Shelby closes her set with White Knight. For some reason, tonight, those first lines stir up more feelings than usual.
“You all right?” Jiggy nudges my shoulder.
“Proud of her. Happy she closed with this song. That’s all.”
His head swivels between the stage and me a few times but he thankfully keeps his opinions to himself.
“Thank you, Nashville!” Shelby shouts and waves to the crowd.
The lights wink out.
The crowd roars their approval of her performance.
People continue screaming and chanting her name as she runs off the stage.
“Logan!” she squeals, slamming into my body. I lift her up in my arms, giving her a quick spin. Breathless, laughing, sweaty and smiling, she peppers my face with kisses.
“So proud of you, chickadee,” I murmur between kisses. “You were fantastic.” Fuck if I’m not running out of words to adequately describe how amazing she is every night.
“Thank you,” she whispers against my lips. “Thank you so much.”
Laughing, she uncurls one arm from around my neck and reaches for Jigsaw, drawing him into our embrace.
“Thank you too, Jiggy.” She plants a big kiss on his cheek.
Startled, or freaked out, he freezes for a second. His helpless eyes meet mine. I nod and he relaxes.
“Anytime, songbird.” He pats her on the back.
I release her and she runs over to hug Trent. The two of them dance around in a circle together. Even her bass player and drummer join in on the celebration, which is nice since they’ve been aloof most of the tour.
Greg pulls the four of them into a huddle. After a few words, Kenny and Abram disappear down the hallway. Greg hugs Shelby tight, saying something to her I can’t overhear.
“You sure we can’t break at least one finger?” Jiggy asks me.
“Nah. Greg’s all right.” The moment Greg’s having with Shelby seems more fatherly than anything.
“I guess he’s kinda grown on me,” Jiggy agrees.
“Will you check on Ice?” I ask. “Meet us in Shelby’s dressing room. Unless they’re staying out front.”
“Sure.” He slaps my shoulder and heads toward the door that leads to the arena.
Careful to stay out of the way of the guys setting up Thundersmoke’s set, I walk up behind Shelby.
Greg nods at me and holds out his hand. “Thank you for everything, Logan.”
“You’re welcome.” I shake his hand, not sure what else to say.
I curl my arm around Shelby’s shoulders and she leans into me. Together, we head to her dressing room. I don’t bother closing the door behind us, enough people will be in and out that there’s no point.
Shelby can’t stop wringing her hands and marching around the room.
“You all right?” I ask, dropping onto the couch. Maybe if I settle down it’ll help her relax.
“I don’t know,” she says, shaking her arms again. “I’m so…I want to do a million things but I also kinda want to lay on the floor and take a nap.”
“It’s the adrenaline.” I hold out my hand. “Come here.”
She rushes over, crashing into my legs. “Was I okay? I flubbed the intro to Big Lies. So stupid. Not like I’ve done it a million times or anything—”
“Shhh.” I place my finger against her lips. “I didn’t notice any mistakes.”
She opens her mouth but I press my finger against her lips harder and shake my head. “Let me finish.”
I wait until she nods.
“I don’t know if it was the excitement from the last night or what, but I think this was your best show yet. You were radiant on that stage.” I hold out my hand, palm up. “You had them enraptured. Did you hear the way they were screaming for you after the lights went out?”
She glances down at my hand and I remove my finger from her lips.
“Everything’s so bright and loud. I was focused on getting to you, I couldn’t hear what anyone was saying.”
Jesus, this woman slays me. Every damn time. “Well, they loved you.”
She blows out a long breath.
I pull her into my lap, smoothing her dress over her legs. “Do you want to change before Dawson’s encore?”
“I should, huh?” She glances at her dress, tracing her fingers over one of the embroidered blue birds. “Should I go fancier or casual?”
“Go all out, baby. Last show.”
As I expected, people trickle into the dressing room. More than usual. Her band. Some of Dawson’s roadies. Everyone seems to have the same blend of nervous energy and exhaustion coursing through them that’s plaguing Shelby.
Jiggy returns, casting a murderous glare at all the extra people, before sitting next to me. “They’re staying out front.”
“Is Anya having a good time?” Shelby asks him.
“I think so.” He shrugs. “She wanted me to let you know that you were awesome.”
“Aww.” Shelby grins and rests her head on my shoulder.
A steady thumping rattles the walls.
“Thundersmoke must be starting,” Shelby says.
Trent bursts into the room, frantic and wild-eyed. “Shelby.” He speeds over to us, knocking into Kenny.