Rock Me Deep (19 page)

I should have kicked him out sooner.

If I had, would I have ever met Lola Cooper?

She clawed her guitar, eliciting notes that turned me inside out. The people felt it, too; they became nothing but tooth-filled mouths that begged for more. They wouldn't lynch her. They couldn't, not when they'd just learned what I recently had.

Lola was beyond amazing.

Every song merged together for me. They made a map that took the audience through a world of smoke, charcoal and rust. They tasted our enthusiasm, reveled in every lyric like I'd written it just for them. By our last song, I was panting. Sweat turned my skin bronze; shiny and new.

The back of my shirt was soaked through. The front, well...
The eyes of every girl in the first row says it all.
“Listen up,” I whispered into the mic. “This is our last song.” I let the cries of sadness die out. “It's my favorite. Maybe yours, too.”

Porter and Colt summoned the first notes that heralded No More Stars.

Bathing in the cheers, I stalked across the stage. Lola met my eyes. She was glowing, lips puckered. Everything in her face, her aura, made me think of sex. I wanted to grab her, kiss her harder than I had in the elevator.

The gravity between us tugged. I
saw
it, how her joy stumbled. She wasn't angry. It wasn't the cold wall of rejection. With the heat of our momentum—the music—sinking into both our souls...

Lola shivered with lust.

Fuck. Fucking hell.

Pouring that voracious need into my voice, I belted out the words to No More Stars. She followed me down, rampaging over her strings. Nothing could stop us; none of us.

Four and a Half Headstones was whole.

Once I had Lola...

I would be whole, too.

Lola

I
'd never felt more alive.

Perspiration ran down my sternum, the backs of my knees were taut as elastics. I thought, if I tried, I could have jumped straight up and never come down.

This was what playing music was all about.

Laughing, crying, none of it mattered; none of it would have helped. I was a bundle of nerves ready to explode. Or, perhaps I
had
exploded. My ears were ringing, the powder keg of my mind leaving fragments that coated one word across the inside my skull.

Rock star.

I was a fucking rock star.

When I used to stand backstage or in a crowd during shows, I thought I knew what it would be like to play in front of so many people. I thought I understood.

I didn't have a clue.

Drezden pranced for them, he stormed and kicked and screamed. Veins stood out on his throat. The insides of his forearms became trails, his tattoos rippling while he strangled the microphone. In his element, he was more beautiful than ever.

I'd been worried I'd fumble, but something had changed; the concentrated essence of his voice wasn't aimed at me. Standing back where I was, I was spared his attack.

It was the crowd that took every hit.

The ending notes of No More Stars faded in my ears.
No, not yet. I'm not done yet.
On a whim, I tangled up my strings and extended the music. It was spontaneous, but the fans wailed for more. Next to me, Porter and Colt went silent. Abruptly, I was performing a guitar solo.

I met Drezden's gaze. Like that day, when I'd auditioned, I felt the pull from him. This was the man who turned me inside out. He felt his way into me with just his eyes. Drezden didn't need anything else to touch that place deep down in my core.

Quaking in my vinyl boots, I let my guitar go; it swung from its strap like a pendulum.

The dead silence was brief, swallowed up by the black hole of the Fillmore's crowd. It was as if every single person in there was making as much noise as they could.

They crowed for an encore, but someone was leading me off stage. Without thinking, I ripped my arm away. I didn't want to go anywhere! This was my home, my life, and every nerve begged to keep me standing in the worship of—

“Lola,” Sean said, teeth glinting. “Lola! Holy shit! You were amazing!”

I shoved him backwards with my hug. Together, we stumbled backstage, away from the blinding lights. “Sean! Sean, oh my gosh! Did you see? Did you see that?”

We were jumping, a mess of shouts that kept building with our excitement. What we said didn't matter. Only our feelings counted.

Gripping my shoulders, he gave me a shake that rattled my teeth. “How did you get so
good?
”

Feeling cocky, I let myself smirk. “I was always that good.”

Sean's forehead wrinkled. My gut said I'd gone too far, until I noticed he was looking just past me. Turning, I stepped aside and found Drezden within arm's reach. “She is really good,” the singer said. Reaching out, he offered his hand to my brother. “Long time no see.”

“Well,” Sean said, accepting the handshake. “Not exactly. I've seen
you
a bunch.”

The tightness in Drez's smile unnerved me. “These tours get busy for me, sorry I didn't come over before now.”

I didn't have time to get anxious from their tension. A crowd was forming, Brenda leading Porter and Colt our way. “Great job tonight, guys,” she said. She beamed at me, then spotted my brother. “You especially, Lola. Sean! Hey, good opening act.”

“Thanks.” Thumbing his ear, he looked over us all. “Getting packed back here. Lola, me and the guys are going to be partying at a place down the street. I'll text you if you want to show up for the afterparty, okay?”

I said, “Sure. Sounds good.” I was smiling again. I couldn't keep my exuberance in check. “And thanks, Sean.”

He walked backwards, wiggling his fingers. “For what?”

For being there for me, for pushing me.
“Just... everything.” He rolled his eyes before hurrying away.

Brenda grabbed her hips, hair bouncing. “Afterparties, about that. You guys better be ready to climb on the bus tomorrow morning.”

“I'll be fine,” Porter said, elbowing me firmly. “Can't speak for the newbie, though.”

I gave the bigger man a light shove, laughing. “And I told
you
, this isn't my first afterparty.”

“With us, it is.” The drummer hooked his arm in mine, while Porter pushed me forward. The two of them had no trouble forcing me towards a back exit. “Come on! Our driver will take us to the club, it's supposed to be awesome!”

Drezden was following, a bloodhound who had my scent. “Wait,” I said. I dug my heels in, the floor screeching under me. “Wait, wait! We're not going to the same place as Sean and the rest of his band?”

They let me go, none of them meeting my eyes. All the fun had evaporated. “He might show up,” Porter mumbled. "Who knows?"

“Might?” Wrinkles crawled over the bridge of my nose. “They're not allowed into this club, are they?” I didn't wait for anyone to speak, their eyes were darting around, gliding off of me like I was made of oil. “If he or any of his band show up, they better be let inside.”

A hand clapped onto the top of my head; Drezden. “Calm down. I'll let the security know they can get in. Sound fair, kid?”

Kid.
My heart swelled at the name he'd stopped calling me so quickly.
I told him not to, that's why. I said I wasn't a damn kid.
Pin-pricks crawled up my arms.
Then he asked me... he asked me what I was doing to him.
Every inch of me heated up, reliving the memory of being in the tub.

Unable to handle his nearness, I pushed away. I kept going, being the first to step out into the open air. The world was full of screams, flashing lights, and men in black holding an army at bay. These were the fans of Four and a Half Headstones.

My fans,
I thought in wonderment. Looking over my shoulder, I challenged the rest of the band with my eyes. “You guys said you wanted to show me a 'real' afterparty. Then come on, show me what it means to be a member of Four and a Half Headstones.”

****

I
nside the club, there was no air. It was a place built from human heat and purple lights. No one cared; everyone was eager to suffocate if it meant they could be near the stars.

Near us.

Near
me
.

Thumping music pumped into my muscle fibers. It made me dance, but the alcohol was what made me feel free. No one cared I was underage, they didn't dare turn me away. I'd told the guys I'd been to afterparties before. It galled me how right they'd been, though.

This was nothing like the parties Barbed Fire ended up at.

Packed to capacity, the club was sweltering. Bodies without faces ground against me, turned me to hamburger with their rough motions. Tossing back my third—fourth? —rum and coke, I closed my eyes and rolled into the sea.

Thump. Thump. Thump. The rhythm rocked my heart.

It was fun to have time eaten away like this, I didn't need to think about Drezden and how his presence was making me fall apart. My temples were expanding with pressure from the noise.
Alcohol, I've had too much alcohol.
Something bumped me; a hip or a thigh.
I should stop, get some air. I need to breathe!

Foreign fingers hooked around my waist. I didn't know him, his face was an amethyst in the glow of the lights. “Hey,” he croaked, dark bruises under his eyes. “I know you, you're Lola.”

I said, “Yup.” With one hand trapped by my drink, I tried to use the other to pry myself free. The guy, whoever the fuck he was, wouldn't have it.

Yanking me close, his sour breath invaded my nose. “You were amazing up there.” His nose touched my forehead, sniffed my hair. “Come on, let's dance, babe.” Too fast, his hands ran up my ribs like giant spiders.

No way, not letting this happen.
This asshole was sporting a giant grin. Wrenching back my arm, I erased it with a blast of ice and rum. I dropped the glass, the plastic 'clonk' not reaching me over the music.

In disbelief, he wiped his face; his eyes were furious. “You fucking bitch!”

There was a part of me that wanted him to try something. My brain was full of disgust for the other night, when the guards had thrown me down so easily. I wasn't a victim; those days were in my past. I could fight and I
would
fight, if someone gave me a reason.

Let this fucker give me a reason.

It would relieve so much poisonous energy if I could let loose and just go crazy.

The stranger gritted his teeth, but he didn't take a step towards me. His eyes shot up, over my shoulder. In the funny lighting of the club, Drezden was a purple demon. I'd have called him an angel, but I didn't need saving, and there was nothing angelic about him.

“There a problem?” He was looking at me while clearly talking to the guy soaked in my drink. The nameless shithead had to know who my 'hero' was. If he'd recognized me, Drezden Halifax was a given.

The stranger scrubbed his cheek, barely talking over the music. “No problem. Forget it.” He faded into the crowd, become another writhing body.

Drezden stared after the man longer than I did. Facing him, I noticed how people had given us some space. No one wanted to accidentally upset this beast of a man by bumping into him. Through my alcohol cloud, I noticed how serious he seemed. “I didn't start that,” I said, expecting him to be snippy. “And I could have handled it myself.”

“The drink stain on his shirt says you did handle it.” Cocking his head like a hawk, a smile tugged at one side of his lips. “If I get too close, will you do the same thing to me?”

Tobacco and salt filled my nose, replacing the sourness of the stranger. I honestly didn't know what I would do if Drez got too close. “Get me a new drink and let's find out.”

He threw back his head, laughing. His green eyes became black smoke. “What if I tell you I don't want to get you a drink?”

“You think I've had too much already.” It was a flat statement. I was halfway to drunk, but not there yet. Things were fuzzy and fun and my head could have floated away. But I wasn't smashed.

I ran my eyes over his torso in that tight fitted ribbed top, a clean replacement after our show. He was gorgeous; he knew it, everyone knew it.

I definitely knew it.

The singer was quiet. We stood there in the middle of a war, fists and knees punching all around us. Magically, we were untouched. He and I managed to escape into a bubble no one dared to break. What did others sense around us? What kept them at bay?

His fingers glided up the outside of my left wrist before I thought to stop him. By then, it was too late. “It's not that," he said. "You can drink as much as you want. It's just hard to dance with a glass in your hand.”

Heat twinkled like stars in his face. I wanted to gaze on him forever and vanish into his galaxy. It was so easy to just fall into him. If I tumbled headfirst, I'd float forever and never return. “You want to dance with
me
when every crazy-hot girl here is clawing her eyes out to get your attention?”

“Why would that matter?” He tugged my arm, forcing me closer to his chest. “I want to spend more time with you.”

More?
The music rolled in my belly, coaxing me to give in. “We spent the last two days trapped on a bus together. There's not much time that we missed.”

“It wasn't enough.” Drezden's hands dug into me. It was a beautiful pain, begging me to crush myself against him. “I need more, and I'll find any way to get it. Even if that means not sleeping... or not breathing. I want to devote every second I have to you, Lola."

Fear warned me not to get closer; if we touched our bodies, we'd both burn up.
But would it be the worst way to go?
I looked for my tongue, tried to make it wet my dry mouth. Nothing was in my control anymore. All my pieces wanted to obey the ache Drezden was creating between my thighs. “Suffocating over me sounds ridiculous.”
When did my hips start rocking to the beat?
“Normal people just cut out activities they can afford to stop.”

He made a path up to my shoulders, tracing the outside edge of my sleeves. “Advise me.”

Boldly, I reached for his ass. His nostrils flared wide. The spike of pleasure I got from surprising him was... thrilling. Especially when I squeezed his back pocket; the empty pack of cigarettes crinkled under my grip.