All those thoughts ran through my head constantly. I had to stop doing this to myself.
I took the time to go home and change into more club-appropriate clothing, a tight black skirt with a shimmery blue halter top. I wondered if I shouldn't wear a Darkest Days band t-shirt, but that would probably be too fangirl of me. I could imagine the disgust on Noah's face if I showed up wearing one. The thought was funny enough to tempt me, but my outfit made me feel sexy, and I needed some of that.
As pathetic as it was, I needed to feel like I, Jennifer Young, was desirable in my own right, and not just because I happened to be the only "consultant" Noah Hart could stand to be around.
When I arrived at the club, I was let in by the bouncer immediately. I had half-wondered if Noah would forget to tell them my name and I'd be left out in the cold.
It seemed like the party had been in full swing for hours. I'd shown up just in time to catch the performance. Since I didn't know anyone else and didn't bring my friends as ordered. I made my way to the front of the stage and planted myself there with a drink in my hand.
I only had to wait a few minutes before people started crowding beside and behind me. The air in the room crackled with anticipation. Squeals and cheers and shouts gave way to a wave of chanting as the crowd began yelling for Darkest Days.
The lights in the room dimmed, sending the crowd into a frenzy. Five shadowy figures made their way on stage. My breath caught in my throat. My heartbeat pounded wildly in my chest. No matter how many times I'd seen them perform, my body always responded with that familiar kick of adrenaline. Even working closely with a member of the band hadn't diminished the effect.
Cymbals crashed and lights exploded, illuminating the stage as music blasted from the speakers. As my eyes adjusted to the blinding light, I had a brief moment to ponder that Noah hadn't even said a word of greeting or congratulations to the birthday girl before starting. Typical.
Then my vision cleared and I found myself staring up at Noah Fucking Hart, Rock Star God. His leather jacket hung open, revealing a tight t-shirt clinging to every peak and valley of his abs. The tattoos of his upper chest were visible above the shirt's collar. Messy dark hair fell over his forehead, highlighting his angular cheekbones. His dark eyes were heated. My inner muscles quivered.
As Noah sang, all sense flew from my mind. I was trapped, ensnared by the inhuman talent this man possessed. It wasn't only the way he sang, or the sound of his voice. It was the words themselves, like he was digging deep inside me, exposing my soul and flinging it outward for the world to see.
Noah's gaze roved over the crowd slowly, as if making eye contact with each and every person. As if he were singing to them and them alone. Although he played it cool in person, the limelight ignited a fervor inside him. He scanned the front. He laid eyes on me. He paused, eyes flashing with heat, narrowing with a dark desire. A full body flush ran through me, centering between my legs.
Concerts were always emotional for me, especially Darkest Days concerts, but I'd never experienced this before. I felt gutted, drained, and laid bare. The band was only three songs in and I was ready to weep.
Our eyes were locked, him on stage and me in the audience, as if we were the only two people in the room. In the world. His words washed over me, words of love and devotion, words of anger and despair. It was as if I was feeling every emotion humans were capable of, all at once.
His flicked his eyes away and I was let go from the spell. I found myself breathless, gasping for air. The club was stifling hot. Bodies pressed me from every side. I had to get out.
I elbowed my way through the crowd until I found myself free. I took a moment to gather myself and made my wobbly way up to the second floor, where there were fewer people and more seating. I slumped down in a plush armchair with a view of the stage.
I couldn't do this.
Watching that band perform, watching that man perform, reminded me of all the insecurities I'd had the first moment when I'd been offered this job.
Noah's songs made me feel something almost otherworldly. His talent was beyond anything I'd ever experienced. Watching him was as enlightening as it was enrapturing.
I knew in that instant I could never create something so brilliant as to match the talent of Noah Fucking Hart.
