Page 30 of The Beat Match

Spending money on this taxi-car-chaser wasn’t in her budget, but pinning Falcon down took precedence. When she was a serious DJ, she’d save for her future.

The fans chatted animatedly, and more people tore to the rear exit, wanting a glimpse of their mysterious idol. When the back door cracked open, everyone shouted for Falcon, but a massive man pushed outside. Thick neck. Boulders for shoulders. Bouncers were a different breed of human. He towered over the groupies and tried to usher them away. A black sedan with tinted windows pulled up on schedule, the whole scene something from a reality show, paparazzi lying in wait for an A-list celebrity.

It was tough to see through the gathering crowd, but people suddenly jumped and waved, their shouts carrying to her car.

I love you, Falcon.

Amazing set, man.

Sign my boobs!

Annie gave the crowd a death stare as the last shout registered. She’d like to sign something special on that woman’s boobs. Hands off. He’s mine. Two ridiculous thoughts, since the guy had stood her up and her sexual energy had been focused on a different male as of late. Still, there was no forgetting that kiss, how his raw passion had lit her up.

She glimpsed Falcon’s masked face and wide shoulders before he slipped into the car.

She pointed to the sedan like a movie extra. “Follow that car, sir.”

The cabbie shook his head, but he pulled out and followed Falcon. She gripped her seat belt and leaned forward. Another car wove between them.

“Can’t you drive faster?”

“This ain’t The Fast and the Furious.”

“It isn’t The Longest Day, either,” she mumbled.

When a red light forced her to watch Falcon’s car disappear ahead, she cursed. The light turned green. She bounced her heel and scanned the road, a shaky laugh releasing when she spotted the sedan at a distance. Falcon’s driver wasn’t taking weird side streets, worried about being followed. They hadn’t counted on one super fan, who’d been kissed and dismissed, to become a secret spy.

The cabbie, doing a pretty darned good Fast and Furious impression after all, dodged cars to catch up and flicked his signal to follow Falcon down a side street, but when they turned the corner, the sedan was gone.

He braked and shrugged. “Looks like we lost ’em.”

She squeezed her fists and groaned. They were in a residential area with old red brick homes. Most porches had warped steel awnings. Long staircases led up to front doors, and there wasn’t a soul in sight. So much for doubling down her efforts and demanding answers from Falcon.

The cabbie looked in his rearview mirror at her. “Where to now?”

She closed her eyes, tried to slow her breaths. This wasn’t the end. She wouldn’t let her frustrations derail her efforts. This drive to succeed made her want to sink her teeth into her life more fully, hunker down and see what she could accomplish. Sighing, she opened her eyes, and her spine snapped straight.

A man was walking on the opposite side of the street, toward the main intersection. She couldn’t see his face, but he was dressed in black with a backpack hanging off one shoulder. When he passed under a streetlight, sparkles and colorful feathers caught the light—Falcon’s mask sticking out of the bag.

She did a happy dance in her seat. “I’ll get out here, sir. Thank you for the top-notch driving.”

Money shoved at him, she hurried out and followed Falcon at a distance. She should have worn a black unitard, not the flowery dress she’d scored at a secondhand shop, but the mid-thigh cut looked cute with her ankle boots, and she wanted Falcon to like what he saw. Another kiss might help get Wes off her mind.

She stuck to the shadows as much as possible, keeping back, biding her time. The man hiked up his bag, and the mask poked farther out. There was no mistaking his build or those beautiful feathers. She still couldn’t see his face, but her skin tingled, curiosity and excitement buzzing. When she gathered her courage, she’d call his name. Confront him about his disappearing act. She’d see the man below the mask and demand he teach her his ways.

The best part? Dude had no clue his cover was about to be blown.

* * *

Weston inhaled until his lungs ached, then exhaled through his nose as his shoes echoed off the sidewalk, a backbeat to the rhythmic whooshing in his ears. He should have let his driver take him home tonight. It would have left him time to reorganize his intro for his next show. Play with the video footage, since tonight’s venue hadn’t had space for his new setup.

He should have done a lot of things, but he’d needed air. To just walk. Breathe. Try to get his head right.

Tonight’s set had gone well. His mixes had been seamless, the new songs he’d chosen hitting perfectly. The crowd had been amped up, moving as one, a writhing beast feeding off his music. He was sometimes twitchy after shows, too wired to sleep, adrenaline pumping. This restlessness was more frustrated than euphoric, though. And he knew why.

Annie hadn’t been there.

He’d been nervous before his set, wondering if she’d show, dreading it. He was tired of fighting his feelings for her, wished everything could go back to how it had been before. But there was no undoing that kiss, or untangling his growing attraction to her from their years of friendship. He’d been sure her absence at his shows would free his mind from this relentless confusion. It had only increased his distraction.