"I never really saved for anything special like that." I nodded to the guitar again. "So the two of you go way back. No wonder you seem so fond of her."
"You sound jealous," he said. "Maybe you'd like my hands caressing something else?"
I might have protested, but that leather jacket and eyeliner was doing something to my insides.
I couldn't deny a part of me was jealous of the way he fingered those strings.
"Hey asshole!" someone yelled from near the stage. "Stop flirting, we're on in five."
Nathan threw whoever it was the middle finger, not bothering to turn his attention to them.
"Show starts soon," he told me. "You watching from the pit or from backstage?"
"I'm not really a mosh pit kind of person," I said. The thought of being jostled and trampled sent a pang of anxiety running through me.
"You'll be safe if you watch from the wings," he said.
"It is kind of exciting," I said, "being able to watch your concert backstage."
"You've never seen Cherry Lips perform live before, have you?" he asked.
"I've never seen any rock band perform live," I confessed.
Nathan looked shocked before a delighted grin spread from ear to ear.
"So you're a virgin?" he teased. "I'm going to be your first?"
My tongue went heavy and thick again.
"Nate, come the fuck on," the guy called again.
"Sorry, sweetheart, gotta run." He eyed me thoughtfully. "Stick around after the show, all right?"
"Why—?"
But he'd already sauntered off. I stared after him as the lights went low and he took his place. I hurried toward the curtain. The audience had reached a fever pitch.
Lights blasted from the ceiling, shining down on the stage. The female lead singer shouted something into the microphone and the crowd cheered. Each band member positioned their instruments to start playing. Fans in the front row shouted out names and waved their hands widely.
I barely noticed any of it.
My eyes were focused solely on Nathan Walker.
