CHAPTER THREE
GRIFFIN

Tonight, my career dreams came true. The notorious Tulsa Theater. Check. Awesome crowd. Check. Voice on point? Not so much, because I was too distracted by the brunette in the front row. Luckily, the awesome crowd didn’t seem to care. Now I’m sitting here signing my name on branded merch looking for a single face—her face—in the crowd.

“Dude…” Adair jabs me in the side with his elbow. “Snap out of it.” 

“What?” I grab the t-shirt from his hand and scribble my name on it before sliding it back over to the fan making goo-goo eyes at me. Not a chance, sweetheart. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Who?”

I didn’t mean to say that out loud. “Never mind.”

“Don’t give me that.” He smiles and winks at the woman standing in front of him as he signs his name on her …

Christ. I cringe as she wiggles in my direction and pulls her shirt down a little further in front. “Sorry. That’s not my style. I’ll be happy to sign your shirt or something else, but I don’t sign skin.”

She snarls and scoffs as she walks off in a diva huff.

Whatever.

I’m supposed to be asking their name and personalizing each signature. I’m not doing that because I’m too distracted thinking about her. I’m also supposed to sign whatever they put in front of me. That isn’t going to happen either.

“Do you remember that thing Dad used to say to Mom all the time?”

His eyebrows furl together. “What thing?”

“Whatever our souls are made of…”

He leans back in his chair and throws his hands behind his head as he lets out a sigh. “I remember… Of all the days for you to bring that shit up.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but I heard his voice when I saw her. It was like being home again.”

“Whatever. Your turn to get names, dude.” Adair hands me the next souvenir for my attention. He swallows hard, clearly trying to hide the onslaught of emotions the memory brought up.

I hate this feeling so much, but in all these years it’s never changed. It hasn’t gotten easier. That’s just a lie they tell you to help you feel like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve got news for you, there is no light, or there wasn’t until tonight. “Even if I managed to ask their names, I wouldn’t hear their response.”

Adair shakes his head and laughs under his breath. “Who has you all twisted up, man? I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I…” I sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t know her name.”

His laugh echoes through the hall. 

“Thanks, bro. You’re not exactly in a position to make fun of my love life you know.” I nod toward the opposite corner of the stage where Carly is giggling and clearly flirting with Ridge.

He pats me on the back and smiles. Not one of those supportive brotherly type smiles. It’s more like a Cheshire cat type of smile. This is going to be bad. “Maybe if you’d ask for their names then I could spend more time focusing on my own shit instead of yours.”

“You handling your own shit is exactly why she’s not talking to you right now.” 

“Can we not talk about me?” He tucks his head down and steals a glance at Carly out of the corner of his eye. He tried to hide it, but I caught it. “Where did you meet her?” he asks.

“I didn’t technically meet her,” I admit.

“What?” His eyebrows pinch together causing the barbell over his right eye to stick out more than normal. I really want to pull it right now. It’d get him off my ass for a second, at least. “Online?”

“No.” I can’t tell him. He’ll never let me live it down.

He stops signing and turns toward me. His eyes are boring a hole straight through me. I focus on what I’m doing and keep my head down. Out of sight, out of min—

“It’s a fan isn’t it?”

“No.” So much for out of sight, out of mind. “At least, I don’t think she’s a fan. She missed half the words.”

“Even better.” He throws his head back and cackles.

I really want to pull his dreads and watch him fall backwards on the concrete floor right now, but there are a lot of people watching. Just my luck.

“Tell me.”

I sigh. What do I have to lose? My pride? I lost that the second I missed my mark on stage tonight. “The brunette who was in the front of the pit.”

“Was she screaming your name too?” he says through a half-cackle half-snort.

“Truthfully, I have no idea what she was saying. I couldn’t hear her over you and Nash, thank you very much. But I’m certain I saw her mouth say Griffin.”

“Maybe it was wishful thinking,” he says through a full-blown snort this time.

He’s having entirely too much fun with this. Still, he must’ve picked up on the fact that I am totally distracted again because he’s still asking for their names and handling the personalization, which seems to be just fine with the crowd. The ladies love him for his attitude, the dark eyeliner and nails help. The whole brooding musician thing. It’s a win/win for me. He gets to soak up most of the attention and all I have to do is sit here and pretend I’m paying attention when I’m really just scanning the crowd for her smoky eyes and bright pink tank top.

No sign of her, yet.

Maybe she’s back inside waiting for the encore.

Gah. Did I really just think that she would be sitting and waiting for a chance to hear an encore from me… I mean us… I mean… Sigh.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you can tell one from the next when we’re up there.”

“I can’t… or couldn’t, until tonight”

“She stood out, huh?” he fights the laughter back, but I still hear it.

“Yes, yes she did.” The rips in her jeans went all the way up her thighs, and that adorable neon yellow thing holding her hair up out of her face. I don’t even know what it’s called, but it was perfect. “She was perfect.” That bright pink tank top hugged her in all the right places. Those bright yellow heels made her back curve in just the right way. Those were definitely factors, but they’re not why I can’t get her out of my head. Her dark eyes and that smile.

That’s it.

Her smile had me hooked from the second I ran on stage. It’s a good thing Ridge didn’t plan any pyro for tonight, or I might be sitting in an emergency room right now. I’m not even entirely sure I sang the right lyrics to the first couple of songs. It was more a series of barely audible grunts, caveman style. Nash turned his mic up to help with the background vocals. I’m grateful the crowd didn’t seem to notice, because all I could think about was trying to figure out a way to find out who she is.

I still have nothing.

So, I’m sitting here like a lost, lonely little puppy just hoping to catch another glimpse.

What if she leaves and doesn’t come through the line?

I have a clear view of both Exit doors from here and I’m watching those two doors like a pit-bull watches the gate at a junkyard.

Maybe I am a lost, lonely little puppy.

No.

I am a pit-bull puppy.

And just like that pit-bull, I will jump this table and bulldoze whoever gets in the way if I have to. “She’s not getting out of that door before I find out what her name is.”

“Good luck with that.” Adair passes me a shirt. A shirt without a name on it.

“Ugh!” I shove him on the shoulder. “What the hell, man?

“What?” He shrugs without looking up from the autograph he’s signing. “I thought you might want to take that one.” He slides a stock band image print to me. “This one’s ready for you too.”

Even though they’re all really great at covering for me, they still like to bust my balls whenever possible, especially Adair. Brotherly love and all that.

The woman in front of me with pink ombre hair rattles off her name and I don’t hear anything.

Not.

A.

Peep.

Whatever.

I scribble a music note and some fancy schmancy swirly thing around my signature and send her on her way. “Dude,” I growl at Adair. “The crowd is really backing up.”

“Good job, Captain Obvious.” The busty blonde in front of him giggles and makes sure to give her boobs a good squeeze.

So shallow.

For Christ’s sake He’s giving the signal to the guards, so they’ll ask her to wait backstage, and Carly saw it. I nudge him in the ribs and nod in her direction thinking that might shake him back to reality. “See that look? You might want to lock up all sharp objects for the rest of the tour.”

“Two can play her game.” He shrugs.

“Dude! This is exactly your problem.”

“My problem?” he scoffs. “I’m sorry, maybe I should fall for a fan like you.”

“Shut up.” I shove him in the shoulder making him wobble on the lame stool he’s perched on. “Carly is in love with you.”

“That was her first mistake,” he snorts and ducks his head down to avoid eye contact. “She deserves better than me.”

“You do realize you’re an idiot sometimes…?”

“Yes.” He nods and signs another stock photo.

I mean, I get it. He’s not ready to settle down and still wants to party while he can, but one-night stands are not what I want out of my life. He cannot get distracted right now. “I need your head in the game here. My plan was to sign for five minutes and then for you guys to jump back on stage, while I weave through the crowd until I get to seat 201-A. “

He cocks an eyebrow and gives me a sideways glance. “I thought your Rockstar Cinderella was in the pit.”

“Technically, she was standing right underneath 201-A.” I say through gritted teeth.

“How do you know that?” He asks, trying to stifle a laugh.

“I pulled up the theater’s seating chart on my phone.” I sigh and throw my hands behind my head. “Don’t judge me.”

He smiles and nods to the next in line, a bubbly woman with bright red hair. “And what were you going to do?” He asks me without ever looking up from the t-shirt he’s signing. “Start singing right there at 201-A? Pull her out of the pit?” He crosses his hands over his heart and pretends to swoon. “Were you planning on pulling her right over the railing?”

Yep. He’s really pissing me off.

“Maybe you’ll even drop down on your knee right there!”

Maybe I will. “Kiss my a—” I stop short as the bubbly redhead moves to the side and the next in line steps up to the table.

It’s her.

Miss Black-ripped-jeans.

My Rockstar Cinderella. 

“Hi.” It’s slurred and I stammer, but it’s all I can get out.

Adair shifts his focus between my blank dumbass expression and her beautiful face. “Is that her?” At least he leaned in and whispered instead of making me feel like a total jackass.

I’m so screwed. 

I refuse to be my own worst enemy like my brothers.

“Uh, I mean… What’s your name, beautiful?” Shit. When did I become the creepy dude in the corner?

“Excuse me?” She says as her cheeks turned as red as the shirt I’m wearing.

I must’ve sounded like a total sleazeball. “What’s your name?” I smile and try to reduce my creep factor by at least half a point. “For the autograph.”

“Oh, right.” She sighs and laughs, albeit nervously. “London.”

London.

Her name is London.

She keeps glancing to the side. I can’t help but wonder if she’s as confused as I am by my Neanderthal ways.

“That’s a beautiful name.” I am so lame.

“Thank you.” She looks at her phone and smiles.

A text from her boyfriend? 

If I add my phone number to this autograph, would that be too much? It’d probably be too much.

“Thank you,” she says as I slide the t-shirt back across the table. 

I make sure to brush her hand with mine, desperate for that connection even if it’s only momentary. When her skin connects with mine, a spark jolts straight through me. Did she feel that? My heart is currently trying to jump out of my chest and into her hands, which would no doubt be absolutely traumatizing for her. Instead of taking my bloody beating heart, she looks up at me through those thick eyelashes of hers and flashes me a smile that leaves me completely defenseless. 

“Thank you,” she says, turning to follow her friend out of the meet-and-greet area.

Damn, that smile.