Power Couple (Nashvegas #1) - Laramie Briscoe Page 0,2
wears with the tip of my finger. “She told me she missed me first, ‘cause I wasn’t late, douchebag.”
“Late night.” His tone is apologetic. I cough because I know he’s anything but.
“C’mon, boys, I want to hear all about what’s going on with both of you and make sure you can make one of my shows in Vegas. I have one I’d really like y’all to be at.”
She puts her arms through both of ours, and I wonder just how much she really wants to hear about the crazy shit we’ve done the last eight months. Instead I answer with what I think will be the safest way to get her off the topic.
“That Vegas residency? Which show do you want us to be at?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at Rhett.
As she tells us, and we have a seat, I never think for two seconds that date on the calendar will change the rest of my damn life.
Chapter One
Bri
May
“Can you believe it?”
No, I can’t. When you're one of the biggest pop stars in the world, it's hard to get starstruck. Not to come across cocky, but it’s true. You're around the best of the best all the time, and those people become normal to you. They're your peers, friends, and to a point, co-workers. But for all of us, there are those people who we've looked up to our entire lives. They're the genesis, the pinnacle of super-stardom, and for me that person has always been Harmony Stewart.
Seeing her perform was my biggest dream as a kid. Since I was old enough to know who entertainers are and what they do. Back then my parents hadn't been able to afford to take me to a concert, and since my rise to the top, three years and counting, I haven't had a chance. But last night, my best friend Madison surprised me with tickets for a belated twenty-first birthday weekend in Vegas.
“No, I can’t.” The two of us walk out of the elevator and through the casino of the hotel housing the show. “This is like the culmination of every dream I had as a little girl.”
When we progress from the casino portion to the entertainment venue, something catches my eye. Tiny little flakes sparkle on the floor as we walk down a pink carpet. It makes me a minute to realize it’s actually glitter. Who else other than Harmony Stewart has a pink carpet made of glitter?
Maddie grabs my hand, pulling my side flush with hers. The hair at my ear flutters as she whispers. “Oh my God, to your left, isn't that her husband and son?”
Discreetly, I check out where she's zeroed in on possible Harmony family members, and damn near have a panic attack. I've seen EJ Thompson, who unlike his father, doesn't have a stage name, around at a couple of events. We've played a few festivals together, and attended a few of the same award shows, but I've never gotten the introduction I've wanted. I've had a crush on him since I was seventeen. I was at my first business meeting in New York City when we ran into each other for the first time. We have the same record company, and I tripped exiting the elevator. Something I’d done no less than three times that year. For some reason this particular elevator was my nemesis.
At the time, I’d grabbed anything that would break my fall. It happened to be EJ’s biceps, and I’d stuttered like the star-struck teenager I was. Being the nice guy he is, he reached over, asking me if I was okay.
It might be pathetic that I've probably relived that moment a million times since it happened. Each time, it goes a little different, more like how I wanted it to go. Where he gives me a smile and invites me to hang with his band mates.
Tonight though, I don’t have to imagine how anything would go, because he’s standing not far away from where I am. My eyes roam his body, taking in every inch of flesh, committing it to memory for later - or in case I never have a chance like this again. Back then he didn't have as many tattoos as he has now, or the beard he's sporting, and his muscles have developed, instead of barely being able to see the strength in his forearms, his shirt grips his biceps. More than anything I wonder if he remembers me. Probably not.