Page 17 of The Fire Walker
I was too chicken shit to come out and ask her the one thing I wanted, so I said, “Nah, go for it,” and elbowed my way into the band room to leave my guitar. As the door closed behind me, I let out a long sigh, running a hand through my hair. Time was running out, and I was pissing in theocean.
After the gig. Yeah, I’d ask her after thegig.
When the houselights went down and The Devil’s Tattoo went on, it was like I’d come alive again. Music, being with my mates, and just being in the moment, filled my veins with life, and it was better than any drug. I was a natural performer—I belongedthere.
We probably played better than we ever had that night. Song after song went by with deafening applause, and we were back. I was back. Every time I would kneel beside the stage, some chick would cop a feel. Hands would grab at my legs, and normally, I’d relish in it, but I only wanted one woman’s hands onme.
I snuck glances toward the side of the stage, knowing Jessie was standing there watching us. If anyone else was there with her, I didn’t notice. A few times, I caught her eye and grinned, finding the fact her gaze was on me incredibly hot. I hoped her pretty brown eyes didn’t leave me for asecond.
When we left the stage the first time before our encore, I brushed past her and said, “Having a goodtime?”
She glanced up with a giddy smile and nodded. I didn’t have time to ponder that as we went back out and played our last two songs—‘Red Heart’ and ‘Bombard.’ Zoe was up on Frank’s drum kit going at it hard, and when she went to jump back down, I caught her in my arms and spun heraround.
“This is the fuckin’ dream,” I murmured in her ear, and she laughed, our guitars smashing together, sending out a burst ofdistortion.
“Amen!” she yelled at the top of her lungs as Chris and Frank milked the applause. I was already dying to read the reviews that would be out afterthatperformance.
Once we’d come down a little from our stage highs and the gear was taken care of, we all ventured out into the crowd, much to Georgie’s horror. The line that separated the band from everyone else only existed in her high and mighty head. Talking to people afterward was one of the things that set us apart. Everyone was on our level, and that was the way we wanted it tostay.
As I wandered through the crowd, I was stopped every so often and asked for a photo or a question about our album. I didn’t mind in the slightest, and it was actually kinda cool being in America and all. Cracking a new territory wide open. People seemed to be excited to see us play, and that was great for the band and did wonders for the state I’d worked myself up into whilerecording.
When I passed Zoe talking enthusiastically to a throng of male admirers, I laughed as Will stood by fuming. She’d come so far in such a short amount of time, and I was so fucking proud of her. Who’d have thought my little meek and mild Zo Zo would’ve turned out likethis?
Finally making it near the bar, I stopped mid-stride when I caught sight of a familiar mousy blonde head in among the crowd. Jessie was standing there on her own, looking at the bright screen of her phone, oblivious to the noise around her. I’d never had the chance to just stand there and look at her. To take her in. She hadn’t noticed me behind her, so I let my gaze wander to all the places I’d fantasized about at night. The curve of her neck, her full lips, her perfect ass. I wondered what she would tastelike.
Shaking my head, I brought myself back to reality. Now was my chance, and I was missing it by ogling her ass? I would ask her out right then. If she said yes, then cue the confetti. If she said no, then she would leave for New York, and I could start getting over this insaneattraction.
“Hey,” I said loudly so she could hear me over the music. She glanced up into my eyes like she could see right through me, and it took my breathaway.
“Hey.”
“When are you going back to New York?” Iasked.
Her eyes widened. “Um, we’re sticking around for a few days.” She shrugged. “Labelstuff.”
“Oh, you’re stillworking?”
“Yeah, for a couple of days,anyway.”
“What are you doing tomorrownight?”
“Oh, um…” She seemed to hesitate, and I already had a vision of the amount of alcohol I would be consuming post-rejection.
It was all or nothing. “If you’re free, can I take you out? I mean, we could…” I took a deep breath. “Do you want to have dinner with me?” So. Fucking.Awkward.
She seemed taken aback for a moment, like it wasn’t already glaringly obvious I had a hard-on forher.
“It’s okay.” I shrugged when she was silent for too long. “Don’t know if you don’t ask.” I tried not to let the disappointment show and took a step back, formulating a drink order for when I got to thebar.
“Okay,” she blurted, and my heartsputtered.
“Okay?” I asked insurprise.
She nodded. “Okay.”
And right then, I think I just fuckingdied.
