The men shuffled onto the stage and hooked in their equipment. Jericho stood with his back to the crowd, wearing the sexiest pair of jeans I’d ever seen on a man. They were cut up, revealing a peek of black underwear. A long chain hooked from the back pocket to his belt loop, and the lights overhead cast shadows on the ropes of muscle on his toned arms. Women screamed and threw up their hands, forcing me to lean to the left so I could get a better view.
My heart raced as I watched the girls gyrate to the beat of Joker’s drums. Jericho kept his back to the crowd, strumming his guitar sexily, and it was then that I noticed April screaming for Trevor.
“He looks so good up there!” she said excitedly.
Trevor had on a pair of sunglasses, his hair gelled in different directions, and he was wearing a button-up shirt with a pair of oxford shoes. He looked like a rocker in disguise behind clean-cut clothes, and that had several women gravitating toward him.
Jericho turned his head, peering over his shoulder and delivering his signature panty-dropping smile.
He seduced with his wanton voice, singing into a microphone with his back to the crowd and a blue light enveloping him like a cloak. No one rushed the stage, but a few were beginning to recognize him. Jericho tilted his body to keep his tattooed arm out of sight. He continued engaging with the microphone stand, making love to it with words that rolled out in a sound I could only describe as sexrock. A steady beat, slow and rhythmic, increased in tempo as it would during lovemaking. His lyrics melted like honey into the mic and sweetened the crowd.
As fast as I could, I ran out of Howlers and sped away in my car.
***
“Nervous?” Jericho asked, watching Trevor retie his shoes for the twentieth time. “It’s not like you haven’t done this before.”
“Yeah, but that was a larger crowd,” Trevor said, leaning forward in the chair where they waited backstage at Howlers. They were going up in a few minutes to introduce their new sound as part of a “sneak peek” promo Jake had arranged.
Jericho laughed. “Usually it’s the other way around.”
“A smaller crowd is more intimate—I can see their faces up close, and I feel like they can tell I’m an imposter.”
Jericho lightly tapped his palm on Trevor’s forehead and then collapsed on the crappy sofa next to him. “You’re not an imposter. It always feels like that at first, when fame is new. We’re regular guys, but they look at us as gods or something. Been there, done that, you get over it. Here,” he said, tossing Trevor a pair of black sunglasses. “Put these on. You’ll be surprised how easily you can become someone else hiding behind a pair of shades. Just pretend when you get up there that everyone wants to have sex with you. Funnel that energy into your instrument and make love to it.”
“I’m not humping my bass.”
Joker laughed from the other side of the room, tapping his drumsticks rhythmically on a footstool. “Dude, that might actually sell more tickets. Hump away.”
Ren ignored everyone, strumming a melody on his guitar from an armless green chair.
Jericho eyed Joker suspiciously. He had an impish smile on his face that meant he either just got laid, he was going to get laid, or he had a practical joke planned. Earlier, Jericho had searched the room and inspected the instruments for anything suspicious. It came up clean, but he knew Joker had something up his sleeve.
They heard Jake making the intro.
“Come on, boys. We’re up. Let’s sell the shit out of this music, and then we won’t have to perform as much. It’ll sell itself online.” Jericho rose to his feet nervously.
Yeah, nervously.
He’d been in front of an audience a thousand times, but this night was different. This night was special. Minutes before, Jericho had been watching Isabelle from the back of the room. She looked abso-mazing, even with her hair a little shorter. It drew attention to the lovely features of her face. When his heart began to race with desire, he’d disappeared backstage and hung out there for the rest of the evening.
No one knew Heat was about to make their debut. A new sound, new bassist, and their songs would be made available online. It was a great way for them to earn extra money without having to book as many shows. Jericho knew some of the audience might recognize his voice, but the way he was going to perform the first song would throw them off. He planned on singing with his back to the crowd, hair covering his face, with a sultry voice like he’d never used.
But that’s not why his palms were sweating and his mouth was dry.