Beside me, Logan was tense, although his fingers tapped out the rhythm on my waist, and I could hear him hum at times.
When Bobby launched into his second song, I knew. I looked up at Logan. “That’s your song.” I recognized the melody, having heard him play it as he composed. I cupped his cheek and rolled up on my toes, my lips at his ear. “They bought a couple of your songs!”
He grinned down at me with a slight bob of his head, but he didn’t say anything. As Bobby brought the next song to a close, Logan leaned down and kissed my forehead.
“Wait right here,” he instructed. “This is for you.”
He was gone before I could ask him anything. Bobby strummed his guitar, smiling into the crowd.
“Sometimes in life, you get to meet someone whose vibe speaks to yours. If you’re lucky, you get to be friends with them. If you’re extraordinarily lucky, you get to share their vibe and work with them. It is my great privilege to introduce the talent behind the last two songs, my new music partner, and the latest signing of Ravaged Roadside. Ladies and gents, I give you Logan.”
I gaped as Logan strolled out onstage, his guitar ready. The lights glinted off the worn wood, the brass fittings gleaming. He looked calm and happy, smiling at the applause. He didn’t say anything but stood close to Bobby with a nod, his fingers already strumming.
Bobby pressed close to the mic. “Lottie, this one is yours. Whatever you’re doing to my friend here, keep it up.”
Then Logan began to play. This one, I recognized, as he had played it often. But I had never heard the words he would scribble in the notebook that always accompanied him. Bobby’s voice was drenched in longing and love. He sang words of adoration. Hope. Inspiration. He poured his heart and soul onto the stage, telling the story of a girl who changed the course and life of a lost soul, bringing him into focus. Of loving her beyond comprehension and needing her to live.
The entire time Bobby sang, my eyes were locked on Logan. His rich, intense gaze was pinned on me. It was as if only the three of us were in that room as Bobby crooned lyrics so deep and personal—so obviously Logan and me—I was moved to tears. They coursed down my cheeks unheeded. I wanted Logan to see them, to know I felt him and his love in that song. In all his songs.
As the final notes ended, Bobby’s voice trailing off into a whisper of the last words, the room was silent. I felt my rapid breathing, the way my heart skipped and jumped in my chest. The room burst into loud applause, people stomping on the floor, yelling for more. I couldn’t move, my hands pressed tight to my chest, overcome with emotion. The two men waved, Logan shook Bobby’s hand, and disappeared. Bobby waited until the crowd quieted and spoke. “That was a rare appearance by my new partner. I promise you’ll see him again. I have one more song for you.”
I felt Logan before I saw him. He appeared by my side, his heat soaking into me. I turned and gazed into his eyes. He lifted his hand and wiped away my tears, then tugged me into a dark corner and cupped my face. “Hi,” he murmured. “Good tears?”
I grabbed his wrists. “I am so proud of you.”
He shook his head. “That—” he indicated the stage behind him “—was all because of you.”
“No. That was because of your talent.”
He bent and kissed me, the passion that shimmered between us all the time exploding with the energy we were both feeling. He dragged his tongue along my lip, and I opened for him, whimpering as he took control and kissed me with utter abandon. I shuddered at the long, sensuous passes of his tongue, nips of his teeth, and the way he held my head captive, controlling every aspect. Finally, he broke away, leaning his forehead to mine.
“I have so much to tell you.”
“I want to hear it.” I tilted back my head. “I guess they bought more than a couple of songs.”
“You have no idea.”
“When can we leave?”
“Not soon enough.” He dragged me closer and ground his erection into me. “Talking is going to have to wait awhile, Lottie. This time, I want to take you along on this frenzy.”
His eyes were so dark, the golden whiskey color was obscured. I felt the tension in his body—a coil wound so tight it was about to spring. His hands held me a little too firmly. He was desperate. Barely hanging on.
Recalling what happened last time he was this way, my own desire ramped up. “Let’s go.”
It took a while to leave the room. Trev and Brianna stopped us, congratulating Logan and wanting to talk. The same with Rex and Gretch. His friends were excited, shocked, and wanting to hear the whole story. He promised them time the next day, simply saying we had someplace to be. Brianna caught my eye, her eyebrows lifting at my expression. She stepped back, tugging on Trev’s arm.