Page 2 of Erik

When he swatted the camera away, swirling to join bassist Logan Maine, Erik’s chocolate gaze locked on mine.

My heart skipped a few beats as my world turned on its axis to settle upside down, and my lungs forgot to breathe. On the verge of fainting, I sucked in air in a loud gasp.

Nick’s voice echoed in the stadium in the flat tone of a PA announcer, “Ladies and gents, forgive the interruption. Our lead singer will resume our programming as soon as he remembers the fucking lyrics to our next song.”

Erik blinked a couple of times breaking the invisible bond that had connected us for a spell. My legs wobbled, so I found support against Hadley’s strong ones.

“Are you okay?” He shouted into my ear to be heard over the band.

I nodded a couple of times unable to articulate coherent words and we resumed enjoying the concert. However, my mind sailed through the next songs as I floated on cloud nine fueled by Erik’s seductive voice.

When the spotlight shone on Logan, I guessed the band would play a set of compositions by the bass player. I was right. Erik plopped his fine butt on the edge of the drum riser and received an acoustic guitar from a stagehand. As he accompanied his band mates supporting Logan’s vocals, his eyes roamed the audience until they didn’t. They seemed to zero in on me, plunging my soul into a whirlpool of emotions again. I shook my head to dissipate the illusion brought about by the bright lights and heady music.

Erik Crawford is not, I repeat, is not tilting his head and waving his hand to indicate he’ll be waiting for me in the backstage area after the concert.I scolded myself.

Glancing about to confirm he was communicating with some top-model lookalike in attendance, I realized he was not. A swarm of kamikaze butterflies crashed around in my stomach. My heart thudded against my throat.

Hadley stooped to shout in my ear, “What the fuck? He wants to meet you backstage?”

I snapped my head back to probe his green eyes. No mischief in them. I mumbled, “So it’s real?”

He cupped his ear. “What?”

I sliced the air with a hand. “Never mind.”

He nudged my shoulder. “Tell me you’re not considering doing this.”

I frowned. “Why not? Talk about a dream come true with a side order of extra awesomesauce.”

He slanted his head, eyes rounding, lips curving on the corners. “Erik Crawford is the kingpin in Bad Boy City.”

“So?” I inquired when he didn’t elaborate.

He raised his hands with a shrug. “I don’t want you to get disappointed. You know, the higher the pedestal, the worse the fall.”

I dropped my shoulders as I recognized the truth in his words. “Damn it, why do you have to be so sensible?”

With a belly laugh, he added, “Guess your good senses rubbed off on me. I used to be the wild one in this friendship, remember?”

When Logan’s set finished, Erik returned to his place under the spotlight. During the performance of their oldest hits, he famously picked people from the audience to climb on stage and hang with the band. When he pointed toward Hadley and I, the butterflies made an encore in my belly. He directed an assistant with shouts and gestures, but I couldn’t make out the words. A couple of burly men wearing jackets, with ‘security’ printed on their backs in bright yellow, popped out in front of me behind the metal barrier. My legs gave away from under me, and I grabbed Hadley’s forearm. The men fished another redheaded from the crowd to my left and hoisted her onto the stage.

Erik shook his head at the assistant, pointing again toward the audience, in the general direction where I stood, but the other man shrugged in response, waving at the young woman strolling down the stage.

Her green minidress hugged narrow hips, and highlighted her cleavage, revealing large breasts encased in a lacy red bra. Erik’s lips curved in a smug smile as she started to cover the distance to him swaying her hips like a belly dancer.

He mirrored her movements, meeting her halfway. “What’s your name, hon?”

The crowd oohed and aahed. The lucky woman giggled into the mic he thrusted at her, “Carlotta. Carlotta Driver.”

Erik smiled, inviting her, “Let’s raise that fucking roof, baby.”

He rested a hand on her ass cheek and wedged his leg between hers. They twisted and rolled their hips in a sensual dance that matched to a tee the lyrics he was belting.

When she sways her hips, I go wild

As she shakes her hair, I just smile

‘Cause I know she’s mine

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