Page 63 of Her Dark Angel

“Are you ready?” I ask, not knowing what else to say.

Nash’s eyes leave my face to trail down the length of my body. Given the occasion, I detoured from my usual fashion style of loose jeans and cute sweaters because I felt they didn’t fit the vibe of a rock concert. Instead, I dug through my closet and found a pair of black jeans, a cropped white tank top, and a black leather jacket that unintentionally matches the one hanging from Nash’s broad shoulders.

“As ready as I can be,” he responds quietly, his chest rising and falling at a pace that is too quick for a normal heartbeat.

I rest my hand on his forearm in an attempt to comfort him, not because people are watching us. It’s obvious how big of a moment this is for Nash and the band, so I understand his feelings are all over the place.

“It’s okay to be nervous.”

Nash swallows hard and nods, his eyes dropping to my lips as he continues to fight whatever battle is happening inside him at this moment.

I fight the urge to squirm under his intense gaze. Why does it feel like we’re the only two people in the room right now? As we stand here together, so close our chests are almost touching, I forget about the crowd on the other side of the curtain or Nash’s management team standing nearby.

All I can focus on is the man in front of me and the tingling in the tips of my fingers where our skin meets. I shouldn’t feel this way, I know that. But I can’t seem to fight the emotions at this moment.

“I know,” Nash says after a moment, his eyes flicking between me and my hand on his arm. “I just… thank you for coming.”

“Of course.” I offer him a smile in the hopes it’ll ease his nerves, but he continues to stare down at me with an emotion in his eyes I can’t seem to read.

Before I can utter another word, his soft lips crash down on mine, stealing my breath away. Instinctually, my eyes flutter shut as I lean into the kiss. The heat of our mouths pressed together sends shock waves across every inch of my body, lighting my skin on fire and making my head so dizzy I can’t seem to think straight.

In the back of my mind, I know he kissed me for the benefit of the people watching around us. We need to keep up appearances. However, I can’t help but feel this kiss was intentional and not for the cameras. But as a way for Nash to take his mind off what he’s about to do.

I can see a panic attack coming from a mile away, and I have no doubt one would’ve ripped right through Nash if he hadn’t kissed me.

Kissing each other when we’re on the brink of an attack seems to be the new norm for us.

Nash pulls away, leaving me breathless. A smirk spreads across his lips as he lifts his right hand to my face. I can’t tear my eyes away from him as he runs his fingers down the side of my cheek, the cold metal of the rings cooling my inflamed skin.

“Enjoy the show, little devil.”

And with that, he turns on his heels and walks to stand with the rest of the band at the edge of the stage. The lights in the stadium dim and screams erupt from the mouths of one hundred thousand people.

My fingers fly into my ears to protect them from the onslaught of screaming voices as Dark Angel steps out onto the stage and rock music sounds across the stadium.

I step toward the curtain to get a better view of the band. Axel is slamming his drumsticks so hard against the kit with their logo etched across the front of it that I’m afraid the wood will splinter under the weight of the force he’s using. Hudson and Luca are headbanging as they pace the stage, strumming their guitars.

And Nash… woah. He comes across as a cocky and confident man when you first meet him, and that attitude is only intensified when out on that stage. Not to mention his deep voice and the way it vibrates through my entire body as he belts out the lyrics to the song.

As the fans scream louder for him, his grin widens. Same with the rest of the band. The way they gaze at each other across the stage, with joy emanating in their eyes, it’s clear how much they love performing, especially with each other. They were born to do this.

Seeing Nash in this environment is something I never thought I would witness, but it makes me appreciate his craft more and the life he has built for himself.

How can this be the same man who doesn’t believe in his talent? He truly is the master at masking, isn’t he?

As he walks up and down the stage, I don’t miss the girl close to the front of the baracade sitting on someone’s shoulders flashing him her bare breasts. My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. Holy shit—she’s as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning.

Does that happen often at rock concerts? I’ve never had the chance to attend one before, so I wouldn’t know what happens during them.

I find my head bopping to the beat of each song. I’m aware of the smile turning up my lips as I watch Nash own the stage, but I don’t make a move to wipe it off.

Nash was born to be a rockstar. He has the voice, the looks, the stage presence, and above all, he has passion. That passion is what fans want to see. They want to know their favorite singer loves to perform and would do anything for their fans. If you don’t have passion, the fans will notice.

Dark Angel has a lot of fucking passion. It’s so clear from where I’m standing.

Halfway through the show, fat droplets of rain land on the stage, followed closely by a downpour that soaks everyone in the stadium. Thankfully, I’m hidden on the side of the stage with some form of shelter, but I can’t say the same for the fans or the band. But no one seems to mind as the rain soaks through the band's clothes and dampens their hair. The rain only makes the crowd more hyped as they dance and sing along to the songs, not caring one bit they’re wet.

I can’t help but smile at the sight. Who knew a rain show could be this fun?

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