Midnight Stage Read Online Sheridan Anne

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
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Devastation flashes in his dark eyes, but I see no hint of hesitation. He’s made up his mind. He’s leaving me here in this bullshit town, leaving me at the mercy of a hateful drunk. For just a moment, I consider telling them how much Dad scares me when they aren’t around, but if they knew . . . If they heard the way he talks to me, they’d never get on that plane. They’d never accept this tour, and they’d never get the things they’ve worked all these years to achieve.

“It won’t be that long,” he promises me. “A year, maybe. Eighteen months. Then I’ll be home.”

I exhale, my every emotion overwhelming me in that one breath, and I pull out of his arms, shrugging him off when he reaches for me again, not knowing a single word to say.

And with that, I turn and run out of the diner as the agonizing sobs tear from the back of my throat.

23

Raleigh

Night after night, city after city, the tension worsens.

It’s been two weeks since being with Ezra in the pool, and when I say that there hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t thought about it, I’m not exaggerating. Even in my dreams, I replay it over and over again. I’ve been wondering what it’d be like to be physical with him since I was fifteen years old, and it was just as incredible as I always imagined.

I had no idea it could be like that. The emotion, the pleasure, the connection . . . holy shit. I need to do it again. I need to feel him inside me. I need to feel the way he claimed me, and I don’t ever want it to stop. It was such a rush. In terms of experience, I can’t exactly claim to be an expert. Apart from what happened back in Michigan, my experience with sex is non-existent.

The moment Ezra pulled away from me and left me in that pool, I’ve never felt emptier. How can a life without him be worth living? Hell, I don’t even know how I’m going to make it through the rest of this tour. Seeing him every day and not being able to touch him or fall into his arms and tell him how much I’ve loved him over the years is killing me, and if it weren’t for my need to succeed at this job and prove myself to Lenny, I surely would have crumbled already.

I see it in Ezra’s eyes every time he looks my way. This is killing him just as much as it’s killing me, but I refuse to go running back to him, not while I’m holding onto so much anger and resentment. I don’t want to be with him that way, and deep down, I think he understands.

So for now, I continue to watch him from the sidelines.

Night after night, as Demon’s Curse performs for sold-out stadiums, I stand at the side of the stage, watching as the only man I’ve ever wanted pours his heart out in lyrics that I was too foolish and broken to hear.

Night one in Paris, he had turned to me and sung about one day giving me the love he always thought I deserved. And every night since, he’s done the same, picking a song, turning to me, and making sure I truly hear him.

Paris, night two, he turned to me and sang about the way his heart raced the first time he ever met me, and that still to this day, it was the greatest moment of his life. And I cried.

Italy, night one, he turned to me and sang about the anger he felt when he realized he’d allowed me to slip away, and how he’s never felt whole since. And my heart shattered.

Night two in Italy, he serenaded me with lyrics about how he would look up into the stars and picture wherever I was in the world, staring at the same dark sky. And the loneliness overwhelmed me.

And now tonight, as he waves his hands back and forth in sync with fifty thousand other souls, his gaze locks on mine, and I listen to the whole stadium sing about how he will love me unconditionally until his final breath. And with that, I feel the anger and resentment finally begin to fade into a distant hum.

The moment is too much, and as I hold his dark stare, my knees give out. I crumble to the ground as tears stream down my face, my heart pulling me in a million different directions, but there’s only one direction that feels like home.

I can’t take my eyes off him as he captivates the audience, his words speaking right to my soul, and when he makes his way toward me, my heart races for a whole new reason. He doesn’t skip a beat or miss a single lyric as he strides across the massive stage, past Rock and Dylan, and right into the wings of the stage where I remain a crumpled mess out of sight from the rowdy crowd.


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