Page 4 of Just Wait

“Yep.”

“All right. Just make sure you keep your badge on you in case anyone gives you trouble.” He pecks a final kiss on my temple and jogs off to join his bandmates, who are all heading out.

Is it wrong that I wish he would have offered to keep me company?

Maybe suggested that he could help by playing while I handled another instrument?

I’m sure I’m overreacting, but it does get under my skin a little, and it’s stupid.

I’ve never been afraid to be by myself. With Theo’s career taking off, I’m going to need to get comfortable doing my own thing.

It’s already bad enough that I feel like the naggy girlfriend who came on tour to make sure her boyfriend couldn’t cheat on her.

Shoving out of my chair, I take off for the stage. This music isn’t going to write itself. I’ve thought a lot about what my future will look like once Theo meets his omega.

If I’m lucky, maybe I can impress the record label with my songwriting and composition skills. If not, at least I’ll have once-in-a-lifetime memories to keep me company at night when I go back to my normal life.

I’m in the zone, humming the verses that I haven’t mapped out yet, when two massive security guys appear in front of the stage.

They’re frowning, and it feels like I’ve done something wrong, even though I know I haven’t.

“You need to put the guitar on the stand and come down here,” the man on the right says.

My mouth falls.

If they weren’t wearing the venue security polos, I’d be worried.

“This is my boyfriend’s guitar.” I let the instrument fall to hang from the strap around my neck and lift my backstage pass. “Theo from Tangled Desires is my boyfriend. I’m working on something for him.”

My face twists into a grimace.

Shit.

Hopefully they don’t communicate with the label directly.

Not that anyone would automatically assume that I’m saying I write their songs.

“That’s fine, but you need to clear out,” the guy on the left says. “Now. Liminal is waiting for the space.”

Horror rips through my chest.

Did I lose track of time?

Holy shit.

Ripping off Theo’s guitar, I put it on the stand, scramble down the stairs, and grab my things.

Only…

I didn’t run into their time at all.

“Come along,” one of the men says from behind me. “The techs are waiting to swap out the instruments. You have to go.”

Jesus.

It isn’t like I’m fighting them.

Their tone is unnecessary.