46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Mason

To say that I was used to being backstage at a concert would be a dramatic understatement. Growing up, I spent more time on tour with my dad than I did in my own home, and as an adult, I had given over a hundred performances of my own. But, as Lucian dragged me behind him, this all-too-familiar experience was once again thrilling. He had described the place he played at as a ‘ small bar ’, but that didn’t do it justice. The front half was a bar, but the back, though small, rivaled the setup of larger venues.

The air was thick with excitement and none of the sweat I’d come to expect with performances… not yet, at least. Lucian had one hand around mine and the other on his guitar case as he led me through a maze of cables, instruments, and the occasional other musician. I kept my head down, not wanting to risk potentially stealing any of Lucian’s limelight.

Distant chatter hummed in my ears as we successfully navigated the backstage chaos to find a makeshift dressing room. Lucian pushed through the door, revealing a space filled with flickering lights and ratty furniture. Behind us, the saloon door flapped in and out several times before settling into a closed position.

“I know this probably isn’t what Mason-fucking—” He interrupted himself as I raised a brow. “Sorry, force of habit.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, watching him closely.

“This probably isn’t the setup that you’re used to,” he amended, putting his guitar down on a couch with more holes than fabric. “But try to make yourself comfortable… we’ll be back here a lot.”

“What? I’m not allowed to watch the show?” I pointed to the door as I feigned disappointment.

The energy of the crowd was contagious, even from back here. I had absolutely zero desire to be part of that , but I wanted to see Lucian perform…. and also to rile him up a little.

He placed a hand on my stomach. “Do you think it’s a good idea for you to go pack yourself into a crowd of five-hundred-ish people?”

“Aw, is someone worried about me?”

A glow dusted his cheeks as he looked away.

“Absolutely not , I—I’m worried about the baby. That’s all.” Lucian’s hand trailed up my body, tracing curves into the stretchy black material of my dress before settling on my breast. “Besides, with the way you’re dressed, you’d have more decency if you were naked.”

On one of our many excursions to find maternity clothes, a little black dress caught Sophia’s eye, and she was adamant it would come in handy. Like always, she was right.

“Is that an invitation?” I teased.

He looked around, his gaze shifting from the door to me. I took pride in the way Lucian studied the dark material clinging to me like a second skin. If his gaze alone could have undressed me, I would have been as naked as the day I was born.

He swallowed hard, and I looked down to see his cock straining against his jeans. I bit my lip as I looked up again.

“No. Not yet, at least.” Lucian pulled away and looked around the room before grabbing a black hoodie off the chair closest to the mirror. “Arms up.”

“Excuse me?”

Before I could fully comprehend what he was asking, Lucian was tugging the thick material over my head. The familiar scent of his cologne was hidden under the stench of dust and sweat. Once my face was uncovered, Lucian pulled my hair out of the collar, letting it fall slowly down my back.

“It’s so weird seeing you with long hair,” he mumbled, completely ignoring the fact that he just dressed me against my will.

I looked down at the nearly hip-length strands, picking up a few to run over the tips of my fingers as I thought. My dad always said I looked better with it long—something about it helping me look thinner. If I cut my hair, my dad would freak the fuck out, and I’d hate to disappoint him.

I wasn’t ignorant to how toxic our relationship was, but he was still my dad. I hoped the second he saw my daughter, he’d hold her, and his heart would heal from whatever poison coursed through his veins. People only hurt others when they’re hurting themselves, and I wanted to save him from that turmoil.

That’s why I was okay with him hurting me for so long.

Maybe after everyone went to sleep tonight, I’d call him again; that way, I could tell him exactly where I was, and we could expedite our reunion. Satisfied with my secret plan, I cleared the thought of James Albright from my mind and looked back at Lucian.

“It’s weird seeing my hair long, but not this?” I placed a hand on my stomach.

Lucian smiled, covering my hand with his own. I silently fell in love with the way his tattooed fingers looked when intertwined with mine.

“Nope. This is how our life was meant to be.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, causing my heart to soar to impossible altitudes.

“I’m going to go find the rest of the band and run over the set list for tonight—if you have to go to the bathroom, it’s near the front of the bar.”

My brow furrowed. “What, no private bathrooms?”

He let out an easy laugh as he shook his head. “Not in a shithole like this. Until now, I was the most famous person to grace these walls.”

Lucian popped in and out of the dressing room for the next hour or so, mostly to make sure I was still there, I think. During his brief visits, he explained a little more about the place I was in. Apparently, the bar owner was the drummer, and his friend was the bassist. They hated the idea of playing with any one band for too long, so they created this space where anyone with a guitar or a voice was encouraged to join. On Fridays, they typically had two performers and would close the night out with Lucian. He blushed when I told him that it meant he was the headliner.

Halfway through the second opening act, Lucian and I walked around to find a suitable spot for me to watch him from the side. I got a couple of long looks from the techies and the first act, but no one stopped me, which was nice.

Tonight, I wasn’t the Mason Albright who sold out tours. Instead, I was Mason Albright, girlfriend of an up-and-coming rock star. One well-taken video uploaded to my social media, and people would go crazy for Lucian’s music.

The world went dark as the second artist rushed off the stage, guitar in hand.

“It’s your time to shine.” I smiled at Lucian, hoping he could see the glint of my teeth despite the perfect blackness surrounding us.

“It is, and this whole show is for you, Kitten.” He leaned in, and I assumed he just wanted to kiss my forehead again. Instead, his lips met mine, and an electric current rippled through my body.

His breathing went shallow, and heat radiated off his face. He gasped when he pulled away, but didn’t formally recognize what had just happened. Maybe it was better that way.

Still, my lips tingled with the memory of his.

The lights clicked as they flashed on, bathing the wooden stage in tones of blue and white.

“What the fuck is up, Hartwood?” Lucian’s voice boomed into the microphone as he fumbled with the jack, trying to plug in his guitar.

My smile widened, and I wondered if he had to stop himself from laughing while saying something that ridiculous. I tucked my hands into the solo pocket of his hoodie, rooting myself to my spot. I didn’t want to miss a single moment of the Lucian Castillo experience.

His set started with a few covers of some of the horniest songs I had ever heard. Lucian didn’t hesitate while performing them, relishing in the attention of the crowd. He knew he was sexy—no reason to hide behind a fa?ade of modesty.

I was afraid to cheer between songs; I had no idea what the microphones would pick up and what they wouldn’t. Instead, I basked in the energy of the crowd as they screamed his name. After what felt like the world’s shortest eternity, Lucian held his hands to the sky and bowed, and I realized I had been so spellbound that I forgot to take a video. My pulse raced as I grabbed my phone in hopes of taking a photo. Maybe that would be enough to kick-start his career.

“If this is your first show, please allow me to introduce myself.” His voice rumbled through the microphone—nearly an hour of performing had left Lucian sweaty and panting. “My name is Lucian Castillo—”

A chorus of cheers interrupted him, and I started recording anyway. Even though he was done singing, this would be the best way to showcase Lucian’s massive personality.

“—And I’m a local musician.” More cheers, and Lucian waited patiently to continue. “Let’s hear it for Kevin and Dave! Without their willingness to share their stage, this show would not have been possible.”

The crowd wasn’t nearly as excited about the other two members of the ensemble. I almost laughed at that, but it would have been rude.

“And although they are vehemently against encores—”

Boo s filled the room, and the two much older men waved them off before exiting to opposite sides of the stage.

“—They have graciously agreed to let me perform an original song.”

Fuck. Yes.

I tapped the red button in the center of my screen twice—once to end the last recording and once to start this new one. It didn’t matter what Lucian sang; I knew it would be amazing.

Lucian pulled a stool from the side of the stage and leaned against it while he adjusted the settings of his guitar. The sound quickly morphed from traditional rock-and-roll to soft and melodic, almost like an acoustic guitar.

“This song doesn’t have a name yet,” he explained, softly strumming the strings. “I have someone very important to me backstage, and I was hoping she’d do me the honor of naming it… after all, she wrote half of it.”

A mix of emotions threatened to overwhelm me as I realized I had left my lyrics in his room. Love, because Lucian just acknowledged to hundreds of people that I was important to him. Anger, because that draft was never meant for his eyes, even if I had accidentally left it in his notebook. And finally, fear; none of the songs I had ever written lived to see the light of day. What if everyone hated it?

The latter kept me completely paralyzed as I watched Lucian with wide eyes.

“In seven years, my cells become a form you’ve never touched.

I wrapped that thought around myself; I used it as a crutch.

My body left yours long ago, but time’s a funny thing,

Each passing day, you’re far away, but the echoes of your love still ring.”

Lucian’s voice was so velvety smooth that goosebumps erupted up my arms. Despite how objectively awful my lyrics were, the crowd became a sea of slowly waving phone screens and lighters. A lump formed in my throat as Lucian continued:

“I never deserved you,

But someday I’ll learn to,

Match our heartbeats metronomically,

Take my soul, love me atomically.”

My bottom lip quivered.

“That shit’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Lucian called to the still-silent crowd. “I found that in a notebook, along with the rest of a song that was full of sadness and self-hatred. So, instead of dignifying that garbage, I wrote a response.”

I should have been angry. Lucian just called my song garbage . But I was so eager to hear his reaction that I barely processed what he said.

“It’s been six years, I’ve been through hell, my wounds have healed with time.

Then you come crashing back and oh, the bells of love still chime.

I’m angry, shocked, and overwhelmed, but most of all, I’m scared.

I’ve built a life without you, now you’ve caught me unprepared.”

My hands started to shake, and my bottom lip quivered. I never even considered that Lucian might have been pushing me away out of fear, not anger.

“I thought I could hate you,

That’s one thing I can’t do.

Sort my feelings taxonomically,

Now you’re home, we’re bound atomically.”

His words hung in the air, leaving me completely vulnerable as his raw emotion overwhelmed me. I had to stop the recording before he finished; otherwise, I would’ve ruined the video with my blubbering. Eventually, the beautiful guitar melody faded and was overtaken by furious cheers from the crowd. Lucian took an exaggerated bow and said his goodbyes.

The second he was off the stage, I ran into his arms, knocking the wind out of his chest. He staggered back, one hand resting on the back of my head as he steadied us. Sweat from his shirt soaked into my skin, but I didn’t mind.

“Why are you crying?” A sweet, surprised laugh danced through his words.

I hugged him tighter, doing my best to pull him as close as possible. After a full minute of me sniveling into his chest, Lucian pulled back slightly, cupping my chin as he stared down at me. Tears blurred the world around us, and I tried to calm myself with shaky breaths.

His expression softened as he swept away a stray tear with the side of his thumb.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded, completely unable to express even a drop in the ocean of feelings I held.

“I want to go home with you.” My words were more of a whimper than a plea.

“Where else would you go?” He smirked and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Let me pack up, and we’ll hit the road.”

I nodded and cleared my throat before extracting myself from his grip to wipe my eyes.

“I think I’m going to go wash my face.”

Lucian gave me a surprisingly sympathetic smile. “Of course. Bathroom’s that way, near the front door.”

The women’s restroom tended to be a hellscape after most concerts, which left me apprehensive about venturing to the front. Luckily, this bathroom was a ghost town; the lights were dim, and the walls were dark.

I splashed cool water on my face before grabbing a paper towel. The texture felt like sandpaper on my cheek as I wiped away the remaining scraps of makeup that hadn’t been stolen by my tears. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. There was no reason for me to cry. Tonight had been perfect. Fuck, last night had been perfect. Literally, everything was perfect, but the fucked-up part of my mind wouldn’t let me have that. A dark, icy feeling embedded itself in the pit of my stomach.

As I stared at myself in the dirty mirror, the door cracked open. A gaggle of girls poured in, bringing with them the overwhelming scent of cheap perfume and vodka. Instantly, one of them looked in my direction.

“Oh, my god,” she slurred as she staggered toward me, one of her friends holding onto her elbow. Her hand met my cheek, and I stiffened.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Mason Albright?”

A laugh escaped my chest. That was nowhere near what I was expecting, but it was something I could live with.

“Sorry, I don’t know who that is.” I forced a sweet smile, one that hid my teeth.

“You don’t know who Mason Albright is?” another girl gasped, reaching for her phone.

I thought for sure she’d pull up a music video or a photo of mine. Instead, she just typed my name into the search bar and held it up to my face. My gaze bounced around the screen before settling on the news headlines, and that’s when my heart stopped.

‘ Rockstar father of Mason Albright in critical condition after car accident ’

My whole body shook, and I felt sick as I stared at the screen. The world around me faded to static as blood whooshed to my ears. Instantly, I tapped on the screen, silently begging for this to be some sort of elaborate hoax.

But it wasn’t.

My knees knocked together, and I swore that I was going to collapse in the restroom. I needed to not feel like this. Not here. Not right now. I needed a distraction; I needed him.

Frantically, I headed back towards Lucian’s dressing room, pushing through a small sea of people, keeping my head down as I did. I didn’t want to be recognized, not again. When I finally made it back to the dressing room, Lucian had just finished packing up his guitar.

He looked up, and something in me broke. For years, I had been an expert at denying tears, but now they came like a tsunami, destroying any chance I had at appearing calm. Alarm colored his dark features as he rushed over to me, grabbing me by the shoulders to keep me from collapsing to the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Panic infested his words as a hand dropped to my stomach. Rosie kicked, but even the reminder of my daughter wasn’t enough to ground me.

“Th-this girl—in the bathroom, she s-saw me and looked me up, and—m-my dad—”

“I know.”

His voice was calm, his words cruel. Part of me hoped that Lucian would laugh and tell me it was made up. Instead, he had shattered what remained of my heart.

I was stupid to think I could ever deserve a happily ever after.