Page 21 of When It Reins (Three Rivers Trevors Ranch #5)

juniper

There is no reason to be obsessing about each curl on my head, or how each eyelash looks on my eyes, or how wrinkly or not my dress is.

But here I am, standing in a green room backstage, my breath coming in panicked puffs as I stare at myself in the mirror. I’ve never been the type to stress over what I wore on stage. If I was good enough, they wouldn’t care what I was wearing.

We are set to go on in twenty minutes, and each agonizing second before that is killing my stomach.

A knock sounds from the door, and I turn just in time to see Felicity entering, her smile bright and excited.

“Almost time!” She comes to me, fixing stray hairs and taking a look at my clothes herself. “You are going to be amazing out there. Don’t let that inner demon tell you any different.”

“How’d you know there was a demon?” I ask, giving a false laugh to try to sound calm.

“Girl, I always have that demon.” She grabs my shoulders and looks me in the eye.

“It’s called impostor syndrome. The little voice in your head saying you aren’t good enough, that someone else is better than you, or that you shouldn’t be here.

But if that was true, you wouldn’t feel that pull here.

” She taps my belly button. “And you wouldn’t be opening for such a huge concert either.

People love you, and they’re going to love your music and your sound. ”

“I’m only here because of you.”

Felicity frowns and almost looks offended. “What? No, you’re not. I merely showed a label your music. The rest was up to them.”

“What if they don’t like me after this?”

Felicity shrugs, her bright eyes imploring mine. “Then fuck ’em. Will that stop you from doing what you love?”

I think about singing at the bar—how I get to perform for my friends and family with no pressure, just for the fun of it—and shake my head.

“Then stop worrying. Go out there with that stud of yours and show them what you do best.”

I laugh, shaking my head and about to refute the whole my stud part when he walks in the door. He is wearing jeans and a black button-up shirt, his sleeves rolled up his forearms. And if I’m not mistaken, there is some sort of hair gel in his hair.

He looks good enough to eat.

“Ready?” he asks, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “They’re asking for us side stage.”

I take a breath, and Felicity wishes us good luck, leaving the room. Mitch watches me carefully, and I wish he would come over here and distract me.

I can’t ask him to do that, though.

Thinking back to last night, I remember the way we all danced in the nightclub.

It was noticeable how uncomfortable a scene it was for Mitch.

He wasn’t the type that went clubbing, but then I got bold, I got brave, and I danced my way over there after working up a sweat with Felicity and laughing our asses off.

He smirked at me, watching my movements as he stood off to the side of the dance floor.

He was close enough to watch us, keeping an eye on everyone just like Felicity’s team of security was, but far enough away to be an outsider to our group.

But I don’t want him to feel like an outsider. I want him to feel a part of everything. I want him to know that he is cared for, that he is loved, that I, personally, want him to be by me.

So I boldly slid my arms up over his shoulders, plastering myself to his body. I’d probably had a little too much to drink, letting myself let loose for the first time in a long time.

Instead of pushing me away, though, he hooked his arms around the small of my back, his eyes smoldering with heat I rarely saw there, and he grinned down at me.

From there, I pulled him onto the dance floor, letting our bodies move together as one and watched as he finally let loose again with me, relaxing into the movements.

After clubbing, we made a late-night run to a popular fast-food joint, all four of us ravenous after hours of drinking and dancing. Then Mitch and I laid on the bed, shoes kicked off and still in our going out clothes, each stealing bites of random food we had spread out around us.

It may seem silly and unsexy, but it was one of the best nights of my life, and I have a feeling it had everything to do with the man walking toward me.

“You okay, Starling?” He looks at me intently, his golden hazel eyes momentarily captivating me and keeping me from answering.

I blink, snapping out of it and smile at the nickname. “Nervous.”

Bewildered, he shakes his head. “You? You have nothing to be nervous about.”

“Sure, I do. There are a lot of people out there.”

He steps toward me, reaching out and grabbing my hands. I let him, feeling my heart pump wildly in my chest. I ache for him to bring me into his body, to hold me there, and then kiss me until I forget what I’m nervous about.

“You’re amazing, Little Starling. Nothing about you should surprise me anymore, but you always manage to.” He runs a finger over my cheek, and I blink my eyes open, realizing I closed them involuntarily.

“Just look at me out there, yeah? We’ll get through this together.” He moves his hand over my jaw until he’s holding my neck, the hold so intimate that I am worried I am going to burst from how much I love it.

“Why do you call me that?” I ask, my curiosity piqued despite the odd timing. We are getting ready to perform in front of twenty thousand people, but I am suddenly desperate to know the answer.

He opens his mouth, his brow furrowing but not in a frustrated way, more like he’s trying to think of how to say what he wants to.

Finally, he clears his throat and says, “When I first started working at Bottle Grounds, when you’d be getting ready to sing, you’d walk around humming or whistling while you got ready.

You still do it. And it reminded me of a songbird.

” He shrugs. “It wasn’t intentional, just something I felt fit.

” His thumb strokes over my cheek, and I resist the temptation of pressing forward.

“Every time I went to work, I looked forward to hearing you sing and feeling peace.”

I wrinkle my brow. “Peace?”

He looks at me, his eyes holding me hostage, and says, “Don’t you know you’re the only thing that brings my soul comfort, Little Starling?” Mitch shrugs. “I can’t be myself with anyone, but with you, someone I consider my best friend in the world, I’m able, for a while, to finally feel calm.”

I press forward then, my lips pressing lightly to his, and feel what he’s talking about. That calm, that peace, that comfort between us is unmatched. Nothing and no one has ever made me feel this way before.

The door opens again, breaking the moment, and I glance over his shoulder to see the guy who I was introduced to as the stage manager motioning us out. “Time to roll, guys.”

I smile at Mitch and start to walk out, startled for a moment when he grips my hand and walks beside me. We catch up to the stage manager, and I look at him. “What’s your name?”

He looks surprised by the question, but gives me a polite smile and says, “Gary.”

“Nice to meet you, Gary. Thanks for helping us today.”

He holds his smile and nods his head. “My pleasure.”

Then he runs us through the set one more time, telling us he’ll let us know when we’re nearly out of time.

“No encores for opening acts,” he states as if Mitch and I were going to go rogue and add in an extra song.

“Okay,” I answer, still confused.

The concert is outdoors, and the sun is only nearly set, so the lights on stage contrast with the sun, making it only a little noticeable when the lights dim before we go on stage.

I gasp when I look at the screen behind the stage and see my name lit up, someone having made some graphic for it. “Oh my gosh.”

Jax pops up and laughs, taking a picture of it. “Your sisters are going to love this.”

Mitch smiles at me, his eyes lit with what I hope is pride. “Ready?”

I take a breath, settling my nerves, and nod. “Ready.”

Flight.

That’s what it felt like.

When I open my mouth and sing my first note, I don’t expect the audience to do anything but listen. And I was right, there were some cheers when we came out, but it was when we finished our first song that applause and screams and cheers rang out that I hadn’t been expecting.

Then we launched into our next song. This one had much more of a stomping and dancing tune to it, making it more fun for the audience, and people started to dance.

I looked at Mitch and saw him already staring at me, smiling broadly in a way that was so rare I’d nearly forgotten the next lyrics.

But I pulled it together and sang my heart out for an audience larger than any I’ve ever sung to before.

Slowly, the background started to filter in around me, and I saw lights in the audience, beach balls being tossed around, people holding up their drinks, and singing along to the cover song I did.

It was everything I had hoped it would be.

Side stage, we are waiting for Felicity’s set to start, which is the final act of the night given that she is a much bigger star. Heroes of Tomorrow had just finished their set, and we are backstage talking to them when Felicity runs to me, her new manager in tow.

“Junie! Sing with me tonight.” She grabs my hands and watches me excitedly.

“Sing with you?” I ask, those pesky nerves finding me again.

“Just a song or two! Come on, we can do that duet we worked on last session.”

I blink, my eyes widening at the prospect.

“Of course she will,” Mitch answers from behind me.

I turn. “I don’t know. This is bigger than singing alone.”

“Come on. We do great at the festival. This is no different.” Felicity shakes my arms a bit. She grins eagerly at me, making me realize that this girl would have done wonders as an older sister, but I’m grateful for how much she seems to care about me now.

I laugh and nod my head. “Okay.”

“Yay!” She claps her hands and turns to her manager, Ted. “See, I told you she would.”

“You were right. Listen, Juniper,” he says, getting my attention. “The label was really impressed with your set. Make sure you answer any unknown numbers.”

I feel my jaw fall slightly and nod my head, half-numb to what he was saying. “Okay.”

He smiles at me and shakes my hand, then Mitch’s. “I have a feeling they like the both of you.”

Shock fills my core, and I vaguely recognize Felicity getting ready to head on stage, the dimming of the lights, the roar of the crowd, the opening notes to her first song.

A hand grabs mine, hesitantly at first and then firmly until Mitch turns me around, placing a hand on my cheek to get my attention.

“You good, Starling?”

I nod my head, my mouth stretching into a grin as all the news from the day floods me. “They’re interested in us.”

“In you,” he responds, his eyes roaming over my face. The look he’s giving me isn’t like any he’s ever given me before, and I want to sit and bask in the sight of it. “You blew them away.”

“I had help. From you, from Felicity, her band. None of this was just me,” I reply, my eyes dragging down to his lips.

I want to throw caution to the wind with him, right here, right now.

I want to not worry about the aftermath of what could happen if I am the one to take another first step, to show this man that I am still interested, that I am more than interested.

That I think our souls are quite possibly connected in a way neither of us has ever experienced.

After our little conversation in the green room, I am convinced he feels that way too.

Mitch is more than I ever expected, and I like every single thing about him.

He is strong, smart, skilled, protective, and loyal.

He is a man who wouldn’t leave town until he was sure his family would be safe.

He is selfless, and his family has no idea.

He is a man, that despite being gone from his hometown for a decade, he still came home and honored the deal he made with the MC.

He is everything I never knew I needed in my life.

“Mitch—”

“Now, please give it up once again for Juniper Weaver!” I blink in surprise and turn my head, seeing Felicity wave me on stage excitedly.

I turn back to Mitch and smile, my mind more than made up, and pat his chest. “Hold that thought.”

He smiles quizzically at me, giving me another glimpse of the man who is hiding under the rough exterior.

I am determined to be the woman who breaks through that, who claims the man inside and shows him what he doesn’t think, that he was and is a good man.

Felicity and I launch into our song, smiling widely at the crowd, feeding off each other’s energy. The crowd is much rowdier with Felicity than with me, but I still have the time of my life.

But, in the corner of my mind, my intentions are clear, and I am ready to make what I’ve been daydreaming about for months happen.

So when the song ends and Felicity hugs me, asking for another round of applause for me, and I wave to the crowd one last time. I rush off the stage, hand my mic to one of the stagehands, and launch myself at Mitch.

He is ready for me, catching me under my legs as I wrap myself around him. I take his face in my hands and, finally, kiss the man who’s been my real-life knight in shining armor and only thought for two years.

His lips move against mine seamlessly, like he was waiting for me to make this move, to push us here. His mouth opens, and I happily oblige his unsaid request. The moment is perfect and sweet and sensual, and his hold on me is tight, like he’s terrified to let me go.

For several seconds or minutes, we stay like that until I pull away for a breath and wrap my arms more firmly around his shoulders, holding him tight.

His arms around my waist tighten, and he grips me like he’s afraid to let go.

I want to tell him he never has to.