“And last but not least, let’s give it up for Parker Shaw on the lead guitar!” Rafe shouted into the microphone.
The roar was immense, the audience chanting and screaming. He looked to Parker again. This time Parker was acknowledging the crowd, walking along the stage and waving. He knew Parker wouldn’t be doing this again, but, fuck, he was making awesome memories. If this was going to be his last concert, then it would be one that neither of them—or the audience—would ever forget.
Hot and sweaty and on an immense high from all the adrenaline, it was such a rush to see the joy on Parker’s face. He sure deserved it with the amount of stress he’d put himself under.
They stumbled from the stage, all laughter and back slaps.
“Fucking awesome, man.”
“That rocked!”
“You nailed it, Parker, man. Way to go.”
They were hustled to a backstage area. Rafe grabbed a water bottle and sucked the cold liquid back before reaching for another. He downed that one quickly too, replenishing the fluids lost during the performance. He accepted the congratulations of other bands and the support crew but dodged the press who were covering the event. He needed to catch his breath and bring his heart rate under control. Plus, all he wanted to do was talk to Parker, to see how he was feeling now the enormous thing he’d been dreading was over.
Finally, he was able to drag Parker away from the crowd and hustled them to a much quieter far corner.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Parker. That was freaking brilliant. Even better than last night.”
Parker chuckled. “I’ll have to take your word for it. I was so shit scared that a lot of it’s a blur from the time we walked up the stage steps until the very last song. Bloody hell, I’ve never seen so many people in my life, a whole frigging sea of screaming fans. I had to stop looking out into the crowd and focus on the stage instead.”
“I saw you gripping that guitar like a lifeline.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.” Parker reached for his hand, and Rafe curled his fingers into Parker’s. “Your confidence, and the faith you placed in me—”
“Faith that was well-deserved, as proved tonight—”
“Andyour other strategies.”
Rafe raised a brow. “Yeah? What strategy?”
Parker’s cheeks flushed as he looked at Rafe from beneath those pretty auburn lashes. “I went with number five.”
“Did you now?” Rafe leaned closer, senses filling with Parker’s scent. “And did it do the trick?”
“Why do you think I was gripping that guitar so hard?”
Holy shit!Just the idea of Parker imagining him naked up there. He cleared his throat. “Glad I could help.”
Parker’s eyes twinkled, and Rafe wanted to close the small gap between them with a kiss. “I also put number three into practice.”
Rafe drew back slightly. “Number three?”
“I visualised my reward.” The look in Parker’s green eyes was unmistakable as he swallowed heavily and his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Oh.” Parker’s reward was Rafe. His cock plumped as he envisaged exactly the reward he planned to give Parker, and his heart skipped a beat when Parker squeezed his hand. “I think that can be arranged, especially as you’ve been a very,verygood boy.”
Parker’s eyes darkened and his breath hitched before he glanced away. Rafe was attuned to each movement and was therefore surprised when Parker gripped his hand slightly before breaking contact. The reason became obvious as Van and Sheila approached.
“There you are. I feel like you’re always hiding from me,” Sheila said. “Great performance, boys. Very impressive. I think you’ve shown that you’ve got what it takes.”
“The crowd agrees,” Van said, grin wide. “You’re going to give Sikorski a run for our money. But don’t think we’ll give up our top spot too easily.” He gave Rafe a friendly punch to the biceps.
“Friendly rivalry will most definitely spice things up. I love it.” Sheila gave a clap of approval. “The press will eat it up. But it’s now time for you two lovebirds to get the rumour mill going with your fairy-tale romance.” She looked from Rafe to Van. “Top rockers meet at Rocktoberfest, and so begins an epic love story.”
He sensed Parker stiffen at his side.
Rafe looked directly to Sheila. “I have a better idea. Instead of all the made-up bullshit, why don’t we tell the true story? A story of the lead singer of a rock band who had his eyes opened by a mega smart, courageous, and cute-as-all-hell guitar player who has no idea of his own awesomeness.”
