“Good,” he said, leaning in and kissing me tenderly on the nose. His thumbs caressed the side of my face. A remarkably gentle act from such a volatile man.
“Stand in front. I want to see you when I sing,” Cole murmured, leaning in to kiss me on the mouth. And this one wasn’t hateful or angry. It was soft and almost loving. And it shook me to my core.
Then he was gone and I stood there, my back against the wall, trying to catch my breath, not sure what the hell had just happened.
Maysie stood off to the side, her arms crossed, shaking her head. I straightened my spine and walked back to the bar, ordering myself a Lemon Drop and tossed it back. Then I ordered another. And another.
If I were going to make it through the night I’d need help. And my good friend, vodka, would do the trick.
“You always put on a good show, I’ll give you that,” Gracie said dryly, sitting beside me at the bar, watching the people around us. It was hard to ignore the increasing number of girls who were coming into the venue. All decked out in their best metal slut gear. Most of them hoping a flash of skin would get them a night with one of the guys on stage.
I watched as a group of girls tried to make conversation with Garrett and Jordan. Both were polite but obviously uninterested. Maysie was in a corner talking to some people I recognized as the roadie crew. She didn’t seem remotely bothered by the women chatting up her fiancé. And I knew Riley wouldn’t care if she were here either.
Because they didn’t have anything to worry about. Jordan and Garrett were loyal to the women they loved.
The girls finally got the hint and turned their attentions from Garrett and Jordan to Mitch and Cole. When Mitch was too absorbed in tuning his bass to give them what they were looking for, their entire focus honed in on the man I had come to see.
The man who would never truly been mine.
And he smiled and flirted and laughed when they rubbed his arm. He gave them exactly what they wanted. He teased and seduced with only a look and a grin. The girls ate it up. And he loved it. I could see it from here.
My chest started to ache and an unfamiliar thickness squeezed my throat.
“Come on Viv, they’re about to start,” Gracie said, tugging on my arm. I was being uncharacteristically maudlin. I felt like hanging in the back and sulking. But instead I tossed my hair around my shoulders and straightened my shirt to hang low over my breasts. I ran my finger around the edge of my lips, getting rid of any smudges.
Then we pushed and shoved our way to the front where I knew Cole could see me.
Their music started low and languid. Cole’s deep, throaty growl into the mic echoed around the room. The crowd went instantly quiet, the light of a hundred cellphones lighting up.
I knew they were going to be amazing as always, though I couldn’t help but pick up on a very significant difference. It wasn’t anything anyone in the crowd would notice. It was only something close to those on stage would be aware of.
Cole stood out front, his hands clasped around the mic, his eyes closed. Garrett and Mitch stood behind him, their faces turned down to their instruments. Jordan sat at his drums, his mouth set in a firm line as he beat in time to the strains of the music.
They looked like a rock band.
But they each looked miserable. They were musicians that fed off each other. They were always looking and communicating with one another before, during and after every show.
Tonight it was like watching four separate individuals up there rather than one cohesive unit.
There was a major rift going on. And for the first time I truly worried for the fate of my favorite band. Because this didn’t seem like something they’d easily fix.
But then Cole opened his mouth and I stopped worrying about the boys’ drama and allowed myself to get lost in the show.