I fucking loved his music.
I got so lost in it, I forgot about everything else going on around me. I stopped feeling conspicuous or caring if anyone thought I should be here or questioned who the fuck I was. I forgot about Maggie and Brody and Jude.
I got so lost in it that it startled me when Jesse announced they were playing the last song.
Then the band ripped intoTry Me On, the heaviest track from Sunday Morning, and Maggie leaned over. “Let’s go see it from the other side,” she said.
◊◊◊
It was oddly otherworldly walking through the outer area, the public area, of the arena while the band played the final notes ofTry Me On. The music was muffled, my head felt like I was underwater and I made a mental note to get some earplugs before the next show. When the song ended, the thunder of the crowd was also muffled, thudding like an erratic heartbeat.
People began to trickle out of the many entrances from the arena bowl, and soon the trickle became a never-ending throng. Inside, thousands of people were still chanting Jesse’s name, demanding an encore.
The corridors filled, and Maggie took my hand as we made our way through the crowd. Flynn followed at a distance, as usual. I glanced back at him, his dark head visible in the crowd. All of Jesse’s security guys were tall; now I could see why.
Curious, I leaned into Maggie conspiratorially. “Hey. Can we give him the slip?”
“No,” Maggie said, and leveled me with a no-bullshit look. “And you’re not gonna try.”
The crowd had thickened to near-impassable, and suddenly everyone was in a mad rush, heading back inside the arena bowl. I could hear Jesse’s voice; he was talking on stage, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I was trying not to get sucked into the stampede, and pretty much flattened myself against the wall. I tried to avoid eye contact with the people passing us by. Was that an effective way to avoid being recognized?
Just how famous was I by now?
Maggie laughed, pulling me toward a set of stairs that led under the arena, blocked off with a chain rope. We went over the rope, Flynn close behind. I heard the band rip intoDirty Like Me. The crowd hit a new level of off-the-hook, and I just hoped we’d get our asses backstage before the show let out.
Down the stairs was the same as up, with less people milling about. The music was even more muffled but I could still make out the slow, grinding thump ofDirty Like Me. I really would’ve liked to see Jesse play this song, but Maggie had run into Jude and was chatting with him. I wandered over to a big double door with a security guy sitting in front of it; every time it opened the music swelled. I listened to Jesse’s voice, getting swept up in the song.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
I turned. A couple of roadies in crew shirts had approached and stood staring at me. The guy in front had a big grin on his face. The other one, who looked pretty shifty, peered at me over his buddy’s shoulder, a cap with a worn old Slayer patch pulled low on his head.
“Hey,” I said.
“You wanna blow my friend, I’ll get you backstage.”
Um… right.
Before I could respond to that generous offer, a shadow fell over us and the guy’s eyes went wide. I turned to find Jude standing over me, Maggie at his heels.
“Come on, Katie.” Maggie reached around Jude, grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the double door. When I glanced back, Flynn and Jude were talking to the roadies. The security guy opened the door for us and Maggie whisked me through. “Don’t wander off like that, ’kay? And put this on.” She handed me a backstage pass like the one she was now wearing.
“Why’s everyone all twitchy about me being alone?” I asked as I followed her backstage, but my heart was still pounding. The frenzy of the thunderous crowd, which was going berserk in the aftermath of Jesse’s head-spinning, heart-stopping version ofDirty Like Me, wasn’t helping. “It’s freaking me out.”
We stopped at the back of the side stage area, just out of the way as the guys started coming off stage; I saw Pepper toss his drum sticks into the crowd.
“I guess it’s hard to understand the level of madness that comes along with fame until you’ve experienced it,” Maggie said. “Crazy shit happens at rock shows.”
“Uh-huh. Like some dude asking me to blow his friend.”
“What dude?”
I whirled around. Jesse, all dripping with sweat and stage lust, swept me up in his arms, holding me against him so tight I felt the thunder of his pulse pounding through his body and his semi against my groin. Evidently, hedidget horny on stage.
He kissed me, long and hard, until my knees almost gave out. He tasted like the salt of sweat. When he relaxed his hold on me enough that I could look into his eyes, they were narrowed. “What dude?”
“Um, one of your roadies asked me for a blow job?” I didn’t know why it came out like a question except that my head was still spinning from that kiss.
“What roadie?” He did not look amused. Though that kind of thing must’ve happened all the time in his world. It was fucking weird to me, but as this day had made even clearer to me, I wasn’t from Jesse’s world.
