Page 35 of Surge


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Nora put her hand on his arm. “Oh, do it, honey. I haven’t seen you on stage in too long.”

Every man crumbled to their mom’s request. I couldn’t have been more grateful he did because Drake really hadn’t been the same in the past few days. Sure, he was the same kind, generous guy. But he seemed less energetic. Less up for spontaneity. The wind kicked out of his sails.

Drake headed up on stage, carried on an eruption of surprised applause from the audience. Even before he arrived under the multicolored spotlights, under the bright white one that had followed him all the way from his seat, the band was well into a looped intro.

Seeing him up there set my soul on fire. When he started to sing, it was as if he plugged in to the universe and accessed an energy current that lit up his soul. He sang the words wistfully at first, almost as if concentrating to remember them. Then something clicked, or perhaps he decided he liked the way the band interpreted the melody, but he let off an electric smile, so genuine and desirable because it came from a place inside him we all wanted to go.

The process of watching Drake live was one that left the room intoxicated. It was rousing. Mesmerizing. Magnetic. You couldn’t take your eyes off him no matter what anyone else was doing.

Drake’s gaze turned on our table. First, he made eye contact with Nora. He shot her a dazzling, sweet smile. She made the shape of a heart with her hands and put it in the air. Her cuteness was too much to bear. Then, it was my turn.

Our eyes met. His smile faded into an expression more intense. A set of stalking eyes bore right through my skin, and even from this distance I swore I saw his nostrils flare. I grew heavy between my legs, and his gaze set off that tingling sensation only he could ignite without even laying a finger on me.

Damn. I was in trouble later.

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