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“This next song is calledRain Checks are for Pussies,” she shouts, tapping out a beat as water streams down her face. Then she pauses, tossing her head back, and laughs. “Just kidding, guys.”
She launches into the next song, and continues through the set before they wrap it up. If the crowd stays, they stay. They’re here for a show, and Jupiter Crash does not disappoint. The band backs into the shed to keep the electrical safe, but Raven remains front and center on top of my truck, singing into the storm like the siren she is.
I drag Ivy back from the mosh, and we dance further back. Lightning flashes across the crowd like a natural strobe, and I laugh because this is fucking insane.
Mia finds us and joins in the madness, pressing her slender,wet body against Ivy as she dances. They slip and slide together, hips shaking, hands in the air. These two are going to be the death of me.
“Thank you for coming out tonight!” Raven shouts finally, and the crowd roars in response. “Jacob’s Ladder is up next, unit 119. Grab a towel, and stay tuned.” With a leap off the hood of my truck, her boots splash in the mud flowing over the gravel road. She strides back into the unit and claps Ryan on the back.
Mia weaves through the crowd, leading the pack back to the shed where Raven and the band are breaking out a bottle of Jack.
“You guys killed that,” Mia screams, wrapping her arms around Raven. “We were up to ninety-two thousand viewers on the LiveStream.”
The guys shout in celebration, banging on the metal walls of the unit and howling into the storm as they pass the bottle around.
“These shots are golden,” Mia adds, tapping buttons on her camera. “Check this out.” She walks toward me, swiping through photos of the band, with the crowd leaping and dancing to the beat. She pauses on one, glancing up at me as I study it.
The girl with the purple hair, mid-twirl, with her wet hair and purple skirt flared out around her. She has her arms up, eyes closed, her boots splashing in the mud amidst the sea of wet bodies surrounding her. Lighting snakes through the sky overhead, defining the contours of the clouds and bathing the crowd in its sudden flash of pale light. I shake my head, cursing softly.
“You’re amazing. These guys don’t deserve you.”
She laughs. “I know. I’ll have the website updated tomorrow.Sally Hill from Nowhere Girl called too, they want to play sometime next month if we have a spot.”
I smile. “Oh, we have a spot for Sally Hill if I have to rebuild the unit myself.”
“Who’s Sally Hill?” Ivy asks, and I look up. She’s leaning against the frame of the large open door, one boot propped on the frame behind her, watching the rain as water drips off the pleats in her skirt.
“Nowhere Girl is a band out of Birmingham,” I answer. “A badass, fast metal band. You think the turnout is good tonight, wait until we start advertising her show.”
She glances over at me, an amused smile lifting at the corners of her mouth.
“It’s incredible that you’re able to get all these bands to play at a half-demolished storage facility,” she comments.
I laugh. “We have a reputation. Sometimes you get tired of playing small gigs with capacity maximums and overpriced drinks. It’s a different experience. More music, less bullshit.”
“That should be at the top of your business card.”
“Did you like the show?” I ask, fishing for compliments and needing her to keep talking to me.
“High energy. Great music. I got to punch a guy.” She nods approvingly. “It was the highlight of my day.” I grin and take a pull from the bottle of Jack as it’s passed to me, then walk it over to her. She presses the bottle to her lips, takes a generous drink, and hands it back. “I’ve never been in a mosh pit with so many people in flip-flops. You people are nuts.”
My head falls back in laughter.
“Welcome to Florida rock culture,” I manage when I can pull myself together.
“Ivy,” Mia asks, sidestepping the drum set to take the bottle back from me. “Steph just ran up to talk to the Renegade Radio rep. Can you ask her if she still needs a ride home? I’m quickly moving into Uber territory.”
Ivy nods and strides back out into the rain. I move to follow her, but Nick grabs me.
“Give me a hand with these cases. I’m not loading anything until they dry off, but I need to get them off the floor in case it floods.” I reluctantly agree and help clean up.
I pile several equipment crates along the back wall, knowing it never floods that high because of the slight slope. As I reach the front of the unit again, I glance out toward the covered area where the Radio rep was standing, but the booth is empty. I narrow my eyes, searching for her through the storm.
Across the parking lot, I finally spot her walking toward a familiar black Tahoe. A man walks beside her, his hand settled possessively on her lower back. A muscle ticks in my jaw.
It’s Evan.
He opens the truck door for her, and she climbs in. Mia steps up beside me, following the direction of my gaze.
