Page 26 of Reverb
It shouldn’t have been an issue. “I’ve sung before.” Her mom had always said she had the voice of an angel.
There it was again, that flutter in her stomach.Shit. Mish sorted through her lipsticks and ignored the emotions. And David. “Dom, honey, Blood Blue or Violet Massacre?”
Dom, at his own station, craned his neck around and rolled his eyes. “With that skirt? Please. Blood Blue.” He waved a hand.
She could have gone either way, but Dom had an eye for color and makeup. Hell, half the time he gave her tips. She put on the blue and half watched David from the corner of her eye. He was looking at her skirt, which was leather and electric blue.
The violet would have popped against her sleeveless top, which was short and purple. When she ran out on stage with the band, she’d wear a short white jacket over it, but that wouldn’t last long. Her boots were white to contrast against the black net stockings that had rhinestones scattered here and there.
The rest of her makeup pulled the starkness of both those colors up to her face and mixed it with the others. Once she finished with her lips, she realized that Dom had been absolutely correct—the blue was the only choice. The violet would have been too much, and none of the other colors in her arsenal would have worked as well.
She didn’t know if she was still replying to David, or speaking to herself. “I’ve sung before.” This time her nerves were rock steady when she met David’s gaze.
His stare raked over her. “Damn, you are something.” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t say that, I know.”
“Darling, I appreciate a man who appreciates me. These boys see me all the time, and they ain’t interested anyway.”
“I appreciate you,” Marcella said from across the room, humor in her voice.
“Yeah, but you have a no-dating-the-band policy.” She winked at Marcella.
The other woman laughed. “You bet I do. Bands aretrouble. Somuchtrouble.” Her smile fell to something friendly. “Besides, pretty sure I’m not your type.”
Mish was pretty sure of that, too. Not that Marcella wasn’t into women—Mish was almost certain she was, but she never got the vibe that Marcella was all that attracted toherin particular. Still, Mish enjoyed teasing Marcella anyway.
She fucking enjoyed teasingallof them.
Her eyes strayed back to David. This one, too, with his dark eyes and hair and intense stare. “I’ll be fine,” she said, finally answering his original question.
Seriousness had settled onto David. “I have no doubt. I know we’ve joked about it, but you really are rock royalty, Mish.”
She spied Ray smiling in the reflection of his mirror.
Okay. She liked David. “You’re a charmer.”
“I don’t know about that.” His expression was sly. “I’m too unvarnished not to tell the truth.”
“Unvarnished.” She laughed. “You know, I’d kiss you on that cute cheek of yours, but then you’d be stuck with a big old blue lip print, and everyone would know where you got it.”
He offered his cheek anyway, and she patted it. “Maybe later, honey.”
“Can’t wait, darling,” he drawled.
“Hey,” Ray said, breaking into the conversation. “You guys keep that up, and there’s gonna be rumors.”
Marcella rolled her eyes. “There are always rumors about the band, Ray.”
“Yeah, but they’re usually about Adrian and me,” said Dom—and this was more Dominic than Domino. “Though I don’t wish a boy toy rumor on you, Mish.”
She waved away Dom’s words.
For his part, David’s smile never wavered. “I’m gonna go check the stage out.”
Ray got this look, then shook it off. Mish knew the source, they all did, except David. He’d seen Ray, too, though. “What’s up, boss?”
“Sometimes I like to watch the opening band perform from the side of the stage, but we shouldn’t tonight.”
“Not on opening night, no,” Zavier echoed. They were both wearing black leather—Ray a vest and Zavier those tight pants of his. “We’d make them even more nervous.”
