complimentmymusic?
Thank you, universe, for blowing up my music online.
Never in a million years did I think my covers and originals would reach someone like Olivia though. This must be a dream. Someone pinch me.
Mentally, I add aSorry, Hold. I’ll be outraged on your behalf once I’m down from cloud nine.
She waves her hand around our little group. “Thank you all for being here. It means a lot.”
Everyone talks over each other, and Olivia chuckles. The ominous door opens again, and Gavin Bryce walks out—Olivia’s manager and rumored boyfriend.
Holden pushes himself off the floor, and Gavin frowns at us.
Without a hello, he dismisses us, his gaze zeroing in on Olivia. “Backstage, now.”