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He studies my face for a second before nodding. “Okay, I’ll play.”
The five band members down their beers in one go before standing and approaching the stage. The crowd begins to cheer. “Sinners! Sinners! Sinners!”
“Have you ever heard Fender play live before?” Indigo asks. I shake my head. “You’re in for a treat.”
Our martinis arrive and I sip on mine while I watch Fender get ready to play. After a few minutes, he nods at Cash.
“Good evening, Winter Falls!” Cash shouts as if he’s greeting a stadium of fans and not a group of people in a small town. “We’ve got a new song for you tonight.”
Indigo squeals and jumps out of her chair. She grabs my hand and pulls.
“I’m good.”
“You are not sitting in the corner while your boyfriend plays on stage.”
“Not my boyfriend.”
She rolls her eyes. “You keep telling yourself that.”
“Come on.” Virginia nudges me. “She won’t give up until all of us are in front of the stage.”
“Dog with a bone,” I mutter as I stand and follow her.
Fender notices me and winks. If rock gods were a thing, he’d be one with his bass in his hands, his biceps flexed, and his strong legs planted wide. Too bad he’s not shirtless with his tattoos on display.
“We’ve got a new song for you tonight,” Cash declares and nods to Jett who drums a beat to start them off.
Cash begins to sing.
I’ve been searching for a place to call my own;
Where the winds of change have never blown;
Yearning for a place to finally call home;
I'm gonna find that place to settle down;
Where the stars above never let me frown;
With every hardship faced;
I'll carve my own space;
I've found my haven where I belong;
With her in my arms, I can’t be wrong.
Cash repeats the final lyric and Fender’s gaze finds mine. He stares into my eyes as he mouths the words. With you in my arms, I can’t be wrong.
My heart squeezes and I clutch my chest. I want to be the one in his arms. Always. Oh no. I’m falling for Fender. How did this happen? Yesterday I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship and today I’m falling in love.
Indigo elbows me and I’m thankful for the interruption from my thoughts. “Now you get it.”
“Get what?” I shout back to be heard.
“Why women throw their panties at rockstars.”
No one better throw their panties at Fender. I’ll eviscerate them before forcing them to eat their intestines. And they won’t be getting any ketchup either.
