AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Give us another round!” Rudd shouts over his shoulder. To us, he says, “I’m going to hit the head. None of you motherfuckers touch the glasses until I get back.”
Hurriedly, I toss a few bills on the bar to cover the bill. “I’m out, too.”
My band finally coalescing? Check. An undiscovered talent like my new singer found hiding in an office cube? Check. Big tour on deck? Check. Girl I’m supposed to spend my future with waltzes into a random bar and stares at me for nine minutes straight like I’m the incarnation of every wet, dirty fantasy she’s ever had? Check. Check. Check.
“Where are you going?” Ian asks.
“To meet my future,” I answer.
Chapter Two
Landry
I broke my glasses an hour ago, but from my vantage point in the corner of the bar it looks like two arrows are slicing through the thick crowd of drunk, hyped people, heading right toward me. One of them looks like the hot guitar player who was onstage with Davis. The other looks like Davis who was slamming drinks at the bar.
“What’re you doing here?” Unfortunately, it’s Davis who reaches me first. The stench of whiskey on his breath is strong. I wonder how much he drank before the set, or hell, during the set.
“Can’t I come see you play?” I counter, trying to downplay my unease. After all, can I really lecture him about bad choices after the night I’ve had.
“Yeah, but—”
Thankfully, before Davis can say anything else, Rock God steps forward.
“Who’s this?” he asks, his voice rich and deep.
Our eyes meet—a collision of green against brown causing a shower of electricity to spark and cascade around us. My breath catches at what I see in those dark pools. I don’t have a ton of experience, but it looks like lust and it’s directed toward me.
The minute I stepped into the bar, he drew my eyes. Who wouldn’t look at him twice? He’s gorgeous. Sandy brown hair, strong jaw, high cheekbones and searing eyes that could hook you a mile away. There’s a piercing at the corner of his right eyebrow that somehow only emphasizes his good looks. His smile made all of the women and half of the men want to climb on to the stage and press their mouths against his lips to see if the smile tasted as amazing as it looks.
His body is muscled perfection—not the thick necked stuff that screams steroids, but the defined, proportional goodness. He looks strong and sturdy, like a thousand pieces of emotional baggage could be flung at him and he’d be able to bat them away like some super hero. He’s taller than Davis by at least two inches and Davis stands six feet.
But it wasn’t his looks that captured my attention. It was his intensity and focus.
As he played and performed with passion I hadn’t seen before, I began to wonder what it would be like if I were the object of his attention, what it would feel like if his fingers worked their magic on my body instead of the frets, what his tongue would taste like if it were making music with my mouth. Given the number of screams directed toward him, I wasn’t the only one having inappropriate thoughts.
His dark eyes laser into mine, rendering my mouth dry and other parts of me wet. I now understand why Davis thinks his new band is going to be a huge success.
“My sister. Landry, Adam. Adam, Landry.” Davis waves a casual hand back and forth, completely oblivious to the sexual tension simmering in the air.
At least…I think it’s sexual tension. I’m partially blind, having left my broken glasses in the car, and it’s been so long since I’ve had a man between my legs that I’ve likely regrown my hymen. Maybe Adam’s just a super intense guy, and I’m reading too much into it.
My nerves are frayed thin. I could be misinterpreting everything right now. Lord knows, my instincts aren’t worth shit.
“Landry,” he says slowly, as if enjoying the feel of my name on his tongue.
“Hey,” I choke out, reaching for the wall behind me so I don’t collapse in a puddle at Adam’s feet.
He smiles and that’s it. I’m slain. Roll me into a grave and throw some dirt on me, because I’m all done.
“Glad you could come tonight. Did you enjoy the show?”
I nod vigorously. “It was good.”
Davis laughs out loud. “Bullshit. You hate live music.”
Adam arches his eyebrow in surprise, a stray strobe light glinting off the upper ball.
“I’ve never said that,” I protest. Suddenly it’s important that everyone within listening range believes I love music. That it’s my life.
