Not only is their music great, but they’re ridiculously gracious and humble with their fans. They spend time with them, giving them the attention they need and deserve. That’s what’s setting Recoil apart from the other bands out there at the moment and why they’re loved and adored. They may not be the all-time number-one band in the world just yet, but sure as hell, they’re clawing their way up there fast.
It won’t be long.
My guys will get there.
I feel it in my bones!
They give back to their fans, like right now they’re doing an intimate show with just two hundred people, mainly competition winners. The few tickets sold were pricey, with the proceeds going to Lunar’s foundation, which she’s running on the road with help from her foundation headquarters. She’s so amazing in the way she can run her foundation across two countries, operate the merchandise booths, keep her relationship perfect, live the life of a rocker’s fiancée, and still look perfect every second of every day. That woman astounds me.
The strobe lights catch my attention as the encore performance starts. The beat hits hard as Nate slams heavy on the percussion, and a smile forms on my face. The vibration makes my entire body move without thinking about it. The small room is dark, lit only by the stage lights—bright yellows and purples—strobing in time with the beats, thumping and thrashing a deep, hard rumble.
An electric wave sounds through the air, and my hairs stand to attention on my arms, sending a tingle down my spine. I can’t see him, but I know he’s on the stage, shrouded in darkness, strumming at his guitar, sending a haunting sound through the room. The crowd is silent as the music fills the space. The guitar filters through along with the drums, the rhythm a perfect tune before Matt’s bass chimes in. They’re in perfect sync. Everything is slow with a torturous tempo, a painful dance of anguish and woe.
Suddenly, the tempo picks up. Ryan slams on his guitar, and the lights shine down, illuminating him completely. He’s shirtless, his chest glistening under the heat of the lights. His muscles strain with the movements, and the slight outline of his abs is starting to appear.
The crowd erupts into a frenzy, cheering and screaming, jumping up and down in a mad haze of adoration for Ryan. He’s never looked as good as he does right now—in his element, center stage, and fitter than he has been for most of his life. He looks like the rock god he definitely is.
Taking a deep breath, I attempt to dull the throbbing ache I have for him by moving in a way a constant pressure sits across the bundle of nerves vibrating between my thighs. The man is delicious, and I know I’m not the only woman here with wet panties right now.
The fans scream even more when Danger runs onto the stage.
This place is erupting—their music is now only just audible over the screams.
It doesn’t take away from the performance. If anything, it adds to it.
As I stand back, I sway to the sounds, taking in the melody that my guys create together and enjoying their sound. For once, I’m able to watch, and not from behind a cell phone. There’s no live stream for this concert, seeing as it’s an exclusive event. It’s only fair, seeing as a few of these fans paid such a hefty price to attend.
When it finally comes to an end, I smile so wide as the crowd explodes into applause and foot stomping, and I clap along with them. They work the room well, and I’m pleased to be a part of this.
The guys take their final bow and head off the stage.
I make my way behind the curtain, and Ryan spots me. He turns, racing toward me, and I quicken my pace before launching myself at him. He chuckles as I jump into his arms for an embrace. He’s sweaty and sticky, but I don’t care. He’s also shirtless, and that’s incredibly distracting as I wrap my arms around his neck and press my body against his completely. My lips smash against his, and he runs his fingers through my hair, gently caressing my scalp.
We’re kissing in the back area, where the competition winners will be entering shortly. Hell, they’re probably coming in now. Watching Ryan up there on that stage does something to me. He turns me on like no man ever has, and seeing him handle his guitar gets me fired up.
I’m lost in a deep, sensual kiss when suddenly someone clears their throat right next to us, breaking the moment. I pull back from Ryan, and we turn toward the noise. Ryan’s face falls as he turns pale white, looking at the beautiful blonde bombshell likehe’s seen a ghost. He lets go of me, taking a step back, his body instantly tense.
“Mel?” he asks as I swallow hard, trying to read his expression.
“Hey, fucker,” she says and launches herself at him. He thrusts himself at her, and they collide in an epic-scale hug before they sway each other from side to side.
“Fucking hell, what are you doing here?” he asks, his look now changed to utter jubilation.
She shrugs. “Won a competition.”
Ryan slumps his body as I wrap my arms around mine. “If you wanted to see me, you could have called.”
She sighs and winces as I stand back, watching the two obviousfriends? exes? relatives?interact.
“I know, it’s just… hard.”
Ryan’s face falters, and he nods in acknowledgment. “I know.”
“Katie would have been so proud,” she says, making me furrow my brows.
“You think?” he asks while I stand back, wondering who the hell Katie is.
“I know! Being my best friend and all, I think I knew her pretty well,” she says, gripping his shoulder tightly. Seeing her hand on Ryan’s bare skin sends a wave of jealousy right through me, and I hate that I feel that way.
