Page 15 of Crave

Ah, fuck. They didn’t know about the scars and I sure as hell wasn’t in a confessional mode to share my past. But I also didn’t want them thinking I was too good for it or not a team player. I looked down at my black t-shirt and jeans, my usual uniform, and wondered what to do. Maybe I should’ve given JJ a head’s up that I wasn’t comfortable showing skin and tell him shit had gone down I didn’t want to discuss.

But for now? I needed to appease the group. “I got an idea,” I grunted. Heading to the bathroom, I took off my shirt and ripped off the sleeves. Then with my pocket knife, I hacked at the hem so it hung above my belt. Looking in the mirror, I decided to take off the leather belt and undo the top snap of my jeans.

Yeah. Better. It was edgier and when I moved, it looked like I was flashing my crotch. After all, I didn’t wear underwear.

I walked back out. “Better?”

They whistled and clapped and I rolled my eyes. “Assholes. Let’s do this shit.”

We finished prepping, throwing back some shots and getting worked up and rowdy for the set. By the time they announced us, I was riding high, and only wanted to give my best. The reality of my songs finally being sung to large crowds was a turn-on. My adrenalin spiked and I got on stage, grabbing the mic and guitar.

“Hey. We’re Unison. I’m Adam. Let’s play some good shit.”

The guys liked my opening so it was becoming more standard. Thank God they didn’t realize my intro came from not giving a shit. I hated catering to an audience. It was hard to separate the need I had to create good music, and the rage I felt with the unfairness of having to kiss people’s asses to give me a fair shot.

My gaze swept over the crowd as I looked for Landon and the rest of the group. I finally spotted them to the right side of the stage, all pressed together, whooping and dancing as I morphed into a hard opening number with a lot of bass and a killer octave. It was a fuck-you song to an ex, and I had fun with it, enjoying Landon’s sexy dancing with her halter top exposing her gorgeous breasts. As she leaned forward, I caught Max’s hand on her ass, leaning in to whisper in her ear. I looked away. I refused to let the guy get in my head. Landon could take care of herself and I trusted her.

I fell into each song, solidifying a love affair with the screaming crowd. Halfway through the set, I realized I was actually enjoying myself, jumping to each of the guys for their solos, moving around the stage with the mic as if it was an extension of my limbs rather than equipment. I let the music take me where it should, and poured myself into the lyrics. When I got to the song I’d written for Landon, I ached to sing directly to her, but didn’t want anyone to suspect. We weren’t ready. I watched as a tiny smile play on her lush lips and knew she was thinking the same.

The set ended. I was dripping sweat and flying high like I’d smoked weed, chased pills, and drank a bottle of whiskey. “It’s only getting better, man,” Xavier shouted. The screams from the audience kept going, even though we’d done our final call. “Fucking better than coke.”

“Fucking better than sex,” Lance shouted back.

I laughed, buzzing hard from the whole experience. Xavier was right, though. Each time I got on stage, it got easier, and I got more addicted. I wondered what would happen if we really took off. I’d never intended being in the spotlight, but if I had no choice, would this be a bad life to live?

Before, I’d say hell no. Now? Things were getting foggy.

I texted the group that I’d meet them at the back table when I done. After everyone had changed and chased more shots, I hung back, hoping Landon would come see me. I heard the door open and turned, a grin on my face. “’Bout time you?—”

“Hey, baby.” A curvy brunette with green eyes, big breasts, and an ass like a Kardashian stood in front of me. “Waiting for me?” she drawled.

I stared, taken aback for a few seconds. Ballsy to just walk in here, but maybe I’d need to get used to this, and learn to handle it. I smiled politely. “Waiting for someone else,” I said firmly.

“I’m Meg. Great show.” Her tongue licked her bottom lip. “You’re pretty hot.”

I almost laughed. Any guy would be grateful but I only wanted to see Landon. “Thanks. I have to meet some people if you’ll excuse me.”

Her lips quirked. “Wow, you’re polite, too. I looked you up. Heard you’re hitting LA. You’re gonna get big.” Her gaze dropped. “Bet you already are, though.”

Holy shit, she had some moves. “Yeah, I am. But I’m saving myself.”

She gave a startled laugh and strolled seductively toward me. Before I could step back, she’d plastered herself against me, her breasts lifted in pure invitation, her fuck-me eyes practically devouring me like a she-wolf.

Meg was a little scary. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” she growled, stabbing her claw-like fingernails into my hair and grabbing on tight.

Oh, hell no.

I firmly took her wandering hands, grasped them in my wrist, and twisted them behind her back. Her eyes widened. “I’m meeting someone,” I said again. “Next time, ask before you touch. Be polite.”

She gasped.

I began to push her back, but a low noise rose to my ears and I looked up.

Ah, fuck.

Landon was standing in the doorway.

Chapter Eight

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