Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
I’ve never been one for live shows, maybe because I’ve never been, but the smile on Paige’s face is infectious.
This time, I’m the first to step out, and I turn, holding my hand out for Paige.
She beams, gaze on mine as she climbs out. But the moment her heels hit the ground, her attention is everywhere all at once.
But mine?
Mine is locked on her, and something tells me it’s going to stay there long after tonight.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Chase
She’s literally on the edge of her seat the entire night, her forearms resting on the banister in front of us, chin settled against her folded knuckles as she stares down at the stage with an air of awe.
Her eyes didn’t leave the production once, and I’m not sure mine left her.
I have no idea what happened on that stage tonight, but I now know every expression of hers. Her eyes crinkle when she smiles, and her mouth tips a little more to one side with her laugh. The way she pulls her lips in when she cries and the way she bites it when she’s excited or expecting something. I know because every time her teeth sank into that bottom lip of hers, the music would change, building higher and higher, or lower and lower in sync with her inhale.
Tonight, here at this place, she is in her element more than I have ever seen her before, and I find I’m happy to have been here to witness it.
I don’t realize I’m still staring until her head turns, and those big, blue eyes find mine, the happiness within them forcing air into my lungs.
I open my mouth to tell her something I shouldn’t when we’re interrupted.
“Miss Paige?”
We look toward the end of our row, only now realizing the crowds have completely cleared, and it’s just us and a few people standing in the back still here.
“Where did everyone go?” she asks the man who led us to our seats.
“I believe they headed down to the bar.”
“Oh.” Paige hastily stands, and I move with her, my hand finding her lower back to guide her to the aisle. “Sorry, we’ll get out of the way.”
“On the contrary, Miss Paige. I came to lead you backstage. Mr. Randolph has arranged for you to take a peek around, should you wish.”
“Really?” she nearly squeals, and a low laugh leaves me.
“Follow me.” He smiles, turning.
Paige bounces in her heels, reaching back and gripping my hand, tugging me along. I’m not even sure she realizes it, but I hold on regardless.
We wind down a few flights of stairs, and after pausing for a few minutes for the area to clear, the man leads us through another side door, where we wait a little while longer.
A man in a green, glittery jacket pokes his head in and gives our tour guide a thumbs-up, only to disappear just as fast.
Our guide turns and gives us a little bow. “The room has cleared, Miss Paige. Enjoy your look around, but please keep to the main stage area.”
“Of course, thank you.” She yanks me forward, practically running to the edge of the stairs that will take her onto the stage. She pauses there, looking up and over her shoulder at me. “Why am I nervous?” She laughs.
My lips curve up. “I don’t know. Why are you?”
She reaches up to shove me, only then realizing our hands are still locked together. Her cheeks pinken, and I can’t help but chuckle. Slowly, reluctantly, I release her, only to wrap my palms around her arms. I bring my lips to her ear, whispering, “Go on,” as I give her a little nudge.
She goes instantly, but I don’t follow.
I step back down and around the wall, coming out on the other side, so I’m looking up at her on the stage from the ground floor.
She looks back, frowning when she doesn’t see me, so I give a little whistle, and her head yanks my way.
Paige smiles and then she gives a little spin. One spin turns into several and my brows jump as she becomes a blur of movement. But she gets closer to the edge with each one, and I start to panic. Moving closer, I grip the stage and haul myself up, getting to my feet right as she slams into me. My arms come around her and she drops her head back with a laugh, her body arching like she’s boneless, making me panic even more.
So I tighten my grip around her and her upper body snaps up, colliding with mine.
She’s smiling, breathing heavily, looking up at me through thick pieces of her hair that have whipped us both in the face. So I gently gather all the loose curls, pushing them back over her shoulder.
“Thanks,” she says, her happiness bleeding into her soft tone.