Page 33 of Wild Infatuation (Rebel Rockstars #3)

Shawn

Five years later...

“LOOK UP.”

I obey, and our eyes meet. Terrance’s fingers rest under my chin, tilting my head up, and he draws me even closer as our gaze locks, indulging in a brief, warm kiss.

He pulls away quickly and tries to get back to work, but I grab his shirt and keep him close, my tongue invading his mouth.

He moans around it before he can stop himself, and then there’s no holding me back.

I threaten to leap up out of the makeup chair before Terrance finally sets a hand on my chest and forces me back down.

“You’re ruining all my hard work,” he says, pouting adorably.

“I’ve been ruining your hard work for years, babe.”

“Yes, and I’m mad about it every time. Now stay still and look up.”

I obey, but not without muttering, “You did kiss me first, by the way.”

He doesn’t respond, focusing on wiping his shiny lip gloss off my mouth and fixing the thick, dark eyeliner around my eyes.

All these years, and I basically dress the same when it comes to Baptism Emperor shows.

Dark eyeliner, lots of piercings, tattoos on display in a cut-off shirt, and hair teased up to show the shaved sides.

It’s not that different from how I dressed when we were upstarts playing at crappy dive bars, but in all the ways that really matter, I’m a completely different man from the one who performed in exchange for a beer.

For one thing, I’ve given Terrance my entire heart and soul these past five years, trusted him with all of me, and I haven’t regretted it for even a second.

That would be unfathomable to the stupid, hurt kid I was when Baptism Emperor first started playing together.

That kid was terrified even to trust his friends, but I’m happy to say that person is nothing more than a figment of my past. Terrance has integrated into my life in every possible way.

He’s with me every day, and there’s no one I trust the way I trust him.

I’ve opened up about things I thought I’d never utter out loud, but instead of being a terrifying, anxiety-inducing experience, that trust has only brought us closer through the years.

Meanwhile, the band has continued getting bigger in the past five years.

This wild ride we’re on doesn’t seem to be ending any time soon, but we’ve been able to stay true to ourselves and our music throughout the journey.

Terrance has helped ground me, helped remind me that away from the lights and cameras I’m just a guy who picked up a guitar one day.

Tonight, however, I’m a rockstar.

Terrance finishes fussing over me, taking a step back to observe his handiwork. He smiles, stupidly smitten even though he sees me every day, and my chest goes warm and fuzzy in a very un-rockstar-like way.

“You’re ready,” he declares. “Get out there. They’re waiting for you.”

Even back here, the excited murmuring of the crowd creates a constant drone. I rise from the chair, immune to the buzz after experiencing it so many times. Instead, I step up to Terrance and cup his face to indulge in one final kiss, a gentler one so he doesn’t have to send me back to that chair.

“See you after the show,” I say.

He smiles, those soft green eyes I adore shining with a private joy just for us.

Then I release him, heading out of the hair and makeup room and toward the stage, where the rest of the band waits. They greet me with slaps on the shoulder and back. Levi waves past me at Terrance. Jacob is bouncing, like he always is right before a show.

Suddenly, the lights go down, plunging the arena into pitch darkness. The crowd titters with anticipation. Light returns, strobes flashing over the stage and crowd. The murmur grows, then swells into shrieking as Dan trots out.

Levi winks at me before he goes next. Then Keannen is strutting out there, waving his drumsticks. I’m next, and the lights blind me as I step onto the stage. Screaming buffets me, threatening to tip me over no matter how many times I’ve endured it.

Last comes Jacob, and that arena damn near explodes.

It’s a wonder the roof doesn’t fall on our heads with how much noise those thousands and thousands of people out there make for our lead singer.

When he reaches the mic, he doesn’t even pause, instantly screaming into it to rile them up even more.

I don’t know if they hear the first song at all with how busy they are screaming.

I’ve done this so many times in the past five years, but every time it’s a blur.

Every time it’s like gliding through a dream, coming in and out as images and colors flash past me.

By the time it’s over, I’m soaked with sweat and thrumming with adrenaline, but the moment I step off the stage, Terrance is there, my anchor, my tether, the most solid, stable, reliable, true thing in my entire life.

I stride up to him, kissing him mid-step.

We keep moving until his back hits a wall, his hands tangled in my shirt.

When I let go, he laughs, and I marvel that this man is mine.

It always feels more real back at the home we share, back in that quiet, private place where we strip off the makeup and nice clothes, where we’re just two people who have to cook dinner and make the bed and pay the electricity bill.

But moments like these, moments where the high is heady and fresh, serve to remind me that I’ve got the greatest life in the entire world.

And it’s definitely not a phase.