The fake pass worked until the third door.I only wanted a signature. Maybe a photo. Something to prove I’d been close enough to touch the people whose songs I played on repeat in a one-bedroom that smelled like burnt coffee and failure.The security guy took one look at the lanyard, snorted, and grabbed my arm.“Nice try.”He was walking me back toward the loading dock when the dressing-room door opened.Jax Reeve stood there in a black shirt still stuck to his chest from the set, hair wrecked, eyeliner smudged. Next to him was Sable Voss — red mouth, leather pants, guitar pick still tucked behind her ear like a weapon.Jax looked at my cheap pass, then at my face.“She’s fine,” he said. “She’s with us.”The security guy dropped my arm like it burned.Sable’s eyes moved over me, slow and unimpressed.“She doesn’t look like she’s with us.”Jax stepped back and tilted his head toward the room.“She is now. Come in before someone with a real badge shows up.”I should have run.I stepped
Leer más