Page 86 of Reverb
Mish crinkled her nose, but she was focused on the topic Zavier let slip earlier. “I can’t believe Zav heard you sing before I did,” she said.
“I’m not sure it was really singing. More like belting out lyrics at Two Times Strong.” David shifted in the seat, his leather jacket creaking in ways that sent shivers down his spine. Always loved that sound, but good leather was pricy. This jacket he’d borrowed from Domino.
“Still.” Her fingers were in his and she smelled of vanilla. She wore a green dress that was short and sparkled when she moved. Silver and emerald jewelry and a set of patterned black stockings rounded out the look. Her heels were killer. He didn’t need to ask if she’d dance in those, given what footwear she wore on stage and how she could move around while playing.
His outfit was pretty tame for club-wear. His own jeans again, tight in a way he liked, a brilliant blue tank top, and the jacket, with all its studs and chains, like something he’d only dreamed of wearing during his punk days.
“You like Two Times Strong?” That from Ray.
David tore his attention from Mish’s legs and met Ray’s gaze. “Yeah, they’re really good. I didn’t know them before they were your opening act—well, I’d heard ‘Like A Little Light’ but didn’t know it was them. I looked them up when you said who you were touring with.”
“You like us or them better?” Domino had a smile that was just shy of a smirk, until Adrian poked him and he twisted in his seat. “Hey!”
“That’s not a nice question.” Adrian’s voice was mild. He was in dress slacks, but wore a dark red T-shirt that clung to his frame. He also sported a leather cuff similar to the one Domino wore.
It wasn’t abadquestion. David understood where Dom was coming from. “Your style is different. You’re more punk, they’re more electronic pop. But you’re also similar. Energetic, loud, and queer. I can see why people are fans of both bands. You guys are phenomenal and the more mature band, hands down. I’m not saying that for the paycheck, either. I’m out there hearing you play, same as the crowds, and I know what I’m hearing. There’s a level of skill in Twisted Wishes that’s several notches above Two Times Strong.” He glanced out the window, then focused on Domino. “But they’re gonna go places in a year or two, mark my words.”
Zavier had one of his thoughtful looks on. “Yes, they will.”
The conversation shifted to what Ray thought of Two Times Strong and how Twisted Wishes was helping them up the ladder, as much as they could.
“They’re good kids,” Mish said. “They’ll be fine.”
“And they’ve seen us navigate the pitfalls,” Zavier added.
“Or not navigate them.” Ray shook his head. “Lane’s got balls. They’ll be more fine than I was.”
A few minutes later, they pulled up to the club and stepped out into a flurry of exclamations and flashes of cell phones and more professional cameras. Mish took David’s hand.
“You know,” he murmured. “People are going to think we’re together.”
“Good,” she said.
They strode into the club with more ease than David expected, but then he should have seen that coming. He was with Twisted Wishes. Some of his bewilderment must have slipped through because Adrian huffed a laugh. “You’ll get used to it.”
Maybe. Maybe not. He’d been with corporate movers and shakers and they could unlock doors. The way Twisted Wishes moved through the world was completely different, though. Plus he had no idea what would happen when the tour ended and his contract ended, too. Business was why, ultimately, he was here, except everything professional had been thrown out the window by the woman holding his hand.
He shoved those thoughts aside when they entered the club proper. The atmosphere was loud, thumping, and both dark and bright. Mish’s laugh was worth hearing, though. “Okay,” she said. “You win. I’m glad I came.”
Ray had the biggest fucking grin on his face. He wore a mesh shirt that both hid and exposed his tattoos, and leather pants that were probably going to have to be peeled off him at the end of the night. Zavier snaked an arm around Ray and pulled him close. That man wore all black, from his pants to the tight tank top that showed off his drummer’s arms. The look in Zavier’s eyes was one David had glimpsed a few times on the bus—unguarded and intense—as if he were trying to figure out how he could possess all of Ray at once. Then it shifted and he smiled. “Care to dance?”
Ray’s expression was one of bliss and happiness. “Of course.” Then they were gone, out into a sea of people, with Adrian and Domino following a few moments later.
Mish tugged David to her. “Dance or sing?”
“Can’t we do both?” He’d give about anything to see Mish move on the dance floor and be rightthererather than down in the pit or up in one of the aisles when she shimmied her way across the stage. “Besides, I’m gonna need a drink before I sing for freaking Twisted Wishes.”
She laughed at that, and did the unthinkable—stole a kiss from him right there and then. The artificial sound of cell phone cameras whirred nearby.
Half of him was ecstatic, the other half deeply worried.
“Let’s go check on the other guys.” Mish tugged him in the same direction the other couples had gone.
Couples. They were a couple. No taking that kiss back. “Marcella’s gonna have our heads,” he said.
Oh, her smile. “I’m sure she had a statement all written up.” Mish hugged him and he wrapped an arm around her waist. In for a penny, as the saying went.
The dance floor was a colorful mass of writhing bodies, moving in time with the music. They spotted Zavier and Ray—how could you miss them moving against each other the way they were? The look on Zavier’s face was one of sublime satisfaction. Ray had his eyes closed.
