Finally, Nadia gives a tiny nod.

“‘Kay. Come here.” I send her a smile and take her hand, leading her to the wing of the stage. I yank a chair over and situate it just behind the wing. “Sit here.” I point at the seat.

She hesitates, blinking into the stage lights.

“Just sit,” I coax.

With faltering steps, she advances and sits in the chair, looking up at me expectantly.

I point toward the stage with a grin. “Best seat in the house,” I tell her. “You can see everything on stage in complete privacy.”

She cranes her neck around the curtain and darts a look toward the packed house. The air is thick and warm with bodies.

The Storytellers should really be playing bigger venues, but Rue gave us our first job, and we're loath to snub her now. If she decides one day she's sick of the crowds we bring, then we'll move somewhere else. For now, our fans will just have to get here early or buy their tickets in advance because we pack the house and sell out every Saturday night.

“See?” I tilt my head toward the audience. “If you can't see them, they can't see you.”

At last, I win one of her rare but beautiful smiles. Like a flower blooming in the snow.

“All right—we are back.” Story speaks into the microphone. “We're going to get going with our next set just as soon as my brother gets his butt out here onto the stage.”

The crowd cheers. “Flynn! Flynn! Flynn!”

“You okay?” I ask Nadia.

She nods. I see hope shining behind her expression, and it does something odd to my chest.

“Don't go anywhere,” I tell her.

Pink stains her cheeks. “I won't.”

“Promise?”

“Flynn!” Lake yells from the stage.

I wait for Nadia's answer.

“Promise,” she says.

I flash her a smile and jog out to the stage just in time to get hit by three girls' panties at once.

2

Nadia

Gospodi, girls are throwing their panties at Flynn. He picks a pair up and slingshots it back out into the crowd, which makes the fans–male and female alike–roar in approval. He starts up the riff to one of the Storytellers’ original songs.

My heart is still racing, but this time it's not from fear. The mechanical gear sound that starts up when I’m having an attack stopped screeching in my ears.

No, my thrill has everything to do with Flynn Taylor. The guy with a pirate smile who is rapidly overtaking Story’s glory as the darling of The Storytellers. The hottest new sound sensation in Chicago. Flynn is becoming the heartthrob every teen girl dreams of. Fortunately, most of them are too young to even get into Rue’s. The rest, though…

Let’s just say Flynn gets plenty of action.

Which is why I can’t decide whether to be thrilled he’s taken an interest in me or just write it off because the guy takes an interest in every female in our age range with a pulse.

The band strikes up their second set, and I jiggle my toes to the rhythm and hum along. I know all their songs by heart. I sometimes go down to listen to them practice in the studio in our building. That’s where I first met Flynn. I was standing in the hallway waiting to go in and clean the place after they finished. He asked if I was coming to see their show Saturday night.

I’d shocked myself by saying yes.

The first time I tried, I made it to the door and had to leave. The next time, I made it a little longer. I’d come in and sit down with Oleg, Story’s boyfriend, the mute bratva enforcer. Once people started coming in, I’d leave. Over the last few months, I’ve worked my way up to staying for longer and longer periods of time with larger and larger crowds of people.

I think I’m doing so well until something like tonight happens.

I’m not even sure what set me off. There was nothing particularly different about tonight, but when I got up to go to the bathroom, I got jostled by several people, and it set off a full-on panic attack.

It's funny how Flynn didn't seem weirded out to find me crying in the alleyway. I think he was just playing it cool, and I absolutely adore him for that. It was sweet the way he covered for me with Adrian–not that Adrian wouldn’t know the truth.

I pull out my phone to text Adrian that I’m backstage, and he can go home without me. It feels wild and daring. Almost as crazy as jumping off a cliff.

He texts back to say he’s staying. Obviously, he doesn’t believe I’ll go through with it.

Am I really going to a party?

The idea both thrills and terrifies me. I've been working myself up to this for weeks now. I asked my therapist to prescribe me the anti-anxiety meds she had suggested months ago. I cut and colored my hair. I let my brother's new girlfriend, Kat, do my makeup.

Tags: Renee Rose Chicago Bratva Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net