Page 14 of Hard Rock Desires
But I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t enjoyed myself, too.
“I really liked your songs,” I told him. “You’ve got great music. You guys are all fun to watch on stage. And your lead singer is amazing.”
“Anya’s voice is definitely something else.” Zain looked over to where his bandmate was sitting back in a lounge chair, her long raven-black hair falling over her face. “She barely uses it offstage, though.”
“She does seem quiet, unlike that one.” I nodded over to the drummer of the band, a girl who couldn’t have been more than eighteen, clearly the youngest of the bunch. “She’s been non-stop all night.”
“Kaylee’s a firecracker,” Zain told me. “And concerts get her hyped up more than usual.”
“You seemed pretty high-energy up on that stage, too,” I noted.
“Nothing gets me going more than an audience of adoring fans,” Zain said. “But knowing you were out there also helped.”
“Me?” I asked. “Why?”
“Everyone else already worships me,” he said.
“Oh do they, now?” I raised an eyebrow. “You really do think highly of yourself, don’t you?”
“It’s not bragging if it’s the truth,” he said. “I could have been shitty tonight, and no one would have cared. But you were out there, and you’re not a fan, so I knew I’d have to work extra hard to show off what I can do.”
“You certainly were a show off.” I suppressed a smile. “What is it with rock stars and taking off their shirts mid-concert?”
“Do you know how hot those stage lights are?” he asked. “Besides, I put it back on by the encore.”
“I’m sure it was warm,” I said. “But I bet the hooting and hollering from the fans had something to do with it, right?”
He smirked. “That might have played a part, sure.”
A crashing sound made me jerk my head over my shoulder. One of the other band members, the bassist, stared down at a knocked-over end table and a pile of beer bottles on the floor. He wavered on his feet, clearly more than a little tipsy.
“My bad!” he called out.
Venue staff immediately rushed over to clean up the mess. Luckily the bottles had been empty, and the carpet kept them from shattering into small pieces. No one had gotten hurt.
My lips twisted as I looked down at my bottle of water and picked at the label nervously.
No one had gotten hurt,this time.
I should have just gotten up and left. This wasn’t my thing, at all. I shouldn’t have accepted Zain’s invitation to stay. I should have known better.
Three girls flocked to the bassist and cooed over him, running their hands up and down his chest and curling their fingers in his hair. The smug grin on his face told me he was loving the attention.
I supposed that was what guys like them did. They flirted with all the women, drank like fish, partied hard, and rocked out on stage.
There was not one thing about any of those that sounded appealing to me.
“Smooth move, Finn,” Zain called out. “What’s next, tripping over the sofa? Falling into a swimming pool?”
“If I’m remembering right, I didn’t fall,” he said accusingly. “Someonepushed me in.”
Zain flashed him a shit-eating grin. “Now what kind of asshole would do that?”
Finn gave him the middle finger.
“Do you guys play a lot of pranks on each other?” I asked him.
“Tons,” he replied. “We’ve known each other forever. We’re like brothers.”
