“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Justin turned his shrewd gaze on me. “Nothin’. Just remember who he is.”
He patted my shoulder and walked away as Charlie approached, looking slightly out of place in his perfectly pressed khakis and snug-fitted orange button-down. As usual, he was by far the most colorful guy in the building.
Charlie gestured at my hat and smiled. “I like it. You look like a baller.”
“A baller?” I repeated with a laugh.
“Did I say it wrong? Doesn’t matter. Don’t tell me.” Charlie hooked his arm through mine and flashed an excited grin toward the stage. “We have three important music and culture bloggers in the audience and…wait for it…Ziggy Balmer!”
“Who the fuck is that?”
“He’s a social media maestro. His brother is DJ Zag. He’s famous for doing remixes for major artists. So exciting!”
“Zig and Zag?” I huffed, still watching the stage. “I heard Xena is out there too.”
“Yeah, we have a lot of eyes on us. But…I have an idea. I ran it by Dec before Jealousy went on, and he’s on board if you are. They’re ending with ‘The Magic’ and I think you should play it with them. Then Dec will introduce Zero, you stand, and maybe…I don’t know, do something boyfriend-y. Something subtle. Link your fingers…like this.” Charlie wrapped his pinky around mine and fluttered his eyelashes.
“O-kay.”
“Or hug him and let your hand drift to his ass. Don’t grab it, just…touch. Do you know what I mean?”
“Are you giving me boyfriend lessons?”
Charlie shrugged. “I’m sure you’re a pro. Subtlety is key, though. We’re building a mystery, not filming a money shot. Be natural, smile…but not too wide. Try, but don’t try too hard. And—”
“I got it, Char. I’ll follow Dec’s lead.”
“Oh, well he doesn’t know about this. He knows about the song…not the something extra. An element of surprise is our best weapon. What do you say?”
“Um…okay.”
Charlie hugged me impulsively, then kissed my cheek. “Excellent. I’ll signal to my camera people. Break a leg!”
I watched the show with heightened interest now, noting the sweat on Declan’s brow as he pushed his longish hair behind his ears. My fingers itched at the memory of pulling a fistful of it while I fucked him over my kitchen counter a couple of nights ago. Subtle wasn’t in our repertoire. Our physical communication tended to be…intense. We didn’t caress. We crashed and collided. It felt odd to be given a green light to touch him in public. It made me nervous.
“And I’ve been waiting such a long time. Such a long time…”
Dec’s voice trailed off as he set the mic on the stand. The lights lowered theatrically, cuing thunderous applause. When the lights rose, the noise level was deafening. And when Dec lifted his arms in the air, it escalated. They fucking loved him. My gaze flitted over his body…his broad shoulders and tapered waist bathed in the eerie illumination from the stage…then to the audience.
In a venue this size, there was no barrier between the fans and the band. I could clearly make out the rapt expressions in the front row. They were in awe. They seemed to sense that something special was happening here.
“Thank you. You guys are awesome. We’ve got one more song for you and…” Dec turned to scan the side stage. He met my gaze and smiled when I gave him a thumbs up. “A special surprise. This song almost didn’t make the album, but I couldn’t let it go. Nothing’s easy, right? We needed a little help fast when our drummer got injured, and thankfully, an old friend stepped in and fuckin’ rocked it. And…he just happens to be here. Give it up for Zero’s drummer, the pro on percussion and maestro beat-master, Tegan Monroe.”
A crew member handed me a set of drumsticks, and next thing I knew, I was onstage. I fist-bumped the temp after he took a bow, then nodded to Dec and the other guys in the band before taking my place behind the drums. I twirled the sticks a few times and beat a rhythmic tattoo designed as an intro or an interlude. None of this was rehearsed, but the second I counted the band in, we’d begin. I kept my eye on Dec in case he had another idea.
He pivoted to face me, flashing a megawatt grin. And I flubbed the fucking beat. No joke. I found my place immediately, and I doubted anyone noticed. Other than Dec. He definitely noticed. His already impossibly wide smile grew to epic proportions. Damn, he was beautiful.
Focus, Monroe. I stopped suddenly, hit the sticks a few times. “One, two…”
And so it began.
My job was to enhance the rhythm. I was aware of lyrics, chords, and the notes that pulled everything together, but I’d become a master at tuning out the scenery so I could concentrate on timing. I rarely listened to Justin sing during a show. His performance was layered on top of mine. If I fucked up, he might not remember the words.