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She nodded. “I know.”
He leaned down to her. “Well, you just surprised the fuck out of everyone.”
She took a look over his shoulder and gave a belly laugh. “That crowd is crazy.”
“Fuck, yeah, it is.”
“How about another song?” Molly asked the crowd. “One more?”
The crowd screamed and Molly fell onto her knees. The lights went down and a spotlight focused on her. She crouched over the mic, her hair a curtain around her. The crowd was thundering, but her husky voice was sultry and powerful.
Final song.
Deviating from the setlist was going to get his ass reamed.
“I have to play.”
She nodded and pushed her hair out of her face. Suddenly, she looked a little off, but he couldn’t figure out why. Were her bangs crooked?
Hmm.
He followed the sultry tones of “Walk Away”. It was Molly’s song. She’d composed most of it, with only a little input from him and Michael on the bridge. The lyrics were heavy and emotional.
Each note was wrung out of her and the guitars that wept in time with her. He played the softest layer of melody in the background. As close as he’d been to the classical piano from his childhood.
The song was magic.
Molly did nothing but shine. It was the perfect song to end the set. Molly arched off the stage then back down over her mic one more time, slapping the stage as she let the soulful notes flow out into the night to the sea of lighters and torch apps on phones.
Elle and Juliet moved to help her up and the three girls clustered together. Juliet made gimme fingers behind her back and the rest of the band surged forward. He and Ryan made up the left, Michael and Mal on the right of the girls. Everyone bowed and hugged except Mal.
He simply melted back into the shadows, leaving the rest of them in the light.
Everyone scattered and West hustled to the edge of the stage where Lauren stood. The toes of one of her shoes was turned in and she’d crossed her arms over her middle. Her gaze was on the crowd below. All her natural charisma had leaked away, leaving her vulnerable.
West dug under the drum riser for the T-shirt cannon they kept under there. He’d pulled away some of the focus on their normal shtick on stage with his stage diving. The least he could do was give her a T-shirt.
He grabbed the first one on top and tossed it to her as he dragged her off backstage.
“Wait, I’m with someone.”
West stopped. “Boyfriend?”
She blinked up at him. Damn, those gray eyes were going to kill him. Please say no. She finally shook her head.
He started moving again. “Good.”
She shuffled behind him, stumbling once before righting herself. “You’re taking me backstage? That’s amazing.”
“Least I can do after you outclassed me on the piano.”
“After eight years of lessons, I had to play something other than Chopin or I was going to go out of my mind.”
“I hear that.” He took her hand, their fingers instantly lacing. No fumbling, no fingers out of order—just like her hand was made for his.
They got to the mouth of the hallway and both froze. “Crap.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Lila stood at the end of the hall.
