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One kick-ass rock show, many champagne cocktails and three encores later, darkness finally fell as Jesse left the stage.
I was so blown away I just stood there applauding for at least five minutes with my jaw hanging open.
I definitely wasn’t the only one.
The show had started with a couple of on-air DJ’s from a local morning show introducing Jesse and warming up the crowd with some jokes. They said some really nice things about Jesse and all the cool things he’d done for the local music scene and the community, like investing in a local music school, starting up a music camp for at-risk youth, and co-producing an album for an up-and-coming local band.
Then Zane and some local record producer came out and said more nice things about Jesse—when the crowd would stop screaming enough to let Zane speak. He laughed through most of it and told everyone to calm the fuck down, which just made the crowd go wilder.
By the time Jesse, Raf, Letty and Pepper took the stage, it was to a storm of applause. They kicked off the show with a slightly sped-up version of the first lead single off Sunday Morning,Come Lately, which heated up the club, fast.
The rest of the show was like a slow descent into a simmering make out session.
They played about half the songs from the new album and a bunch of Dirty songs, Jesse Mayes style, which pretty much meant stripped down, slowed down and completely panty-peeling. I already knew a lot of Dirty’s songs, and I’d been listening to them on repeat since we shot the video. I could definitely say I was now hooked on the band. Hard not to be when you combined Zane’s dead-sexy voice, raw, throaty and powerful, with the band’s lusty, aggressive, drive-you-to-the-edge-of-an-orgasm sound, and some of the most heartrending, brilliantly poetic lyrics I’d ever heard. By the time the show climaxed with Jesse’s orgasm-inducing version ofDirty Like Me, there was no way there was a dry pair of panties in the place.
For the first encore, Dylan took over for Pepper on drums for a high-octane performance of one of Dirty’s greatest hits,Down With You, which completely blew the doors off the house. Then Zane joined Jesse on stage for an unplugged version of Dirty’sRunaround. The final song of the night was a stripped-down acoustic version of one of my favorite songs off Jesse’s new album,Breaking Bitter, featuring Jesse and a guitar alone on stage.
The thunder of the crowd kept on rolling as I stood there cheering, my hands sore from applauding, my throat getting hoarse from all the screaming. If I didn’t feel like I could call myself a legit fan of Jesse Mayes’ music before this night, there was no question I was one now. The man had thoroughly convinced me of his genius. I already knew his recorded music was amazing, but his live show was epic.
I had goose bumps.
I was sweating.
I was horny as hell.
I suddenly understood why chicks threw their underwear at dudes on stage. There was, in fact, at least one pair of panties that someone had tossed at Jesse at some point in the night, and Raf had hung on his mic stand. It was still dangling there in the single light that shone on stage, frilly and pink. The sight of it pretty much summed up Jesse’s effect on the crowd.
I was pretty sure everyone was hoping he’d just keep coming back out on stage to blow our minds again and again. But the club DJ signaled the definite end of the show, dropping The Killers’Somebody Told Me. Devi headed down to the dance floor with some guy who’d glued himself to her side during Jesse’s set. The rest of Jesse’s group was staggered throughout the VIP room, talking, drinking, and generally making noise.
I excused myself from the table where I still sat with Dolly, figuring it was a good time to use the washroom. Jude had disappeared toward the end of Jesse’s set, no doubt to meet up with him backstage. I nodded at Flynn, thinking I should acknowledge him, since the man had watched my every move all night. It was clear to me by now, though no one had said so, that he’d been told to watch over me.
I headed down the hall off the VIP area where I saw the washroom sign, quickly. I wanted to be back at the table when Jesse arrived so I could congratulate him on the incredible show and be on hand if he needed me for any photo ops or whatever.
At the mirror over the sink, I took inventory; I figured I looked kinda killer in my red lace dress, which flattered my dark hair and my blue-green eyes, though they were kinda hazy from the champagne. I was washing my hands, but my mind was on what I’d say to Jesse as I tried to put words to my thoughts about the show. So I didn’t quite register the door of the washroom opening behind me… until I glimpsed Josh in the mirror.
That’s right. My ex-fiancé, tall, blond and entitled, strolled into the ladies’ room.
Then he shut the door and flipped the lock.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said. He sauntered over to one of the open cubicles in his expensive suit, stood with his back to me and undid his pants, and pissed in the toilet.
I stared, dumbfounded. “What the hell are you doing?”
I looked around; no urinals. I was definitely in the ladies’ room.
“Taking a piss,” he said. “And a moment of your time.”
As he shook himself off, I grabbed a paper towel to dry my hands, bent on getting the hell out of there. By the time I grabbed my purse and bolted for the door, he’d intercepted my path. His belt was still undone, but at least he’d put his dick away.
“Come on, babe,” he said, taking me by the shoulders. “You gotta talk to me sometime.”
I shrugged his hands off, avoiding his pale blue eyes; his hair was longer than it used to be and kept flopping into them. It was a good look on him. “Do I?” I crossed my arms over my chest, clutching my purse to my ribs.
“You won’t return my calls. What do you expect me to do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not accost me in a bathroom?”
