My heart stampeded.
It was Leif. It was Leif.
The lights flashed again, dimming before springing to life in a bright ray of yellow to reveal Rhys taking his spot. He threw a fist in the air to a round of hoots and hollers and stamping feet.
Another strobe, this one red, and Richard was there, strapping his guitar over his shoulder.
A riot of voices lifted into the dense, heated air.
Blackness spread out over the mass.
A beat.
A breath.
Hushed anticipation.
A moment later, a strobe streaked through the mote-laden air, lighting Emily where she stood at the mic.
She curled her hand around the stand and leaned in. The drumbeat rose in a slow, ascending beat just as the bass began to thrum.
Richard moved forward and began to strum a melodic, mesmerizing chord.
Then Emily leaned in and she started to sing.
I thought the entire crowd was going to lose their minds.
Leif hadn’t been exaggerating.
Emily’s voice had to be one of the most unforgettable things that I would ever hear.
A silky, whiskey-laden lullaby.
Enthralling.
Spellbinding.
Their sound was so different than I’d expected.
This mesh of country and rock that whispered of seduction and rang with inspiration.
Lyrics riddled with pain and faith and family.
My body swayed and the music played and my broken heart raced out ahead to the beat of the drums.
Lifted.
Risen.
Taken.
Giving myself over to the rush of emotion, moisture gathered in my eyes, and I tipped my head back to the soaring ceiling where the strains and the melody danced. Vapors of ghosts and whispers of angels that swirled in the abyss that lifted above.
Shimmers of light that shined through the vast, endless black.
My eyes peeled open, drawn, following the tether I could feel stretching me thin until I was looking at the man who was watching me through the blinding flashes of light.
Like I was the only thing he could see.
It was Leif. It was Leif.
My falling star.
And I knew right then I would chase him down to eternity.
Twenty-Seven
Leif
I let loose on the drums as the last song of the encore came to an end.
The song upbeat and fast.
Every person in the place was on their feet. Shouts riding through the hazy, stagnant air of the dank theater as they yelled and whistled and clapped.
Emily held the last note of the song. The miniscule girl a powerhouse.
People losing their damned minds over the performance.
It felt good.
Fuck, it felt good, being up there in the one place where I found joy.
The one bit of me that remained.
My eyes traveled, finding her in the mix of the rowdy bodies, the girl gazing back at me.
In awe.
Anxiety tightened my chest, all mixed up with the lust and greed that I felt at seeing her standing there watching me like I could be more than I was.
Our eyes tangled.
And I felt the spark.
The spark of something new and terrifying. Something that shouldn’t be there.
But it was pushing up. Sprouting and taking root.
A new kind of joy.
I’d do best to pluck it out before it had the chance to grow.
But instead I was standing from behind my drum set, lifting the sticks in the air while the lights flashed at a raging beat and fans stamped their feet and screamed their approval.
Begging for one more song.
Emily glided over to the edge of the stage, and she reached down to graze her fingertips across the hands that were stretched her direction, begging to get closer.
Smiling, Richard tossed his pick out into the crowd.
Mayhem ensued, a sudden barrage of movement as arms flailed and bodies tumbled as they fought to be the one to catch that tiny treasure.
But it was Rhys ripping off his sweaty shirt the way he did after each show that had every damned girl in the place losing control. Putty in his hands.
All except for my girl.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
The chant of the claim echoed in my mind, and I attempted to beat it back. Contain the assault that blistered through me when I watched the gorgeous girl stand firm in the middle of the pandemonium.
Sable eyes on me. The long locks of her black hair curled in soft waves, bigger than she normally wore it, make up done up thicker. Her lashes full and her lips fuller.
Girl looking like she’d just hit the runway or stepped off a stage herself.
Sexy as fuck.
Striking.
Gorgeous to the extreme.
“Thank you for coming out to see us tonight, Savannah!” Emily shouted into the mic, lifting her hand and waving. “We love you.”
Another round of screams and shouts and stomps of feet.
“Stay awesome, Savannah,” Richard issued into his mic before he pulled the strap of his guitar over his head and set it onto the stand, waving as he strode off the stage.
Rhys twirled his soaking shirt over his head and sent it sailing into the crowd, his tattooed chest and abs gleaming with sweat and causing the entire population of Savannah to drop to their knees.
Every single one of my bandmates commanded the stage.
Their talent overwhelming. But this business didn’t merely require talent. It took charisma. Connecting with souls from on the stage like they were standing right there with you.
A rumble of ferocity burned deep inside.
I wanted it for them. Wanted it badly.
Problem was, I wasn’t sure if I could remain. If I could stay and be a part of it without destroying their chance before they got started.
Everything was becoming blurred.
Distorted.
Everything except for the girl who was waiting at the foot of the stage.
All around her, people laughed and chugged beers and lingered for the coveted chance of getting an invite backstage, but she just stood there, watching me with those eyes that were doing crazy things to me.
I edged that way.
Severity crashed.
A lightning bolt that struck in the middle of us.
Shivers of it racing far and wide.
A crackle in the air.
A smirk ticked up at the corner of her sweet, sweet mouth that was painted in that lust-inducing red when she saw me moving her direction.
About fifty other chicks noticed, too, like they thought I was coming for them.
Not a chance.
I had one destination.
One mind.
I was moving for her when some fucker decided to take note of her, too. Not that you could miss the prettiest girl in the place.
Fact of it didn’t give him a free pass.
Not when he moved in, whispering in her ear, country boy all dimples and charm and Georgia grins.
My heart hammered. Ribs squeezing tight.
Shit.
This was getting bad.
Goals out of sight.
Mia gave him a polite smile and a slight shake of her head, trying to dodge the advances she didn’t want.
Asshole couldn’t take a hint.
He took her by the arm like he had the right to touch on the beauty that was driving me out of my mind.
Without giving it a thought, I slid off the front of the stage. The crowd pulsed around me.
A living ring of bodies that pressed and contended to get closer.
I shoved through them. Needing to get to her. To squelch the derangement that was clouding my mind.
Didn’t even give a shit that they were undoubtedly taking pictures.
Watching this go down.
Mine.
&nb
sp; Mine.
Mine.
Fuck. Wanted to scream. Guilt billowed from the depths. This betrayal that was becoming my greatest sin. But I couldn’t stop the possession that rose like a storm.
Dark and black and foreboding.
Prick tugged at her and tried to bury his face in her hair.
Bad call, motherfucker.
I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.
Pussy nothing but a runt.
He started to whirl on me. No doubt, he was getting ready to throw blows.
If only I’d get so lucky.
Maybe it would take off some of the edge.
His punk eyes went wide when he saw he was about to get his ass beat by the guy in the back. “You . . . you’re the drummer? Right?”
Everyone was staring like they’d just witnessed a fifteen-car pileup on the interstate.
Didn’t give a shit.
Only thing I cared about was this girl who was looking at me in shock and surprise.
“Leif,” she murmured in a bid to get my attention.
“That’s right,” I told him, unable to staunch the jealousy that spread through my being. The thought of someone else touching her. Loving her. Couldn’t tolerate the image.
The thought or the assured possibility.
“Think you should probably head out, yeah?” I warned.
My gaze narrowed and my fingers twitched. Wanted to smash in his face for having the audacity to look at her. For even thinking about her.
Which was fucked up on so many levels.
He put both hands up, one with a beer dangling from his fingers. “Whoa, dude. Think we have some kind of misuderstandin’, here. Meant no harm or disrespect. Didn’t know this was your girl.”
He backed away.
I stalked forward, same way as he’d done Mia.
“Yeah, well, I think my girl was making it plenty clear she wasn’t interested, whether if she was with me or not.”
He chuckled an anxious sound, attention darting over his shoulder like he was getting ready to bolt.
A hand landed on my arm.
Soft and sure and right. “I think he was just leaving, weren’t you?” she prodded. Mia’s voice wrapped around me.
A balm and a match.
Consolation and gasoline.
The guy’s attention swung between the two of us. “Sorry. Seriously. We’re cool, man. We’re cool.”
We so were not cool because I was burning the fuck up.
Losing it.
The collected focus I’d possessed for the last three years obliterated in a breath.
Her breath.
Her hand squeezed my arm, and she peered up at me through the drizzle of light that poured through the theater. Worry in her eyes and mischief twitching across those lips.
Something new rippled in the space between us.
Understanding.
Girl getting me on a level that no one else could.
Like maybe she could see through the grief and the pain.
My chest tightened.
No.
Not through it.
Like she was willing to wade through the middle of it with me.
“Hey, there, Drummer Dude,” she said softly, grinning when she uttered the nickname Brendon had given me, all the kids taking suit considering there was no denying he was the alpha of the pack.
I heaved out a strained breath.
She grinned wider. Seduction and sweet. “Nothing like a little overreaction. Don’t tell me you’re jealous?” she teased, the mood a thousand miles from where we’d been yesterday.
A grunt of possession rippled through me, and I angled her way, erasing the space.
Body against hers.
Relief. Relief.
“He touched you,” I grumbled.
A slight, disbelieving giggle rippled free. Laced with a deadly dose of temptation. “And I’d just told him to get lost. That I wasn’t interested.”
She hiked up on her toes and placed that mouth next to my ear. “That I was taken.”
A growl ripped up my throat and my arm was around her back and the fingers of my other hand were diving into the long locks of that black, black hair.
The girl wicked.
The girl pure.
The girl everything.
My mouth came down hard, devouring her lips the way she was devouring my soul. Kissing her mad. Relentlessly.
Right there in the middle of the crowd.
Could feel the laughter and the need rolling up her throat, a gush of lust that I swallowed down right as her hands were fisting in my shirt.
Flash. Flash. Flash.
A slew of cameras went off.
Shit.
We definitely didn’t need this kind of audience.
A smirk hitched at the corner of my mouth as I tore myself away. I grabbed her hand while she stood there panting.
Shocked and turned on and the best fucking thing I’d ever seen.
“Come on.”
I started to drag her through the mass.
“Where are we going?” she rasped from behind.
“Where I can get you alone.”
People ducked out of the way as I pushed through. A few of them called my name, asking for an autograph or a picture. “Not tonight.”
Like I had time for that.
One minute lost was one I wouldn’t get to spend with her.
I knew the brutal truth of that.
I just needed to get her alone. Hold her and touch her and get lost in the perfect torture of her body.
I hauled ass for one of the side doors that led backstage, taking the one that led opposite of where I knew the rest of the band would have landed themselves.
There for the fans who’d purchased VIP tickets.
Interviews and all that bullshit required when you were trying to establish your celebrity.
Tonight, there was only one person that mattered to me. One person who I wanted to win over.
My spirit thrashed at the thought, but I just let it feed me, the frenzy that had taken over as I climbed the steps to the side door. The bouncer gave me a quick nod as he opened it and let us through, and Mia’s excited laughter was racing down the hall ahead of us like it’d already discovered our destination as I dragged her through the darkened corridors in the deepest recesses of the building.
Tossing open doors, looking for a proper place.
Lights and motherfucking privacy.
I banged open a door to a storage room. “Not enough room for what I plan on doing to you,” I grumbled, and she was laughing more as I continued our search.
A coat room.
Production equipment room.
Cleaning supply room.
I tossed open the next door. It knocked against the interior wall, revealing a deserted dressing room.
Hell fuckin’ yes.
There was a long dressing table, three chairs in front of it, the mirror framed in lights. Racks with abandoned costumes lined the walls, wigs hanging from hooks, makeup and hair shit all over the place.
I yanked her inside and kicked the door shut.
“Leif.” My name coasted from her tongue, all mixed up with a throaty roll of laughter. In two seconds, I had her pinned against the wall, hands riding down the soft curve of her hips and tucking her against my dick.
She moaned and giggled, opening to the demand of my kiss.
A groan warbled low in my throat. “You taste like a celebration, baby.”
Sex and confetti and champagne.
Fingertips dug into my shoulders. “You taste like poison and possibility.”
I was hypnotized.
Lustdrunk.
Lovestruck.
Didn’t fuckin’ know.
I just hoisted her up and exhaled in relief when she wrapped those legs around my waist.
Kissing her wild, I carried her across the dressing room. She yelped in surprise when I lifted her high, setting her onto her feet on the dressing table. Girl wore th
ese sky-high boots and fitted jeans and a jacket that was leaving far too many things to the imagination.
To keep her balance, her hands shot up to grab the rail that supported a row of lights that hung from the rafters while I held onto her hips, staring up at her as she looked down at me.
Girl in a spotlight.
Right where she belonged.
Her cheeks high and carved, eyes sharp, rimmed in the darkest black. Lids dusted in some shimmery shit that made her look every bit the angel that I knew she was.
Lips plush and painted red.
A decadent bow that the devil wanted to rip to shreds.
“What are you doing?” she whispered as I let her go and eased myself back onto a chair in front of her.
“Wanna watch you.”
Uninhibited.
Not the secret, covert glances I’d been stealing for the last month.
For tonight, I wanted her to be mine.
No question.
No reservations.
A nervous, sexy giggle slipped from her mouth, her hips swaying a bit as she held onto the railing above. “And what is it you want to see?”
“You . . . wanna see you dance for me. Shine for me. Strip for me.” Last came out a needy command.
A shiver rolled through her, head to toe.
“I . . . I’m not . . .”
“Best thing I’ve ever seen, Mia West. Every time I look at you, you steal the breath right outta me. Captured me the second I saw you. You have any idea? Any idea what the fuck you’ve done to me?”
She heaved out a whimper. Sable eyes flashed her own desire. Her own confusion and hopes and the things she shouldn’t be seeing when she looked at me.
Seemed we were the same.
Hunting down what was only going to hurt us.
Threads of music seeped through the walls, floors vibrating with the heavy bass that rumbled and shook as the club came to life for the afterparty that followed every show.
One of the things that made this place so popular.
But it was Mia West who was going to make me never forget it.
She warred, then bit down on her bottom lip.
Her gaze tangled with mine.
Searching to see if she could trust me.
She shouldn’t.
But I wanted her to.
Fuck, I wanted her to.
Inhaling a steadying breath, she released her hands from the railing.
Kiss the Stars Page 25
