Page 78 of Animal Beats

“Maybe.” I’m done wallowing. “But he’s here in one piece—and sober—so I’m counting that as a win.”

“Good call. I’m going to round up the troops. You coming?”

“Nah. I’ll watch from here.” I push my fist forward. “Go get ‘em!”

His shoulder-length brown hair swings as he turns. Río’s isn’t too much shorter than his now.

Change the subject!

I take a deep breath. I’ll fly commercial with the others to Ireland tonight and meet up with UC like I used to do. My days babysitting Río—and flying private—are long gone.

The band forms a circle and does their pre-gig ritual. I’ve seen this so many times, but it still gets my blood pumping. Involuntarily, I respond with my own whoop following Bennett’s yelling his infamous line.

After they rush onto the stage, Nese puts her arm through mine and escorts us to the backstage area, where we can watch the band perform unobtrusively. Jenna joins us. Their first song is greeted by loud applause.

“I’ll never tire of seeing my man in those pants, Nese.”

The stylist blows on her fingers. “It’s a tough job.” She punctuates her sentence with a hearty laugh.

“Coop’s sunglasses look cool on the stage,” Jenna adds.

“I’d really like for him to take them off when he’s offstage.” Nese rolls her eyes. “Anyway, at least Tris and 007 are rocking what I gave them.”

I follow their statements and my gaze bounces from the guitarist to the bassist to the keyboardist. Anything to keep myself from watching the drummer. I join their conversation, “Tris is such a nice guy.”

“I don’t think the others have had time to corrupt him yet,” Nese replies.

“He’s the real deal,” Jenna adds. “Polite to a fault. He’s someone special.”

We all stare at Tris, who appears to be lost in the music. It’s as if he can’t help himself, but sways at the keys in a super-sexy way. Not to be outdone, 007 walks over to the keyboard and strums his bass—of course, the instrument is right over his crotch. As is Coop’s. All of them exude sex appeal, which the women in the audience eat up. Some of the men, too.

“Make Me Feel It,” their second number one, comes to an end. The cymbals are hit from all directions by the shirtless drummer, to whom I refuse to give any more time. At least none of my companions mention his antics.

Bennett takes the mic. “How are you doing, Lisbon?” He puts his hand to his ear. Shouts from the crowd reverberate throughout the stadium.

The lead singer laughs and looks over his shoulder. Next to me, Jenna waves and he blows her a kiss.

If only … stop, Hayden. Río showed his true colors today. He won’t change.

The band jumps into another one of their hits, spurred on by the audience. This group of talented men gather energy from them and reflect it back. Every single night has a different vibe, but the concert always starts at a level ten out of ten, and ends somewhere near a fifty.

Later, Luke joins us as Bennett talks with the crowd again. Jenna notes, “This is where Luke changed things up. Bennett’s going to pass off the call-and-repeat to Río. He told me they were doing something different tonight, but I have no idea what.” The trio claps with the audience.

I remain motionless. Can’t wait to see whatever it is they came up with to deflect the bad videos from the boat fiasco. My only hope is they put a positive spin on the boat incident. Er, disaster.

Bennett says, “Seems like our friend on drums had too much fun this afternoon and got to know the river around Lisbon pretty well!”

For his part, Río approaches Bennett doing what appears to be some sort of swimming stroke.

“What are you doing, Río?”

The drummer takes the mic from Bennett’s hand. “The breaststroke!” The audience howls with laughter. He’s referencing the boat today without saying anything about it, and the roar of approval indicates they’re on board with it. When he mimics squeezing someone’s boobs, they go wild.

Laughing, Bennett eggs him on. “I can’t imagine doing a call-and-repeat with this group can come close to your afternoon antics.”

Río puts his hand above his eyebrows and walks up to the edge of the stage. “I don’t know, Bennett. This afternoon I saw dolphins spinning in the air. I bet this audience can do one better and shatter the roof.” He crosses his heart. “I promise not to fall off this stage.” The drummer pretends to lose his balance but straightens. The crowd raises hands as if trying to save him.

“No more falls for you today.” Bennett yanks Río backward, and they stop in the center of the stage. “How about you take over from here.”