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Noah can’t deny himself his music.
I’m not the only one thankful for that. The people who sold out his first show are too.
My skin is hot, burning to the touch as sweat clings to my neck and chest. I’m in the pit with Noah’s sister, Adalyn, and her husband, Cooper, who have flown out to watch his first show. Together, we watch my best friend give the best show of his career thus far.
There’s no way to compare tonight with any prior show. It’s like he found some sort of power lever inside of himself and cranked it all the way up.
Noah’s voice is raspy, dark, and soothing all at once. It’s the most toe-curling, heartbeat-thrashing combination I’ve ever heard. There’s something about it that defeats all of my worries and just makes me feel . . .safe. At home.
We’re all beneath him where we stand, blanketed in darkness while the spotlights slip over his body. It makes him appear godlike. Almost as if we should be worshipping him. I suppose in some way, we are.
The heavy drumbeat kicks up, and for the first time tonight, Noah leaves his spot at the front of the stage and takes two slow steps closer to the edge. He seeks me out of the crowd, and our eyes connect. His pupils are blown, making him look downright feral. It rattles something inside of me, and I gulp, feeling my belly heat.
“That’s my brother, bitches!” Adalyn screams, her mouth too close to my ear. I wince and whip my head in her direction.
“Ow!” I shout back.
She smiles sheepishly and mouths, “I’m sorry,” before turning back to the stage and jumping in time with the music. Cooper tugs her against his chest after a few beats and buries his face in her hair, not giving a shit about the eyes of those around. When Addie leans her head back and nuzzles into his embrace, I look away, suddenly feeling like an intruder.
Addie has been one of my best friends since we were children, and I miss her deeply. Noah used to fight with her constantly, trying to get me to be justhisbest friend. He was not successful in that, and Addie has never let him forget that. Life was so different back then, without husbands and busy careers. Some days, I wish for nothing more than to spend a few more days as a kid.
I don’t see enough of my surrogate family back in Vancouver. I’ll make sure to spend the day with Addie tomorrow before she goes back home. The reminder that she isn’t staying long has my chest constricting.
The increase of screams in front of me draws my attention back to the stage. My lungs squeeze so tight they begin to scream when I find Noah crouched down at the edge of the stage, the toes of his black boots hanging over it. He’s staring at me, his shoulders tight, a heavy tension radiating off him as he sings the lyrics he wrote.
I suck a breath between my teeth and follow his dark eyes as they slip toward his sister and then come back to me. Unsure of what he’s thinking, I just shake my head and smile. I drop my gaze to the microphone in his hands and find him gripping it so tight his knuckles are white.
The metal barricade keeping those of us in the pit from climbing the stage is cold beneath my fingers when I grab it and lean my body against the top, trying to get as close as I can to him. I know security will give me shit for this after the show, but right now, I couldn’t care less.
Extending my arm, I hang it over the space between us and wiggle my fingers. Bodies push at my back and sides as the crowd clues in to what I’m doing. They all want the chance to touch him, and when he reaches his hand out toward me, the look of severed control in his expression nearly does me in. He doesn’t want anyone else to touch him, but he’s willing to risk it for me.
For the chance to touchme.
It’s a big reach, but our fingers brush before curling and locking in place. An unease I didn’t know I held settles at the touch, and I grin, tossing him a wink before pulling back and letting the crowd swallow me. He keeps his eyes on me as I move into the throng of people and try to catch my breath.
Only when I’ve successfully found Addie again does he slowly back away from the edge and move back to his abandoned mic stand. He slips the mic into its holder and picks his guitar up from where he set it two songs ago.
The leather strap settles against his shoulder, and a beat later, a familiar riff floods the venue. It’s the one that leads into my favourite song: “Golden Girl.”
* * *
NOAH
I’m a live wire.
Adrenaline has my cock harder than steel. The urge to fuck is a living, breathing thing inside of me. The crowd still rings in my ears, calling to me long after they’ve started to leave the venue.
We’re in my dressing room. Justice is with his daughter on the couch. He’s trying to play a cartoon on the television. Josh is asleep beside them.
Dagger looks how I feel. Like he’s fighting not to erupt. Down on the floor, he’s doing push-ups at a too-quick pace. The high makes him feel invincible. The sore muscles and fatigue will come tomorrow, and then he’ll do it all over again.
I lean against the wall, my fingers tapping on my thighs. The hands on the clock hung on the wall move slowly. The meet-and-greet is soon. At any minute, they’ll grab me.
Is that where Tinsley is? Waiting for me?
I still feel her fingers curled around mine. Still see the glow in her eyes as they held mine. She didn’t back away from the wildness she saw in me onstage. It looked like she enjoyed it.
The idea of that drives me to insanity. My nails dig into my palms, and I keep pressing until one pops the skin. The pain eases some of my tension. It helps me focus.
