3
Ihadn't known what to expect from my first rock show. I'd thought it'd probably be loud, but I didn't realize it would nearly burst my eardrums. I'd figured the fans up front would be excited, but I never would have imagined they'd have tears streaming down their cheeks.
I also had no idea just how sexy someone could look holding a guitar. Because Nathan was beyond sexy. He took command of that stage, strutting back and forth, edging toward the pit so low he could touch the crowd's flailing hands, and throwing teasing winks and grins at the girls, and even a few boys, who cried out his name.
I tried to stay out of the way of the crew members, but with my eyes trained on Nathan the whole time, I found myself jostled and nudged to the side when I wandered too close to the stage. I wanted a closer look at the rock god playing to his audience. I wanted a closer look at the man who made my head go fuzzy. The man who sent my heart racing. The man who made my insides squirm and spark.
As much as I was enjoying the music, I was secretly counting down the minutes until he finally left that stage and came back to me. I didn't know what would happen when he returned, but I was more than happy he'd asked me to stay.
The concert wound down. The band played their last encore song and threw guitar picks and drumsticks to the surging crowd of bodies. Assistants and crew members rushed to their sides as they left the stage. I lingered a few feet away, not wanting to impose. Nathan was toweling off his sweat-dampened hair when our eyes met. He handed the towel to the girl standing next to him and made his way over to me.
"Hey, gorgeous," he said. "Enjoy the show?"
I nodded enthusiastically. "You were great out there."
"Always am." His grin was so boyishly cute I didn't even mind the display of ego. "The band's heading over to a club after this. You should come."
"Club? I don't know…" I hesitated.
"Don't tell me you're a club virgin, too?" he asked.
I stayed silent, pursing my lips.
"You can't miss out on this," he said, oddly earnest yet insistent. "This club is awesome. They make the best drinks. I'll buy you one."
"I don't really—"
I stopped when he chuckled and shook his head. "Let me guess. You don't drink, either?"
"I'm not against it. I just don't make a habit of it."
"I'll get you something weak and sugary, how's that?"
I contemplated the offer. Going clubbing and getting drunk with a rock star and his friends. It didn't sound like real life. It didn't sound like my life.
But maybe it could be. What was stopping me from going ahead with this crazy adventure? I'd missed out on so much of life already. Wasn't it about time I lived a little? And who better to do that with than a cocky rock star? I was sure Nathan knew how to have fun.
"Sure," I said. "Let's go clubbing."
"Awesome." He looked more pleased than seemed reasonable. "It's just around the corner. Let me change and we can head over."
I waited around until he returned wearing a plain black t-shirt. He'd kept on the tight jeans. Without any input from my brain, I found my eyes roving over his inked arms and broad shoulders.
"So what's your preference?" he asked when he noticed me staring. "Creepy-stalker-mode or rock star sex god?"
I decided to play along. "Ball caps do nothing for you, but spiked accessories are a bit too much. You can't go wrong with jeans and a t-shirt."
Especially when they looked painted on.
"I'll remember that for next time," he said.
Next time. My heart thumped a heavy beat.
"You're also the jeans and t-shirt type," he noted, gesturing to my outfit.
"Is there something wrong with that?" I asked. "I've been getting weird looks all night."
"It's not just your clothes," he said, his eyes roving all over my body. "It's you."
