I even saw a few indie bands with Stan.
But I've never been alone.
And I've never been to a show like this.
The opening act is playing. I recognize the singer's voice from one of my phone calls. He's good, and he's charismatic, and he's strutting around the stage like he owns the place.
Women in the audience are screaming and singing along with the lyrics and jumping up and down.
And even though I don't know the band, I'm caught up enough in the energy to do the same.
I can actually feel the music. It's vibrating against my chest.
And the crowd is bumping and bopping in time with the beat.
The room is dark except for the stage lights, and they're casting the opening act in a hazy glow.
I get caught up in the music until the singer is announcing it's the final song. Then he's singing, and I'm trying to listen, but I'm not.
I'm thinking about Joel on that stage.
About how women are going to react to him.
About how I'm going to react to him.
I'm already going out of my mind with desire.
Can I really handle him in full on rock star mode?
My mind is spinning. I barely notice the guys bow and take their leave. I barely notice the way the crowd quiets, then eases, then starts to grow again. Ten minutes pass. Twenty.
Then the lights are dark.
And the crowd is chanting Dangerous Noise.
And I can't think. Period.
My gaze goes to the stage.
It's all dark. I can't see anything. I can't do anything but dig my heels into the ground to hold my position. As uncool as I feel in my jeans and flats, I'm glad for the comfortable clothes. I haven't got a clue how the women in cocktail dresses and heels are managing.
The stage lights turn on.
Joel is the first to walk onto stage. He blows kisses to his fans. His eyes pass over the crowd.
They meet mine.
He winks.
I melt.
Right now, Joel isn't the one-night stand I accidentally married.
He's not the guy I might want to stay married to.
The guy who's incredibly unclear on whether or not he'd like to stay married to me.
He's a fucking rock god.