Page 223 of Wicked Angel
“And without a band, and electricity… you really stepped up.”
“I just hope it sounded decent.”
“Johnny,” he said, with a charming, dimpled smile, “you’re better than decent. We need to talk about a new deal. You need to recordthatand get out on tour.”
“We’d be happy to negotiate, Trey.” Yash angled in. “I’m sure Johnny will have a few offers to consider.”
Trey smirked. “I’m sure he will. But my offer will be the best.”
“I appreciate it,” I told Trey, sincerely. “But I’m not really looking for a record deal tonight. I just wanted to play these songs. See how it all feels.”
Yash stared at me like I’d been abducted by aliens and deposited back on earth, possessed by some foreign life form.Feels?he mouthed at me. Granted, he’d probably never heard that word out of my mouth before.
But he wisely kept quiet.
“Well, the offer stands,” Trey said, surprised maybe, but too cool to let my response shake him.
“I hope so. I have more music to write. Maybe we can talk about a record, when I’m ready.”
“Alright, brother,” he said. “Respect. My door’s open.”
“Have a drink on me,” I told him. “I’ve gotta head out.”
I gave Yash a squeeze on the shoulder. “Make sure you clear up that bar tab,” I told him.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yup. I did what I came here to do.” I gave him a smile and turned to find people waiting to talk to me. They congratulated me on the show. Telling me how much they liked the songs. Asking if I was cutting an album. All that.
I still didn’t have answers for those questions, though.
“My publicist will let you all know,” I told them. Then I let Lamar and Ronan’s guys clear a path for me to backstage. I knew it was highly unusual for the star of the show not to stick around to schmooze after a showcase like this. But there was only one person I wanted to see right now. I leaned into Lamar as we ducked backstage. “Where’s Angeline?”
“She’s waiting for you.”
When we walked out the back exit, I found her waiting by his car, with Flynn. The rain had stopped. And Flynn had walked her outside, apparently.
She looked at me uncertainly, her eyes drifting over to Flynn for a moment. He stood back, eying me. Cool, stoic. Just part of the scenery. I knew he had to be thinking—feeling—something, though.
“Angel.” I reached for Angeline and felt Flynn drifting away. I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her against me.
She beamed at me. “Well, hello, rock star.”
“Hello, muse. Don’t tell me you were out here the whole time?”
She slapped my chest. “You didn’t see me!? I’m your number one fan! I was crying my eyes out in there!”
“I know. I saw.” I glanced back, but Flynn was gone. “You okay?”
“Yeah. He just walked me out. Asked me how I was doing.”
“And how are you doing?”
“Much better than I let on, I’m sure.” She smiled at me tentatively. “I mean, you sang some beautiful love songs about me in there. And I cried my face off. He was probably confused about what that all meant.”
I cupped her face in my hand. “Then I guess he doesn’t really know you.”
Emotion flickered over her sweet face. “No. He really doesn’t. But that’s not entirely his fault.”
