The seats Monica and I had purchased for Post Malone were in the middle of the third tier. We would have been closer to the ceiling than the stage. The only glimpse of him we would have been catching were on the large monitors spread throughout FTX Arena.
And then there were Jenner’s seats.
Front row, kitty-corner to the center of the stage, less than twenty feet from where he was singing. There was only one view that could possibly be better, and that would be standing right next to Post.
I shivered at the thought of how much these seats cost.
There was something about concerts that Monica and I just loved. Listening to the artists, obviously, was the major part, but there was more. It was the energy in the stadium, the way our bodies automatically moved to whatever beat was playing, how it was impossible to feel anything but happiness.
Music brought us together.
And it was bringing Jenner even closer to me.
His arm never left my body; whether it was wrapped around my shoulders or waist, it was secure. His lips stayed near my cheek. His air hit my skin, over and over with each breath.
When I felt his eyes on me, I didn’t look at him. I just let him stare and take me in. I let him smell my skin. I let him feel this moment between us, getting lost, like I often did when I gazed at him.
And I tried to stay just as engaged with Monica, hearing her laugh. “I feel like his sweat is about to drip on me.”
Her arms were waving in the air, her body swaying.
I knew what she meant. I still couldn’t believe we were this close to the stage.
But even though I was watching him sing, viewing each droplet of sweat fall down his face, I could only focus on Jenner.
I was consumed by his presence.
By his attention that was burning through me.
And I couldn’t stop anticipating what it was going to feel like to say good-bye to him again. This trip wasn’t supposed to happen; it’d seemed like it had taken some convincing.
I feared what next time would be like.
How intensely I would miss him.
My heart needed to prepare for it.
I cared for Jenner. I wanted a future with him. I wanted this feeling—this pulsing in my chest—to own me all the time, not just when I was physically with him.
But is it impossible?
I turned toward him, not at all surprised that his eyes were already on me.
“Music looks gorgeous on you, Jo.”
My lids shut for just a second. “It’s not the music.”
As if he heard my thoughts, he brought his mouth to my temple, pressing his lips there, staying like that for the rest of the song.
Monica danced like there was a spotlight shining on her. The crowd held up their phones, shining their flashlights at the stage.
Jenner and I didn’t move.
We stayed snug until the end of the show, our arms linked as we walked out of the stadium.
Jenner had a driver each time he was in Miami, and he was parked in the VIP area. We headed over to the SUV, and the driver held the door open for us. Monica climbed into the backseat, and when I attempted to get in, Jenner stopped me.
“I’ve got something planned for you,” he whispered in my ear. He then stood in the doorway of the backseat and said to Monica, “The driver is going to take you home. I want you to text us when you get there, so we know you’re safe.”
“You guys aren’t coming?” she asked.
He shook his head and squeezed me. “I’ve got a little surprise for this one.”
“You’re so cute. I can’t stand it.” She slid to the end of the seat and stretched her arms across the open space to wrap them around us. “Thank you for the most incredible time. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to concert without you, Jenner. You just make the whole experience so extra.”
He laughed. “Thanks for being a hell of a third wheel.”
“You cats have fun tonight.” She snorted.
Jenner closed the door, and we watched the driver pull away.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked as we began walking.
He kissed the top of my head—a place I was learning he liked—and he led me down the sidewalk.
This was a section of the city I knew well, and I couldn’t imagine where he was taking me. We’d eaten dinner before the show, so I didn’t think it was for a meal, and even though there were plenty of bars in the area, something told me we weren’t headed for drinks either.
After a few blocks, his hand lowered to my back, and he turned us into a storefront, the awning one I didn’t recognize, nor could I recall ever getting anything delivered from this bakery.
“Have you been here?” he asked.
I read the name again and shook my head. “Never.”
He paused, holding the door handle. “I don’t do this often.”
I tilted my head, trying to read him. “Do what?”
“Eat dessert at midnight.”
I didn’t have time to ask what he meant before he opened the door. Inside, an older woman was sitting on a stool behind a long, antique-looking glass counter. A smile warmed her face the moment we walked in.
“Jenner.” She rose. “Oh, honey, it’s been ages.”
He released me to approach her, and the two of them immediately embraced.
I could tell she was someone he had known for a long time, a motherly figure just by the way her arms wrapped around him, how she patted the back of his head.
“I didn’t know you were coming into town,” she said, pulling away. “Let me get a good look at you.” She shook her head as she took in his face. “Always as handsome as ever.” Her hand went to his cheek. “What brings you to town?” Her grin widened, her eyes flitting over to me. “Never mind. I see the reason right now.” She glanced back to Jenner. “Introduce me to this lovely lady, please.”
“Gloria, this is Jo. Jo, this is Brett’s mom, Gloria.”