A smile stretches across my face as Mayhem fills with the rafter-shaking roar of our fans, and I glance at Hailey to find her eyes wide with surprise and her lips parted in awe. As if she can feel me watching, she meets my gaze, and my smile widens as I twirl a drumstick between my fingers-showing off a little even as I try to assure her that, in spite of all the fans and fame and noise, I'm still the same guy who squeezed into her pink bunny pajama shirt last night just to see her laugh.
I know sometimes this "rock star" thing is a lot for her to process-sometimes it's a lot for me to process-but beneath these blinding lights, I'm still me. I'm still me, and I'm still hers, and nothing is ever going to change that.
"Now sing it with me if you know the words," Adam instructs the crowd, and I take my cue, setting a rhythm on the drums as I remember the night we shot this music video.
I knew I was going to kiss Hailey that night. I'd broken up with Danica, and I was supposed to leave on tour the next morning, but there was no way I was stepping foot on that plane until I'd kissed Hailey at least once. It was all I could think about as I watched her shoot scenes in that sexy red dress. I just wanted to steal her away, take her face in my hands, and see if I could make her feel the sparks she said she'd never felt before.
I had no idea I'd never felt them either, but as her fingers scraped over my scalp and her body moved against mine as I kissed her in the woods-as she kissed me back-I felt like I was on fire, and I was sure my heart was going to explode in my chest. My heart, my body, my mind: they were all consumed by her, and now, when I glance at her standing offstage, smiling at me like only she can, I feel the same way.
The girl is fireworks. She doesn't even have to be doing anything special. She can just be sitting on my couch in a pair of cat pajama pants and one of my Guinness T-shirts, playing Deadzone with a pizza slice balanced on one leg and Phoenix's front paws resting on the other, and all I want to do is drop to one knee in front of her and ask her to spend the rest of my life with me.
I might have already asked if I didn't know that Adam is planning on proposing to Rowan in Paris in a few months. We have a show set up, we're bringing the girls with us, and he already bought the ring months ago. I don't want to steal his thunder, but as soon as he pops the question, I'm not waiting. I'm not planning the rest of my life based on anyone else except me and Hailey-we've done enough of that already.
Back in December, when I asked Hailey if she planned on spending Christmas with Danica's family, she finally told me everything she'd been keeping from me while I was on tour. She told me about Danica's ultimatum and how much she struggled with the decision, and she confessed it like she thought it would make me love her less, when really, it would have made me love her more, if loving her more was possible. I couldn't believe that she had been faced with that choice-her lifelong dream or me-and she had chosen me. And when she told me about Danica punching her in the mouth, I was ready to lose my shit-right up until Hailey smiled wide and told me she punched Danica back, and that she broke her damn nose.
My girl. Badass street fighter. She never stops surprising me.
It's one of the reasons why my grandmother's wedding ring is currently burning a hole in the glove compartment of my truck. I asked my mom for it a few days after she met Hailey for the first time, and her eyes filled with happy tears as she removed it from her antique wooden jewelry box and slipped it into the palm of my hand. When I was in high school, I thought I'd someday give that ring to Danica, but it never felt like the right time, and I doubted my mom would give it to me anyway, considering how passionately she hated my girlfriend. Now, every day that I don't put that ring on Hailey's finger feels like an eternity too long.
I try to concentrate on my drums, but I can't. I try to concentrate on the crowd, but I can't. I try to feel the heat of the lights pouring down over my shoulders, but I can't. All I can feel is the way my heart is knocking against my ribs at the thought of that ring and what Hailey might say when I give it to her.
I glance over at her again-standing with Rowan and Dee in the shadows of backstage-and she gives me a little wave. She's wearing tennis shoes, tight jeans, a The Last Ones to Know T-shirt, and an oversized hoodie tied around her waist-and she's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. She claps her hands in encouragement, and I have no idea how I'm going to wait five more months to put a ring on her left hand. But then she smiles-brighter than any star I've ever seen-and I know: I can't. There's only one thing that would make this night more perfect, and I can't wait even one more day to do it.
"I want to set them off tonight," I tell Shawn after our encore, and his green eyes widen.
"Tonight?"
I nod, and Shawn glances at Adam, Joel, and Kit, who meet us backstage at the opposite side from the girls.
"You want to set them off right now?"
"Tonight?" Joel interrupts, his eyes even wider than Shawn's. "Now?"
I look at Adam and ask, "Is that okay?"
The corners of my childhood friend's mouth pull way up, and he claps me on the back before yanking me into a hug. "You've waited long enough, man. Tonight's all yours."
I hug him back, and when Shawn yanks on my shoulder, I hug him too. I hug Joel, and I hug Kit, and when I finally meet Hailey at the other side of the stage, I take her hand in mine. "Come on, I want to show you something."
In my truck, my fingers race as quickly as my thoughts. I know Hailey picked me over school, but is she sure she wants me for the rest of her life? Does she want to grow old with me like I want to grow old with her? Does she picture the same picket fence, the same porch swing, the same orange sunflowers growing outside our bedroom window and the same banana pepper garden planted out back? My fingertips drum a mile a minute against my leg, and when Hailey looks over at me, she says, "You seem nervous."
"How?"
She reaches over and clasps her fingers with mine, and I try to stop fidgeting. "Just leftover excitement," I lie. "Tonight's show was awesome, wasn't it?"
Hailey's eyes light up with her smile. God, she's beautiful. "I never thought being in the pit could be so much fun," she says, and I squeeze her hand, remembering what a blast we'd had watching Cutting the Line.
Before the show, Adam had asked what she thought of us when she first watched us perform at Mayhem back in September, and Hailey groaned as she recalled "Armpit Guy" and the terrible time she'd had with Danica. I decided she needed a better memory, and I convinced two kids right up front to let me and Hailey take their spots in exchange for backstage passes. I helped them crawl over the railing, and then I lifted Hailey up and set her down in the pit, front and center. I hopped in after her and stood at her back, my arms protecting her on both sides, and when Cutting the Line came out, the crowd went absolutely insane. I've always been more of a balcony guy than a pit guy, but as my body got pinned against Hailey's backside, I decided this was one show I was definitely going to enjoy.
We jumped up and down together, screaming lyrics Hailey learned on the spot, and the harder she laughed, the harder I laughed with her. By the time it was my turn to take the stage, I was so full of happy energy, I felt like I could float right up to my drums.
"That was definitely the most fun I've ever had at a show," I tell her, and Hailey smirks.
"You just liked that you got to dry-hump me for an hour."
I can't help chuckling as I hold on to her hand. "It was my favorite part."
She blushes in spite of her teasing, and I brush my thumb over her hand as I stare back out at the road.
"Where are we going?" she asks, and my thumb gets restless again, threatening to start drumming against her knuckles.
"Wait and see."
Fifteen minutes later, we pull down the access road leading to the pond, and I help Hailey out of my truck before sticking my head back inside the passenger door to reach inside my glove compartment. "I think I've got a flashlight in here," I tell her, and I rummage around before closing the glove compartment and joining her outside. I hold the flashlight with one hand and sneak the other into my pocket.
As we walk, I tell her, "I came up here after I got back from touring to make sure they cleaned up, and I found a generator they left up here."