Page 11 of Hold Me Closer
They immediately start cheering again, making me laugh. I blow a kiss and then hop down offthe stage, waving.
Zoya beams at me. "You did amazing!" she cries, shoving a bottle of water into my hands. "They love the new stuff."
"Thank God," I groan, pausing to inhale half the bottle. Performing always leaves me dying of thirst. "It'll be a bad tour if they don't."
"Please." She rolls her eyes. "You've never written a bad song a day in your life."
I grin at her, really glad she flew out for the weekend. I've missed her like crazy. Now that she's in her final year of college and I'm here, we don't get nearly enough sister time. I don't get nearly enough with Innessa, either. She's in her first year at UT.
The band troops down the steps, joining us off to the side of the stage.
"You were on fire tonight, Nadia," Lemmy, my drummer, says, holding his fist out for me to bump. "They fucking loved you, kid."
"Thanks." I grin at him, popping the cap back on the water bottle. "You guys did great tonight." I nod at a group of women dressed in tiny shorts and crop tops waiting a few feet away. "Pretty sure they aren't here to meet me."
Lemmy grins, waggling his brows. The man is a little wild. The rest of the band is a lot more mellow and chill. If they sleep around after shows, they're discrete about it.
Not Lemmy.
He doesn't care if the whole damn world sees him leaving shows with a new girl every night. It's kind of gross, but it's not my business. I learned a long time ago that there are a lot worse things you can be in this world than someone who enjoys sex with random women. His partners are willing and eager, and he's a good guy who treats them well. I won't infantilize them by pretending they can't make their own choices.
"You need help breaking everything down?" I ask Jareth, who just shakes his head at Lemmy, his lip curled like he finds the whole thing distasteful. I have a feeling he probably does.
He and Lemmy are close, but they're complete opposites in a lot of ways. Honestly, Jareth is not like any guitarist I've ever met. His family owns a vineyard in northern California. He comes from money—a lot of it. He spends most of his time helping out around there. I honestly don't know how he juggles touring with vineyard life, but he says his family does fine without him while he's away, and he needs the break from their crazy asses.
"Nah." He waves me off. "We've got Samson and Ace to help. You go visit with your sister." He smirks at her the same way he's been doing all night.
She squeaks, looping her arm through mine. I laugh as she practically drags me away, muttering under her breath. I think she calls him a stupid-hot guitarist with a stupid-hot smirk, but I'm not entirely sure.
"Where are we going?" I manage to ask.
"There's a shot of vodka over there with my name on it," she lies. "We need to go get it before someone else does."
"This is a nightclub, Zoya. I'm pretty sure they aren't going to run out of vodka."
"They might. You never know." She peeks over her shoulder and then squeaks again. "Walk faster."
I glance back to find Jareth staring at her ass. "You like my guitarist."
"What? No!"
"Oh my gosh. You do!"
"Filthy lies."
"Great show!" a pretty blonde says as we pass.
"Thank you," I call, throwing a smile her way before refocusing on Zoya, whose cheeks are bright pink. "You do like him."
"Do not," she mumbles, looking everywhere but at me. "He's annoying. And smirky. And he won't stop staring at me."
"He's a good guy. Very interesting."
She huffs wordlessly as we slide onto two barstools at the far edge of the bar, away from most of the crowd. The bartender immediately heads in our direction, grinning.
"Two shots of Stoli, please," I order for us and then glance at Zoya, who is muttering under her breath again. "Better make hers a double."
"Got it," he says and then spins to take care of it.
