The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men 7)

It clanged against the hollow floor of the stage with a resounding echo that caused all my bandmates to look my way...as well as about half the crowd watching us.

Scrambling to retrieve my fallen stick, I straightened so fast blood rushed to my head and made me instantly dizzy. But I sent out a rueful grin and waved both sticks above me to let everyone know I was good. Everything was just fine back here. No reason at all to gape at me like I was an idiot.

Asher turned back to the microphone. “Guess that was my cue to introduce the newest member of our band. Everyone, please give Sticks, the best damn drummer you’ll ever hear, a little bit of encouragement, will you?” Cupping his hand to his mouth, he added more quietly, “This is his first time, so go gentle on him, please.”

Some people laughed, more cheered, but boy, did the room encourage me. All lit up inside, I waved my sticks above my head in greeting, then clicked them four times together to set the beat of the song, and boom...we were playing a cover for one of my favorite OneRepublic songs. Live. In front of people. It took a whole verse before I actually got to play, but when my intro came, I nailed it.

It was...

Awesome.

My dream was coming true. I couldn’t stop grinning, couldn’t stop feeling the rush, couldn’t stop playing. Once the song ended, I just kept going, moving straight into the song, “Ceilings.”

Asher glanced back at me in surprise. Then he rolled his eyes, as if to say he should’ve known, and grinned before turning back for his first line. His voice hit me hard, and seemed to vibrate through my bones, echoing along my spine and shivering out the ends my toes.

It was pure nirvana. My heaven.

I didn’t even realize how many songs or how much time had passed until Asher said we were going to take a quick break. That’s when it suddenly hit me how soaked I was inside my clothes and mask from the sweat that came because of all the heat pouring down from the overhead lights. Then I stood, and my legs and back gave a scream of protest due to sitting for so long.

Working my shoulders and kicking out my legs a time or two, I followed the other three, jumping off the side of the stage and into the crowd. There was no “backstage” so we were instantly swamped, most everyone gathering around Asher to get their hands on him.

A man in a black Forbidden shirt appeared—the same hottie who’d rescued me from Grim, the dick doorman, and fetched Asher to let me in. He helped free Asher from the clingers and then paved a path for us to get to the back hall, where he and Asher led us to a back room with a couch, some lockers, and a small kitchenette.

“Thanks, Quinn,” Asher told the gorgeous giant as he swiped the back of his forearm over the sweat glistening on his brow. “You’re a life saver.”

Quinn’s smile was adorable: sexy, shy and sweet all rolled into one. “No problem. I better get back to the bar, though. You really drew a crowd tonight.”

As Asher waved him off, Quinn began to retreat, only to feel my eyes on him or something, because he glanced my way.

He sent me a small wave of acknowledgement and said, “Good job. You guys sounded great.”

As he disappeared out the door, I stared after the spot he’d been and tried not to sigh. I liked Quinn. There was just something in his aura that made me feel...nice. And safe. Plus he was just so easy to stare at.

That’s when Galloway slapped me in the arm. “Dude, did you catch the redhead who flashed us her tits? The one in the tight, yellow top with cleavage down to her belly button. She was screaming your name.”

I blinked at him, clueless. “Huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. You don’t do chicks. What a waste.” He turned to Holden, who was wiping at the pit stains on his shirt, directly under his arms. “Holden, you saw her, didn’t you? I am so fucking that bitch tonight.”

I groaned in disapproval and sought Asher with my gaze. Not sure why, I just always found myself looking at him when he was around. He wasn’t big and classically pretty like his co-bartender Quinn, but checking out his lean frame and deeply angled face caused the same stir in me. Except I didn’t feel at all safe when my eyes were on him. I felt...I don’t know...challenged, a little breathless, exhilarated, as if I were standing on the edge of a cliff and could already feel the rush burn through my blood before I even jumped.

Ignoring all of us, he leaned down to open a miniature refrigerator and pull out a bottle of water. My gaze lingered on his ass. He didn’t wear his pants tight, like a lot of rockers these days—ahem, Galloway—but the material sure stretched nice and snug over his perfect ass as he bent over. Then he straightened all too soon and was turning back to us before I could cut my ogling party short.

He caught me in the act, but instead of scowling for checking him out, he lifted his bottle. “Need one?”

I shook my head, even though my mouth was as dry as sawdust. “Actually, I need to find the john.” Which I was dreading. I so did not look forward to entering the men’s room in this place. Why, oh why, had I laughed at Jodi’s Go Girl and purposely not brought it?

“You can use the private one for workers.” He motioned to a nearby doorway, and I nearly wept in relief.

“Gracias.” Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I hurried into the small room, glad to have it all to myself, and sped through my potty break. All the sweat that had gathered inside my mask was bugging the hell out of me, but I didn’t give into temptation and take if off for a quick dry-down. I had a bad feeling I’d probably pull it back on all wrong.

Once I washed my hands and returned to the rest of the group, Galloway was still jabbering about all the different women he felt he could score with before the night was over while Holden quietly listened to him. Asher sat sprawled on the sofa with his head back against the cushions, his eyes closed, and his fingers and toes tapping to a beat only he could hear. His lips moved as he silently sang to himself.

When I shut the door behind me, his lashes came open and green eyes assessed me. “How’re you holding up? Your playing’s been great.”

“Gracias.” I shrugged and settled into a side chair. “And I’m good. Definitely feeling the vibe and ready to get back out there.”