He turned and headed for the exit. A few people had noticed who he was and were gawping at him.

I flung my arms around both Nial and Rich. “Can you believe it? Can you fucking believe it?”

“No,” Nial said. “I really can’t. You might have to tell me again.”

“We’re going to be on stage! Five tracks. Five tracks to play to the crowd.”

“Supporting the always bloody awesome Scarlet Men.” Rich pressed his lips on mine. “Talk about right place, right time.”

I laughed, a wonderful light sound that lifted me up with the clouds. “Come on, we need to get ready.”

Rich turned and raised his hand in the direction of DJ Dizzy.

Dizzy saw him, copied the gesture then did a thumbs up.

Chapter Five

“I’m not so sure about this.” I pressed my lips together. They were glossy with bright pink lipstick. “The crowd is huge and wild.”

“It’ll be fine.” Rich squeezed my hand. “You’ll be great, they’ll love you.”

“They’ll love you too.” I dragged in a deep breath. The air was heavy and humid, and swollen gun-metal gray clouds hovered on the horizon. “Both of you.”

“You’re the star of the show.” Nial stooped and kissed my cheek. “It’ll be you they’re looking at.”

“That doesn’t help.” My nerves were swirling, as if my insides were soup that had been vigorously stirred.

“Hey, Sliders, how you doing?” Chris appeared, his bandmate in tow, Jed Stephenson, guitarist.

“She’s got pre-gig jitters,” Rich said.

Chris took my free hand and clasped it between each of his. “And if you didn’t, I’d say there was something wrong with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m a wreck each time I go on in front of a crowd this big, it’s daunting, scary, overwhelming.”

“Er, yeah.” I swallowed. “And you’re not helping either.”

He chuckled. “You wait until five minutes before I’m due on and see the state I’m in.”

“I can’t imagine it.”

“It’s true, isn’t it, Jed?”

“It sure is.” Jed had an American twang. His arms were full sleeve tats and he wore a black Harley wife-beater teamed with jeans ripped at the knees. Like Chris, Rich, and Nial he was handsome, but in a biker, don’t-mess-with-me-or-you’ll-regret-it way.

“They’ll adore you.” Jed raised his eyebrows and looked me up and down. “What’s not to adore?”

I squirmed under the scrutiny of all four guys, but if I couldn’t cope with them, how the heck was I going to cope with thousands of people staring my way?

The interim music coming from the stage stopped. It was showtime.

“Break a leg,” Jed said, nodding at the steps.

“Thanks, I think.” I swallowed. Damn, was my throat dry? Was I getting an infection, a cold? The flu? Great timing.

“Here.” Chris handed me a can of soda. “A few sips and you’ll be all set.”