Wicked Indulgence (Wicked Innocence 2)

When I sing the last line, the crowd goes wild. It’s the biggest rush I’ve ever felt, and right then I know this is going to be my life. Nothing compares to this. I wave to the crowd, glancing off to the side of the stage, where I catch Lyndall’s eye. She gives me a thumbs up, a big smile on her face. I grin back, her enthusiasm sending shivers through my body.

We run through a few more songs from our playlist before our time is up. The more time I spend on that stage, the more at home I feel. After our final set, we run off the stage to where Lyndall and Gemma are waiting.

“You guys rocked it,” Lyndall murmurs, her eyes firmly on me. “They loved you out there.”

“Yep, I guarantee that 99 percent of that crowd is going home with damp panties,” Max chuckles.

Lyndall shoots him a look, but Gemma laughs, earning her a glare from Lyndall.

“What?” she protests, tossing her auburn hair over her shoulder. “He’s funny.”

Lyndall shakes her head and mutters something under her breath. “Anyway, we better get to this party.” She nods at the guys. “You guys go with Gemma, and I’ll take Sax in my car.”

The guys are too wired about the party to make any snide comments about me going with her. We walk outside and are greeted with a crowd of screaming teenage girls.

Leo lets out a laugh as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Well shit,” he mutters. “We have fans, guys.”

“Go over and interact,” Lyndall urges us. “It’s great to be seen as stars who take the time to do that.”

We swagger over and the screaming gets louder. Laughing, I throw a look at Max, who looks like he’s just stumbled across a room full of candy.

“Remember, dude, they’re underage,” I tease. “She said interact, not sleep with.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t look,” he scoffs.

“Actually,” I laugh, slapping him on the back, “I’m pretty sure it does.”

We spend the next fifteen minutes signing autographs and posing for photos until Lyndall drags us away. The guys head over to the van with Gemma, and I follow Lyndall.

“Weird experience?” she asks, a smirk on her lips.

I nod. “We’ve been approached by fans before, but never so many at once,” I laugh. “And I’m guessing you’re about to tell me that’s nothing?”

“Right,” she nods with a grin. “It will only get bigger from here, Sax.”

I slide into the passenger seat of her Mercedes C63. She gets in beside me, and my eyes go to her milky white thighs, which are exposed as her skirt of her dress rides up. She narrows her eyes at me, a faint smile on her lips. I look away, chuckling, and stare out the window.

“So, how are you coping with everything?” she asks.

I shrug, surprised by the question. “Fine, I think.” Is she suggesting that I’m not coping? Anxieties begin to creep in as I try to deconstruct what she’s saying. “This is what I want to do, and I’m excited to have this shot.”

“Just keep things in perspective—that’s the biggest piece of advice I can give you. Being famous will be one of the most terrifying and exciting rides of your life. Ho

w you come down from that high is up to you.”

“Why are you telling me this and not the others?” I ask.

“Because you’re the backbone of this band,” she states, her tone matter of fact. “Without your killer vocals and sexy look, this band wouldn’t do nearly as well.”

Sexy look? I smile.

“You’re hard to work out and people are going to make their own observations about that. Make it work in your favor. Always make it work in your favor,” she repeats. “You should also think about going solo.”

“As in leave the band?” I chuckle. “No fucking way.”

“Why not?” she pushes. “You could go so much further on your own. I’m just saying don’t rule it out.”

I think about what she’s saying and it makes sense. How all this ends is up to me. What I need to do is ride the ride and know when to get off. I need to keep my head straight and not get dragged into all the shit that so many stars before me have.