Page 14 of Rock Star

The crowd had fallen silent.

“She would have so enjoyed tonight,” Axel carried on. “You are a great audience. She would have loved you. We love you.” He placed the mic back on its stand and swung his guitar around to the front. “We are about to play our first ever US hit, ‘The Alchemist’, and we’d like you to join in if you know the words. It was Ella’s favorite so let’s sing it for her.”

Don’t waste your time with explanations

People only hear what they want to hear.We sang, the guys played, and the crowd joined in, swelling the sound as the lights dimmed. After the final riff, Axel thanked the audience on behalf of ChiMera, the spotlight highlighting each band member as he mentioned their names, and then, Oh, My, God, he introduced me, Phoenix Johnson, saying he and the guys were chuffed (such an English word) I was helping out.

The band left their positions and walked forward to the front of the stage. They bowed together, then Axel indicated for me to join them.

With trembling legs, I did so.

“You did good, Firebird,” his voice purred. “So proud of you.”

I caught his masculine scent as he looped his arm around my shoulder, and I felt the hard stares of the women in the audience, jealous I was so close to him.

No need to worry, girls, I felt like mouthing.

After a final bow, we trooped off to the green room, for yet more press and radio interviews.

Not good for our voices, but there was no way we could get out of it.An hour later, Jake had met up with us and we were sitting on couches in the upstairs bar, in a black leather booth at the side of the room, coming down from the adrenalin high of performing. The aroma of blunts being smoked infused the air, but the guys seemed keener on getting plastered than getting stoned.

The place was small and packed with guests for the after-show party. Joe and Mike stood guard by our table, but ChiMera loved their fans almost as much as their fans loved them, and a constant stream of people came up, asking for autographs. The guys signed anything handed to them, including several pairs of tits. Such a cliché but it actually happened. Apparently, these fans had won an internet competition to be included on the guest list.

I sipped my drink of choice, a Margarita, going slow as alcohol tended to make me sleepy. I lost count of the number of bottles of Bud arriving at our table. I was feeling kinda awe-struck, never having been to a private club like this before in my life. The bands I’d worked with in the past had tended to play in seedy joints.

As if reading my thoughts, Axel leaned in and said, “Did you know this used to be a strip club back in the day?”

Was he messing with me? I caught a wicked gleam in his eye as he pointed toward a set of poles. He took a swig from his bottle, then leaned back on the couch, draping his arm over the upholstery behind me. Thankfully, he’d put a shirt on or I’d be melting into a puddle at his feet.

I noticed that the other guys had all found themselves a girl and had moved over to the dance floor. “I hope I’m not cramping your style,” I said to Axel. “If you wanna hook up with someone, I can go home.”

He smirked. “I can give it a rest for tonight. How did you enjoy your first gig in front of an audience with us?”

“I loved it,” I gushed. Then I remembered him talking about his sister and said, “I was honored to stand in for Ella.”

He raked a hand through his tousled hair and I felt a sudden urge to run my finger through it. I tore my gaze away from his and stared wistfully at the tiny dance floor, where people were packed like sardines in a tin.

He must have caught my expression. “You want to join them?”

“You mean dance with you?” I’d tried not to sound too keen, but I couldn’t help myself. “I’d love that.”

“Come on, then,” he held out his hand.

He hadn’t sounded entirely enthusiastic; but on the floor he slid his arm around my waist and drew me close, pressing me into his lean muscled body. His flat stomach felt like cords of steel wrapped around his torso as we swayed together.

He danced like a rock star, of course he did, his moves in perfect timing with the music. Sexy. Sensual. My entire body was burning, and my brain too.

He ran a hand up my arm. Slowly. Deliberately. Until it was cupping my shoulder. The shoulder with my tat.

“Firebird,” he bent and spoke into my ear, his hot breath tickling my neck. He rubbed his thumb over my skin, making it hum with pleasure. “Can you feel it? The fire between us?”

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