I don’t know why, but my chest tightens, and I swear I can almost feel sparks crackling between us as our eyes lock. I can’t really see his expression through his mask, but his gaze seems to touch me everywhere.Time stretches, and it feels like we’ve been like this for minutes, though it’s probably only been thirty seconds. When he finally looks away, I’m jolted back to reality.
What the fuck was that?
“This one’s for you, beautiful,” he announces, tossing me one last glance before the band breaks into the opening notes of one of my favorite songs. Meanwhile, I am a mess of desire and ashes, totally scorched by him, and I feel like I'm standing here fully naked. I remind myself to breathe.
I have got to stop reading Stone Cold fanfics.
I’m transfixed as they move. Shifting across the stage, perfectly in sync as they pour their hearts out to the entire room. If I weren’t so hypnotized, I’d be disappointed that they have to leave soon, but I can’t focus on anything other than the weight of their music. I’m too caught up by the rasp in his voice as he belts out the words that have always felt like they were written just for me, and when the music slows to a low, melancholy rhythm, he walks across the stage and stops directly in front of me.
Well, my panties are ruined, because I don't think I've ever been this wet before.
I clench my thighs, and a shiver courses through me when his dark eyes slowly roll over my body from my head to my toes. It was so obvious that he was checking me out, even with his mask on. Or maybe this is just part of their performance. Either way, the gossipers are going to have a fucking field daydissecting what the hell is happening here when the snow clears.
Hell, I'd like to know, too.
He stays like this for the rest of the set, serenading me with words that have my heart ripping open, then pulling me back together at the same time. Heat pricks my cheeks when he finishes the last verse of “Familiar Ghosts”, one of their earlier singles about forbidden love, the whole time looking only at me.
The warmth of your breath
Cuts sharp through the night.
Our shadows confess
What daylight denies.
You burn in my chest
A ghost from a past time.
So give me your fire…
And I’ll give you mine.
I’d give him anything if he asked me to at this moment.
The entire bar is silent for a beat before erupting in a collective roar that bounces off the walls, but I pay them no mind as the masked man stands, removes his guitar, and walks off stage with a wave. I blink. I blink again, not knowing what the fuck to do after that. I look up at the bassist, and I'm only just noticing that he too, is staring at me, but when he and the drummer spin ontheir heels and hightail it after the lead singer, I can't help but laugh.
I'm being punked. This has Jovi written all over it.
I've got to give it to her.She's good.
I turn to leave, brushing through the maze of warm, sticky bodies, and beeline straight toward the exit. I grab my coat from the old rack, but before I even put it on, an arm reaches out and lightly grips my wrist. I look up to see who it is, and I am met with a tall guy with blond, disheveled hair, wearing a ragged Slipknot T-shirt that’s holier than Swiss cheese.
“Are you Shiloh?” he questions, and I kind of feel like I'm in trouble. In this town, who the hell knows? He looks like he just caught his best friend screwing his mother, so I decide to go easy on him, though I'm not afraid to throw in a headbutt if I have to.
“Who's asking?”
“You’re wanted backstage,” he says with a sigh, and he doesn't appear too happy about it.
“Who’s asking?” I say again, because surely they're not still doing the meet and greet. We have about three hours to get home before the snowstorm hits, which is more than enough time for me, but the ice slows the traffic down. I'm surprised they let the concert happen at all, and for this long.
“The band. They’ve requested to see you.”
No fucking way.
When I say nothing, he raises a brow, and I relent.
“Fine,” I say, as if meeting Stone Cold in the flesh isa hindrance, and not the best thing that will ever happen to me. Without another word, he spins on his heels, and I follow, trying to keep up as he barrels through the crowd without a care in the world.
