One

Jerrin Waterstone

My bright happy Sky

"Fuck this all," I muttered under my breath. Annoyed with the world, I leaned against one of the equipment carts in the shadows of the backstage area the festival people had cordoned off for my band Waterstone. Event workers and road crew scurried around like ants, as if every little detail was life or death. I just wanted to go back to the peace and quiet of my bus.

I would take off if Marley, my band's tour manager, hadn't threatened to kill me if I left before all the gear was unloaded and accounted for. Not. My. Job. But honestly, I was a little scared of her. Marley's ice-cold stare was the only thing that could send a freeze through my veins.

Label big wigs, press, crowds, swooning fans? Whatever. Marley pissed off. You'd better run.

That said, it was strange how I hadn't seen her or our production manager all day, but here I was directing people with the band's crap as if I even cared what they did with our stuff. I was the talent. I paid other people to do this crap.

Man, I was a bitch today.

Scrubbing a hand over my eyes, I tried to rub away the nasty headache that had dogged me since a few hours before my bus had pulled into the festival grounds in the wee hours of morning today. I wanted nothing more than to drag my ass back to it and bury my head under a pillow for a few more hours.

But no…

Here I was. I reminded myself that, once we got through this, the band was on break for the foreseeable future. I couldn't wait. In a couple days, on Friday, we were headliners for night one of the three-day Spring Harbor Music Festival. Afterward, I could lay low for months if I wanted to. First, this. Unlike most everyone else slated for that night, we'd brought in a lot of shit since we were the main event of the day, and we'd be playing the longest set, with the biggest light-show and pyrotechnics.

The annual festival was a big deal, with a total Woodstock vibe. People came from all over the country to experience the party atmosphere and the musical unity. But for me, it was another day, another concert in a string of hundreds, the tail-end of a year and a half tour. Exhausting. Honestly, I felt old and burnt out. I shouldn't. I was only twenty-seven. But after nearly ten straight years in the business, a lot of it on the road, I was ready to kick it all to the curb—the fame, the travel, the late nights, the groupies. God, even the music pissed me off lately.

Except Light Up My Sky. I'd written that song back when I was eighteen, and lately, it just made me sad and filled me with a longing for something outside my grasp. I'd poured my heart into the lyrics, channeled from a vivid dream I'd had about a woman who lit me up, a partner in whom I found complete happiness and fulfillment. My soul mate.

She'd never materialized, though I'd looked for her in every woman I met.

"Excuse me?"

I blinked at the unexpected, sweet female voice that sent a shock of prickles down my spine. We had women on our road crew, but none of them sounded like her. Looking up from where I'd been examining at my fingernails and thinking I needed to clip them before practice, I focused on the petite, curvy girl with long auburn hair who'd spoken. She stood just outside the cordoned-off equipment area for my group, seeming to search our surroundings before she glanced back at me. She looked sweet, and my mouth watered. I wanted to eat her up. Devour her. And I'd never, ever had a gut-kick reaction like that. Man, she was pretty, and I bet she tasted even better.

Her brows lifted at me as she tilted her head. I couldn't tell the color of her eyes, but they flickered with intelligence as she studied me. The corner of her lips twitched as if she fought a smile. Fucking perfect.

Hell, she checked all my boxes. Every. Single. .

"Excuse me," she repeated, her words less of a question this time. "I'm sorry, but you're the only person here who's not scurrying around like a hopped-up worker ant. I'm looking for my sister."

My lips curled at her mention of the same image I'd thought just moments ago. "Oh, yeah? Don't know if I can help, but who's your sister?"

"Marley Presley. She's the tour manager for Waterstone , and someone out front directed me over here. I'm her sister, Sky. Are you with Waterstone ?"

The fuck? Lightning struck me, and I straightened from the equipment trunks I'd leaned against.

Sky? She said her name was Sky?

And she obviously had no clue who I was?

How perfect was this? Destined, even, if I believed in that shit.

"Yeah," I breathed. "I'm with Waterstone ." Striding toward her, I reached my hand over the rope. I hoped she'd take it to shake. And never let go. Instantly, nothing seemed more important than touching her. "I'm Jerrin."

"Jerrin," she repeated, shaking my hand. "Sky. Like I said."

Still no recognition. I went by J. Waterstone, and most people thought my name was Jay. Few realized the J was an initial, despite how I autographed my name. And frankly, I looked different with my hair scraped back into a proverbial man bun and not wearing heavy eyeliner and stage makeup. Plus the worn jeans and basic black tee I had on didn't exactly scream star . Hell, half the time, some of the newer road crew didn't recognize me.

"Hello, my bright Sky ," I said, pulling a quote from my song but not lingering there. The tingle going up my arm when we touched just about stole my breath and all my mental resources. "I…um…haven't seen Marley today. In fact, I was just bitching about it—in my head, anyway. I don't think she's here, yet."

Sky grimaced. "Well, darn it. She Fedexed me a pass but didn't say when she'd be in. I guess I'll have to come back."

"No!" I exclaimed before I could stop myself. She startled, taking a step back and almost running into a pair of crew, who were rolling past the tall chest filled with my guitars. Leaping over the rope, I pulled her out of the way.

I couldn't let her walk away now that I'd seen her. How many years had I waited for her to show up?

None, actually. I'd hoped but not waited. Because fate and visions and déjà vu and destiny and all that gobbledygook was bullshit. But I still wasn't letting her go.

"I meant… I'm done here. Can I take you to lunch?" I looked at her hopefully. "Or maybe, you can show me around town. I've been looking for someone to introduce me to the best of Spring Harbor. I always like to get an insider view of the places we travel."

My God, that sounded like some pick-up line and not even a good one. It was a total lie, too, but I'd say just about anything to keep her from walking away. Hell, I'd fake a medical emergency if I had to.

She looked around. "Don't you have to work?"

I shook my head. "Nah. Just had to supervise this crap getting put here." Half true. "Let me report in, then you can show me the town."

I flashed her my winning smile that almost always got me what I wanted—except from Marley. I hoped Sky wasn't like her sister in that regard. I genuinely thought Marley disdained me in all ways other than for her paycheck.

Pulling out my phone, I shot off a text to my brother, the other Waterstone in the band.

Jerrin: Get your ass over to our equipment setup. I got called away.

Stone: To what?

Jerrin: Destiny…

Stone: WHAT????

Jerrin: Just do it. I owe you.

Ignoring the buzz of his reply, I shoved away my cell and took Sky's hand.

"Lead the way, beautiful."

"Did I say yes?" she asked, but I noticed she didn't pull away.

"You didn't say no."

And I wouldn't take no for an answer, anyway. Fate had finally delivered, and I wasn't fucking it up.