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In front and to his left was a hot shaggy blond guy stroking an electric guitar, and to his right stood an incredibly sexy woman with sleek dark hair that rippled down her back to her bum, thin braids artfully interspersed to hold the bulk away from her face.
They paced back and forth, plucking strings, and checking plugs, calling to someone backstage, repositioning microphones, and ensuring amps were in the right place.
“I guess he’s going to miss the beginning. I don’t know how many friends he’s coming with, but there are only two other chairs. Should we see if we can get more chairs?”
Junie looked around. “Not likely. It’s pretty packed.”
All the front tables huddled closely together and were filled. I felt bad now that we even had two extra chairs, never mind wanting to look for more. Beside the front tables were tall tables with barstools, all occupied. The rest of the floor offered standing room only and there wasn’t a lot of that left either.
Over the music in the background, and the buzz of conversation, I could feel the anticipation of the crowd. I looked around again, hoping to see him. It couldn’t be that hard, he was bound to stand out in a crowd, any crowd.
“How will they find us?”
“Babe, he reserved a table. The hostess will bring him over. I’ve never seen you so invested. You’ve got it bad.”
“Hush, Junie!” I hissed.
The gorgeous bassist stepped up to the center microphone.
Her raspy voice seduced the crowd. “How’s everybody doing tonight?”
The crowd whooped in response.
“Yeah!” She smiled big. “That’s what I want to hear! We’re Drivetrain and we’ve got a great lineup for you tonight. Going to get you rockin’ to some Pearl Jam…” The crowd cheered. “A little Staind..” More hollering. “And we’ll throw in some Nickelback to keep things interesting.”
Junie hooted and pumped her little fist, calling even more attention to herself and me as well. The bassist moved back into position and the opening strains of Pearl Jam’s ‘Alive’ blasted out as six foot four inches of musical male magnificence entered from off stage and strolled towards the center microphone plucking the strings of the sleek electric guitar slung low across his hips.
I grasped Junie’s arm and she turned to me, her face split into a grin that dropped off completely when she got a look at mine.
“Willa!” She panicked, grasping my arms. “What is it?”
She looked around frantically, trying to pinpoint the threat. I shook her arm to regain her attention.
“Junie, it’s him.” I nodded toward the stage.
Her head swiveled back and forth between the vision on the stage and my face, then she crumpled back into her chair laughing so hard her face scrunched up like a raisin. And she still looked good. How can someone look good scrunched up like a raisin? Only Junie.
She sat forward again and threw her arm over my shoulder.
“Give up, give in, surrender...There’s no point in fighting,” she screamed, “He’s a fucking Viking!”
She stood up and shimmied her hips. I stared at Barrett. In faded jeans that fit in all the right places he looked even tastier than he usually did. So many facets to this man. Did I really know him at all?
I grabbed my glass and knocked it back, eyed hers just as she turned to me, nabbed it out from under her hand and tossed that back as well. She laughed, clapped, and hollered with the rest of the bar.
Then he began to sing. His growly voice surging through the speakers, surrounding me, pinning me to my seat and lifting me higher at the same time.
Junie’s eyebrows shot up and she yelled, “Your man just gave me an orgasm!”
Her comment made me blush, which was a good thing. It brought some much-needed color back into my face. Barrett's mouth was nearly wrapped around the microphone, and I wanted it wrapped around something of mine. Anything. Although, I had suggestions.
“You have a Viking veterinarian who sings like a god. You think that drummer might be an accountant or something equally steady that would make him low risk?”
I eyed the drummer. Spiky black hair, angular face, full lips, heavy eyebrows, and dark eyes. He was lean but muscled, and his energy was off the charts.
“I doubt it. Why?”
Junie wiggled on her chair. “I’d like some of that adrenalin let loose on me.”
