He comes over and sits on the sofa next to me. “You worried me for a second there,” he says as he rests his hand on my naked thigh. That surge of heat is back and flows through my legs all the way to my core.
“Sorry.” I bite my lip and look away.
“Don’t be sorry. But I want to knowwhyyou were leaving?” I look at the medic who’s busy bandaging my knee, and Colt gives her a side-eye, chuckling.
“She has an NDA and won’t repeat anything you say.”
The medic says, “Nope, I hear nothing and see nothing. It’s all part of the job.”
“Um…” I pause a little, not knowing how to even talk about this. “The Slayettes were telling me all about how, um… you… well—”
“Spit it out, Dee.”
His words are intense and demanding. It makes me take another mouthful of the awful liquor, which, in turn, sends a fire down my throat. So I cough once before spitting out my words, “They were all talking about how you like spicy girls and not sweet ones and how spicy they’veallbeen with you.” I say the words superfast, then take another sip, partly to cover my embarrassment.
Who even talks about this stuff?
I want to curl up and die right now.
He nods and rests back against the sofa. “Right.” He takes his hand off my thigh, and I know I shouldn’t have told him. Also, the Slayettes will probably be furious with me for telling him too. I’ve said too much!
“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”
“No, all good. I’d better get ready. We’re on in an hour, and I have shit…” Colt trails off and stands, running his hand through his hair. He looks down at me and huffs before walking out of the room, leaving me sitting stunned.
Taking another sip of Jack, I decide this bottle will be my new best friend tonight.
When the medic finishes, she places her hand on my shoulder in a comforting gesture. “If you need anything, just call security and ask for Tessa.”
I dip my chin and smile—there’s not much to say.
Tessa gathers her stuff and leaves me alone in the band’s dressing room.
Taking my new best friend, Jack, with me, I enter the hallway. There’s no way I will return to the Slayette’s room, so I’ll take a look around instead. Immediately, I’m drawn to the music playing and follow it backstage, where Colt’s band is rehearsing.
Colt has a guitar wrapped around him, Dingo is sitting at the back on the drums, Johnny—I guess that’s Johnny as wehaven’t been formally introduced—is holding another guitar, but it has fewer strings, a bass, I think, and I still don’t know the other guy’s name, but who I assume is Colt’s brother due to the likeness has a guitar as well.
With his amazing ink and a guitar wrapped around him, Colt’s bare chest is doing all sorts of things to my insides. Either that or it’s my best friend, Jack, who’s making me feel light-headed. Either way, Colt has the total rock god vibe, and I’m excited to hear him sing. He steps up to the microphone stand and fiddles with its position, then moves in close.
“Check, one, two, check,” he says, and his words echo throughout the stadium. Then he strums the guitar, and the sound floods my ears.
Wow, that’s loud!But I guess it has to be for everyone to hear it over the screaming fans.
Dingo clicks his drumsticks together, then the rest follow, their music coming together in harmony. Normally, I’d call myself a pop music lover—although my father would prefer if I said I loved the classics—but the sounds coming from Colt’s guitar send shivers up and down my spine. I may have been converted to a rock music lover in the first thirty seconds of an unfamiliar song.
A thrill of excitement courses through my veins as I step closer to watch Colt as he edges toward the microphone again. When he starts to sing the song’s opening line, my heart explodes into tiny dancing shards. The bass reverberates through me, and my body pulses in a way I’ve never felt before. A big, goofy smile spreads across my face as Colt’s deeply sexy voice belts out the chorus. Drawing my lower lip between my teeth, I feel an ache and need I haven’t felt before.
Four years with Joseph never made me feel the way I’m feeling right now.
Heck, Joseph never made me feel anything like this…ever.
Colt isn’t just the god of rock. He’s the chaos that fuels it, the kind of legend women would sell their souls to touch.And damn if I’m not one of them.
Just watching him detonates something inside me. Hot, reckless, a wildfire that devours everything in its path. My pulse slams against my ribs, every nerve tuned to the way he moves, the way he owns the stage like he was born to set it on fire.
I grab my Jack and knock back a burning gulp, but it does nothing to steady me. I exhale sharply, my heart racing, because this—Colt—isn’t just an attraction.
It’s a freefall.
