Page 17 of Hard Rock Fling
The lump of fear and worry in my gut melted away, something else taking its place. Something hot. Something hungry. The look in Ian's eyes was unlocking something deep inside me. I wanted to know exactly what sort of dirty things he was thinking. I wanted him to tell me. To show me.
As long as I kept my heart guarded against his charm, surely there was no harm in letting him flirt with me. And perhaps more.
"It sounds like a challenge."
If I took this job, maybe I'd get the chance.
"I'm in."
Chapter Seven
As a Darkest Days fan, sitting in on a jam session was a dream come true. I was allowed to watch the band practice their songs a few more times before recording a final version.Forinspiration, August had said.
It was infinitely better than seeing them perform on stage. During a concert you were stuck behind a barrier lined with bodyguards. You were lucky if you got close enough to see their faces and were forced to listen through booming, staticky speakers.
Watching the guys sing and play in person was breathtaking. It was so raw, soreal. They didn't need to put on their rock star personas to win over fans. They could be themselves.
I quickly learned whatbeing themselvesactually meant. They didn't have to act like bad ass sex gods. They were a bunch of rowdy, twenty-something boys playing around and making music with their friends.
Ian and Damon were nearly uncontrollable. They wouldn't sit still, dashing from one corner of the room to the other, jumping up on tables and kicking over chairs with bursts of laughter.
They finished one particularly intense and awe-inspiring dueling guitar solo, then lifted their instruments high above their heads, as if prepared to swing them down.
"No— Wait—!" several assistants cried, not wanting The Twins to smash up another pair of guitars.
They snickered and lowered the instruments, giving each other a fist bump.
"Damian, chill the fuck out and play your goddamn instruments."
August spoke the admonishing words with a slight smile, so I knew he wasn't angry with them. Mildly annoyed, perhaps, but indulgent in the way a parent would be.
"You're supposed to be professionals. Gifted with ungodly talent. Stop acting like three year olds hopped up on sugar."
"Where's the fun in that?" They both said at the same time, grinning.
I was surprised to see August much more animated than usual. Of course, that was because he had to act the tyrant and herd the other band members.
It made me wonder how old August was. Aside from Cameron and his sometimes-baby face, August looked the youngest, but acted like the oldest. Being a universally acknowledged musical genius probably matured a person.
Noah sang with a fiery passion, growling low in his chest. In the quiet moments between words his eyebrows drew down into a frown. The lead singer was wound up, muscles tense with a scowl on his face. Then the lyrics picked up again and he let loose, switching between erotic crooning and despondent wailing. Noah didn't look upset at anything in particular — except when Cameron started bugging him.
"You keep frowning like a grumpy old man, your face is gonna to stay like that," Cameron said in a mocking tone.
Noah glared at Cameron, who just laughed and looked down at his bass guitar, pretending to focus on the music. Noah's dark expression should have been disconcerting. Instead, it was oddly endearing. Like a kitten with his fur puffed up.
I made sure to keep that thought to myself. I was sure Noah would murder me if he knew I compared him to an angry kitten.
There were a handful of other interns attending the recording sessions, mostly from social media and public relations, taking candid behind-the-scenes photos and videos of the band for promotional material.
Whoever hired the interns didn't do a good job weeding out the obsessive fangirls. They giggled and blushed, cooing at whomever paid them the most attention.
I sat in a corner as far away from the action as I could, not wanting to be a disturbance. I was there to get a better feel for their music, to help my creative process.
I shouldn't have bothered. Ian's eyes were constantly on mine, always flicking to me in the quiet moments between his antics. He would throw me an irresistible look, eyes twinkling with sinful glee, and make provocative innuendos meant only for me.
I ignored him as best as I could, not wanting to encourage him. The interns pouted and glared at me whenever Ian made a comment and doubled their efforts to gain his attention. The last thing I needed was jealous colleagues.
The other band members paid it no mind, clearly used to Ian's flirtations. Except for Damon. Whenever he noticed Ian's teasing and my flushed cheeks, his lips twisted in a mildly disgruntled expression. I wondered why. Was it because I was only showing interest in his brother? Clearly most other girls, especially fans and groupies, didn't care whether they snagged Damon or Ian. Either one of The Twins was good enough. Was Damon jealous I wasn't interested in him, too?
