by Lee Piper
“Nope.”
“But you don’t like them.”
“Got it in one.”
Suck on that.
“Um, G—” Riley began. But Levi cut her off with a quick wave of his hand.
“How would you know if you’ve never heard them play?” He smiled and leaned forward in his chair. “I bet when you see their lead singer up on stage, you’ll want him to fuck you straight after the show.”
I shifted in my seat, at once shamefully aware of my clenched thighs, yet unbelievably annoyed at the direction this conversation was heading. I didn’t get dragged away from my favorite book to be set up as a fool by some conceited, rock-loving aficionado, sex god or not.
So, I pointedly looked from him to the lead vocalist currently on stage. The performer was looking and sounding remarkably similar to a donkey in heat, and I should know because I saw a documentary on them once. Freakin’ hilarious. My eyes once again met Levi’s and I flatly stated, “Let’s just say I don’t have high hopes if this lead singer is anything to go by.”
Levi’s gaze never left my face and his lips quirked up even higher, clearly enjoying some personal joke that I neither knew or cared about.
Okay. This was getting old and very, very annoying.
“Not every band is the same, kitten,” he began.
I saw red.
“Don’t fucking patronize me, Levi,” I spat. “I know not every band is the same. I would just rather be at home doing what I want on a Friday night. In fact, I’d rather be doing anything else right now. So no, being forced to listen to some egotistical narcissist with a hard-on for the groupies in the front row is not at the top of my bucket list, okay?” I was almost panting with rage by the time I’d finished my tirade and had to take a long drink to calm down.
Crazy Grace needed to get back into her straight jacket.
Pronto.
Levi’s eyes widened and his smile wavered slightly. But then he schooled his features and they turned into something different entirely. Dark, dangerous, sexy as hell. “That’s quite a mouth you’ve got there, kitten.”
Well. Maybe now he would leave me the hell alone and go torment some other sexually frustrated female. To my right, Riley held her head in her hands and I instantly wished those words back. However, before I could apologize to her, Levi leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. He lowered his voice and murmured, “I like it.”
I narrowed my eyes and was about to tell him where he could shove his uninvited innuendo, when I remembered Riley. I looked across at her. Jesus Christ, I’d done it again. I really should trade in my Biggest Bitch Ever nomination for a Worst Best Friend of All Time award. I shifted closer to Riley’s bent frame and hesitantly placed my hand on her back. “I’m so sorry—”
“C’mon, dickwad, we’re on in five,” boomed a loud voice directly in front of our booth. Riley and I instinctively looked up at the sound and I swore I heard a sharp intake of her breath. Standing at our table was a carbon copy of Levi. My eyes quickly moved from one to the other, making sure in my overly aroused state I wasn’t seeing a mirage. Nope, he was real all right. Though on closer inspection, this new version was slightly shorter and if it was at all possible, stronger. My eyes flicked back to the original, confusion written all over my face.
“No worries, Dom.” Levi’s bottomless eyes never left mine. “Think I’m done here anyway.” He tipped his head back and swallowed the rest of his beer before gracefully standing up. How a man of that height wasn’t all awkward limbs and movements I’d never know. Giraffes would hide their head in shame. Levi placed the bottle on the table and smiled at Riley before turning to leave.
It wasn’t until the two of them sauntered off in the general direction of the stage, at least a foot taller and half a person wider than everyone they passed, that I realized I had been holding my breath too. It escaped from my chest with a hiss and I was left feeling oddly deflated.
Shaking the sensation off, I turned to my best friend. She was currently hurting because of me and I felt awful. “Riley, I’m so sorry.” My eyes were beseeching and my hand rubbed the small of her back, trying to soothe away the angst I caused her.
Again.
“I knew he was baiting me and I should have just left it. I’m a horrible, horrible friend. Please say you’ll forgive me. I hate upsetting you.”
She turned to face me, blue eyes serious. “Just once, once, G, I would like you not to insult someone I’d just introduced you to.”
I nodded my head, emphatically agreeing with her. In all honesty, I hated the person I’d become. But it was like I couldn’t turn my damn Bitch O’ Meter off. If I knew where that pesky button was located, believe me, I would have used it.
My eyes clouded over and I looked down at my lap, blinking vigorously. I wasn’t going to cry. I was not. Especially with the final sounds of an equine mating ritual in the background, courtesy of the vocalist still on stage. It was simply too ridiculous.
“Oh, G,” Riley put her arm around me and squeezed tightly, “let’s just both forget about it, okay? I know you have … issues. I know you can’t always help being a complete cow to … well, anyone with a pulse really. But especially sexy guys.”
I snorted.
“Come on,” she chided playfully, “even you can’t deny the fact that he’s smokin’ hot.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “The whole Spanish Inquisition wasn’t exactly a turn-on, Riley,” I lied.
“No, I meant—” But her next words were drowned out because it was as if we were both body-slammed with a wall of sound.
Boom.
I had to shut my eyes in an attempt to take it all in. Whoa. The tight drums and dirty guitar riffs ricocheted off the walls and surrounded me with an all-encompassing sensation of sound.
I think my soul just wept.
Yes. This is what I need to hear, to feel, to help keep the anger at bay.
And then the vocals started.
I shuddered, and was pretty sure my panties went up in a ball of flames. It was as if the voice, which was simultaneously guttural yet beautiful, resonated with a secret need buried somewhere deep inside me. So deep, I didn’t even know it existed until now. I opened my eyes, desperately searching for the stage. I needed to see the man responsible for this epiphany. And there he was.
Levi.
Fuck me. He was glorious.
I stopped breathing. It was overrated anyway. And after my verbal spat not ten minutes ago at the man currently servicing me with an aural orgasm, dying of shame suddenly felt like a viable option.
“Let’s move closer.” Riley dragged my dazed ass out of the booth and towards the stage where everyone in the place, excluding the bar staff, had migrated. We stood just behind the mosh pit, thankfully out of harm’s way from flailing limbs and random head-butts, though still had an awesome view of the phenomenon currently on stage.
For the next hour, I stood as though in a trance. Levi’s vocal range was out of this world. At times he was melodic and sweet, while at others he unleashed a verbal attack on my eardrums. Oh, and he played guitar. Holy mother of God, the combination was such a turn on. Hell, I bet if I handed him a sudoku right now, he’d have it done by the end of the chorus. He was that damn good.
I couldn’t get enough of it.
Or of him.
His band consisted of Dom playing lead guitar, a stocky tattooed guy with an eyebrow ring on bass, and a mass of long brown hair with thrashing arms covered in ink worked the drums. All of them were equally talented. Freaks of nature, really. I mean, the music they created, a sensory smorgasbord of delectable individual parts, was a true credit to their distinctive abilities. Yet, when my eyes sought Levi again—and they always did—I felt lost and found in that same instant.
This wasn’t good.
Chapter Two
It’s my adversary,
I won’t let it be,
‘Cos this life’s just ordinary.
-MONDEZ, “Nemesis”
The
final bars of Mondez’s closing song slowly faded into nothingness. There was complete and utter silence throughout The Hole for at least a minute. It was surreal. Guess I wasn’t the only one struggling to come down from that experience after all.
And then it began.
The noise spread slowly at first, through the diehards in the front row, where it gradually gained momentum via the disheveled fans in the mosh pit, and finally reached a resounding peak when it hit us in the ‘standing room only’ section at the back. There was a deafening roar of screams, applause, whistles, stomping feet and, “Fuck yeahs”. Despite the cacophony of blatant admiration generated by the crowd completely losing their minds, it just didn’t seem enough to me. It almost felt like a token gesture, rather than what Mondez really deserved. But to be honest, even if the Rod Laver Arena was full to the brim with frenzied devotees shrieking earsplitting accolades, I still don’t think that would have cut it either.
The band must have thought it was ample praise, however, because they self-consciously waved to the crowd. It seemed as though the experience of people enjoying their music was still new to them. It was kinda cute really. And, similar to a porcelain unicorn figurine being received as Christmas gift, they didn’t quite know what to do with it. But, once their equipment was righted and safely stored in the greenroom just off stage, they slowly made their way through the crowd, being fist bumped and shoulder slapped by the guys and ravenously felt up by the girls. Bitches. Who did they think they were? Surely a handshake was ample acknowledgment of a job well done. Or even a nod in the band’s general direction. Yeah, that would be way more appropriate.
Brea suddenly popped up next to Riley, interrupting my inner rant. She’d just finished her shift and was now officially ready to party. “Weren’t they amazing?” Her dark eyes danced and she clapped her hands together in barely contained excitement. “They make me wild every damn time. What did you think, Riley?”
Riley shook her head. I don’t think the power of speech or logical thought had returned to her just yet. It wouldn’t be long though, and she’d be back to her usual communicative self. Of that, I was certain.
Brea continued, “They’re gonna be huge one of these days and then watch out everyone, they’ll take over.”
The aforementioned conquerors of the world were making their way towards us, probably because we were standing in between them and the bar. Regardless, I stood like a deer in headlights, with eyes as big as saucepans, unable to move a muscle and absolutely terrified because of it. What I was scared of exactly, I couldn’t say. The aftereffects of my embarrassing tongue-lashing towards Levi before the set perhaps? Or was it my panty-exploding epiphany during? It was hard to tell.
I was so fucking confused.
So I made the same decision that any other self-respecting woman would in this situation. I was going to hightail it the hell out of there and hide in the bathroom for a good twenty minutes. Okay, maybe thirty-five. Forty minutes, tops.
“Riley, you’ll be all right with Brea if I go grab some air outside, won’t you?” I asked, before attempting to head in the opposite direction and giving the current track world record a red-hot go.
Before I could begin my athletic campaign though, Brea threw her tattooed arm around Riley. Because of their height difference, it landed somewhere in Riley’s midsection, but the gesture of sisterly solidarity was duly noted and appreciated. “You betcha she will, won’t you, lovely?” Brea turned to Riley. “In fact, you’re looking mighty thirsty there, girl. Let’s go get us some drinks, on the house of course. God, I love my job.” And with surprising strength for someone so little, she dragged Riley away without a backward glance. Brea was like a barely contained wildfire, she engulfed those around her in a ball of pure energy. That much vitality in pint-sized form was simply too exhausting to watch.
I turned and ran.
Once safely inside the confines of the toilet cubicle—thankfully clean—I took a deep, steadying breath. And then unleashed Teacher Grace on my ass as though I was a Year Nine student with behavioral issues. My inner dialogue went something like this:
“Right, Grace, here’s what you’re going to do. One: you are going to chill the fuck out, especially when it comes to biting the ridiculously sexy heads off certain band members.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled under my breath to my inner lecturer, pretending not to be completely petrified. “After tonight I’ll probably never see him again anyway.” Well, unless Riley managed to get his number. In which case, I would be in serious trouble because the thought of him with her, or any other woman for that matter, made my insides clench to the point of agony.
Teacher Grace snapped her fictitious fingers in front of my face, and my errant thoughts immediately stilled. She was a real badass. “Two,” she said, while still glaring at me, “stop lusting after the guy your best friend likes.”
“Shit,” I muttered angrily. It didn’t matter how much Levi affected me, either on or off the stage. It didn’t matter that since first meeting him, I had experienced a whirlwind of emotions completely foreign to me since Dylan left. Or during the twelve months we were together.
I simply would not hurt anyone like that.
“After all,” Teacher Grace continued, her eyes narrowing, “there was one person and one person only who stood by you through a very dark time, remember? She cooked your meals to make sure you still ate. She marked your essay drafts so you’d be up to date with your programming. She even bought you endless boxes of tissues, and not the inexpensive kind either. They were the ones with aloe vera in them so your skin wouldn’t chafe.”
“Riley,” I breathed.
“Exactly. Which brings me to point number three. Prioritize your friendship with that woman over your shrieking girly bits.”
I slowly nodded my head as realization finally hit home. I knew what I had to do. Teacher Grace made a hell of a lot of sense despite being a complete ball breaker. Thankfully, she disappeared after her verbal reprimand and before I was diagnosed with multiple personality disorder.
Okay. I could do this. I was a strong, independent young woman who had complete control over my emotions, actions and Smart Mouth from here on in.
Yay me.
I slowly unlocked the cubicle door. Mercifully, the poster-clad bathroom was devoid of gossiping girls applying eye makeup even heavier than necessary, so I made my way over to the mirror. Intense green eyes, which looked far too big for the heart-shaped face and freckled nose, stared back at me. The usually pale skin was flushed about the cheeks and the black hair, which had long since given up on adhering to any fashionable style, hung in loose waves to her shoulders.
She looked completely overwhelmed.
I quickly washed my hands and face, trying to find some semblance of normality in doing such a mundane task, and felt slightly calmer. Once finished, I looked at the girl in the mirror again and attempted a smile. “You’ve got this,” I said out loud. The unexpected noise echoed in the dark room, amplifying the emptiness of the space. With newfound resolve courtesy of Teacher Grace, I pushed my shoulders back, tipped my chin up and strode towards the exit.
It didn’t take long to locate Riley again. She was in the same booth as before, sandwiched between Dom and Brea and they were all laughing hysterically at something on her phone. Riley looked drunk and I marveled at the vast array of shot glasses in front of them. For a moment, I began to wonder where the other band members were, but then stopped myself short. Surely being faced with just one of them was more than enough for my frayed temper right now. I sighed. Great, it looked like I was designated driver then. This night was just getting better and better. Now how was I supposed to ignore my screaming hormones and maintain silence on all things frustrating, when I couldn’t even drown in the blessed relief of a drunken stupor?
Head down and feeling mighty sorry for myself, I turned and walked towards the bar. Riley was going to need a liter of water if I had any chance of moving her from that booth to the
passenger seat of her car. Which was why I didn’t notice Levi until I literally walked into him, spilling the jug of water he held in his hands. It dripped all down the front of his t-shirt, completely saturating him. Shit fuck shit. I looked up at him, my mouth a perfect O.
“Guess I’ll be needing another pitcher then.” He looked somewhat annoyed at my clumsiness.
“Here…” I grabbed a pile of napkins off a table nearby. The people sitting there were smirking behind their light beers and I bit my tongue to hold back what I really thought of their pathetic choice in alcoholic beverages. Amateurs. After turning back to Levi, I proceeded to pat him dry, my tongue poking out the corner of my mouth. It was a habit I’d developed in primary school which reared its ugly head whenever I concentrated ridiculously hard on something. Embarrassingly, I hadn’t yet managed to break it.
My hands surreptitiously moved over his well-formed pecs. Honestly, the man was soaked.
“Um, Grace?”
And down over his tightly sculptured abs. Poor guy, he was completely drenched.
“Grace.”
Until I reached the hallowed V that led tantalizingly downwards to the top button of his black jeans. I mean, I didn’t want the guy to catch a cold after all.
“Grace.” Levi placed his fingers under my chin, which gave me yet another electric shock, but this time in the nether regions. I almost groaned out loud on the spot. He lifted my face to meet his hooded expression. “If you’re going any lower, kitten, we’re gonna need a private room.” There was a wicked glint in his eyes.
I stepped back, horrified at my actions. God, I was no better than one of his female fans giving him a congratulatory groping session after the show. Bad hands, I scolded myself. Bad, bad, hands. What were you thinking? Guess that was the problem really. Where Levi was concerned, I wasn’t.
Stifled laughter erupted from the nearby table and it took all of my newfound self-control not to grab the now empty jug out of Levi’s hands and hurl it at their heads. My face flushed. Soon I’d be a walking stoplight. Hell, I’d already managed to halt traffic.
