I may not be ready to take the next step with Axl, but I know what I did last night means Brent and I aren’t in the direction of marriage. Considering my mom is pushing for that sobadly, it’s better to cut things off now. We both deserve more, better, just not from each other.
The phone rings only a few times before I’m sent to his voicemail. I furrow my brow, curious as to why he declined my call only to see a text as soon as I go to redial.
Brent:
Sorry, lovely. Can’t see you tonight. Have to cancel x
I sigh,but I’m not really surprised. Brent has canceled a lot of our dates recently, but I’m disappointed that I can’t meet up with him to end things.
I can’t break up with him over text. It feels wrong and dirty after the offenses I’ve already committed, so I’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I don’t plan to sit in my room and fret over the situation, which complicates things. Nope, I have something much better in mind.
The cold,brisk air feels dangerous in this parking lot. I walk my way across, trying not to jump at everything that comes out of the darkness. The streetlamp flickers up above, obstructing the view as I walk to the front door of the bar.
At least I’m wearing sensible shoes in case I need to run back to my car.
When I enter, the atmosphere is electric. Laughing and smiling patrons fill the space, the scents of everyone mingling together along with the slight staleness of spilled liquor. I hear the thrumming bass from the music, feel it echo throughout mybody as I linger closer to its source. The stage is tiny and stuffed in the corner, but it’s a sight to behold.
Axl’s band is already performing, and my heart beats wildly in my chest.
I watch, mesmerized. I don’t even want to go to the bar to get a drink because that would mean missing a single second of this glorious talent in front of me. They all mesh together, playing off each other’s energy. You can tell that they are friends and comfortable with each other. Tini works a bass guitar, her lip between her teeth in concentration as she listens for cues from the guys. Ledger is on the guitar to the left, his guitar pick firm in his grip as he plays the chords in a fast rhythm. My eyes almost can’t keep up. Then, Magnus is behind the microphone, singing with harsh tones in a haunting, rocking melody.
But no matter how much they all look like a real band, Axl dominates the stage even from the back of it. His sticks pound down onto the drums, the rhythm pulling the entire melody together. His lips tug at the corners, a cockiness on his face even during the pressure of performing to a live crowd. His hair swings with his movements, flying in all directions.
And he looks happy. So deeply and authentically happy.
I’m not sure how long I stand there, hollering with the rest of the crowd after every song and instrument solo, but it isn’t nearly long enough. I lose track of time, completely captivated and unable to move from the mere beauty of them. I feel the same rush that I got from the race, the excitement vibrating in my skin. And the more I watch Axl, the more my body craves him.
When they finish the final song, it’s bittersweet. I could stand here and listen to them all day, but the night is drawing on. They start to disperse, a few people stopping to speak to them here and there. I venture to the front, working my waythrough body after body to get to them, and when I do, I find Axl.
He’s talking to some strawberry blonde, her hand touching his arm, and I see red.
Or green. Something, but the next thing I know, I’m marching up, my teeth gritted together in frustration.
When Axl sees me, his face lights up and, ever the observer, he clocks my jealousy immediately. The cocky bastard has the nerve to smirk at me, an amused taunt on his face even as I close the distance between us.
I roll my eyes.He’s such an asshole.
“Stacey!” He greets me, his attention fully turning to me as I enter the space between him and the girl he’s talking to. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Ledger told me you guys were playing,” I say simply. I look over at the girl and she’s sneering. My lips curve up, both salty and sweet, and I reach my hand out. “Hi, I’m Stacey. His girlfriend.”
She balks. “I?—”
“Yeah, I was about to tell you,” Axl adds before his arm moves around me. The motion pulls me closer, our sides touching in a way that leaves me sweating under these stage lights. “She was just complimenting me on my playing.”
“You did great. It was so hot,” I say, supposedly playing a role, but the comment is sincere. His playing was seriously hot.
Axl’s eyes stick to my face and travel to my mouth for the briefest second. I suddenly feel overheated, his attention on me as potent as ever. The girl must walk away because I can no longer smell the lemonade scent lingering in the air, but I don’t turn to check. I’m enraptured by his eyes on me, and I don’t want to miss a single second of it.
“So, you came looking for me today?” he asks, his smile both teasing and curious.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I say as a jerk reaction, but then I let the mask fall. “I just… yes, I did. I wanted to see you.”
Axl’s smile is blinding, like I said everything he’s ever wanted to hear and more—even though it was just a tiny truth.
“Do you want to get high with me?” he asks, a wicked grin appearing on his face. “I normally smoke after a gig.”
My brows shoot upwards. “Here?”
