were working the crowd real hard. Music wasn’t really my thing—football was—but even I couldn’t help feel the electricity wiring through the room. And it was all because of Shawn.
The guy was good. Real good. I’d reached the front row and, instead of going backstage, kept watching the show.
Shawn had charisma. I’m sure chicks called it sex-appeal. The guy was meant to be on stage, either to play music or to deliver speeches to crowds. If he didn’t make it in music, he could go straight into politics. That realization didn’t settle well with me. That rock-god had shared Cassie’s living quarters for the last month and there were another two weeks to go. Thinking about this could make me crazy. So I decided not to think about it.
I readjusted the shoulder strap of my overnight bag, then started marching towards the passage that led backstage. It was easy enough to identify: a massive guy—the bouncer type—stood in front of it, arms crossed, face passive. I was about to show him my pass when Shawn drawled my wife’s name into the mike.
I paid attention. Acute attention. Cassie sauntered casually across the stage, her guitar strapped across her shoulders. She wore what I’d seen her wearing about a thousand times. Cowboy boots, denim skirt, a white, tight T-shirt. Her hair was down in its usual wavy way. Nothing had changed about her.
And everything had changed.
Chicks would call it charisma. I’d definitely call it sex-appeal. My jaw dropped like a fucking cartoon character. I was falling for my girl all over again.
I listened to the few words she huskily muttered to the crowd, but I didn’t really hear them. It was too much to ask my other senses to start working when my sight was already in overdrive. Just the way she leaned gently over to whisper into the microphone pushed me over the edge. It was something about the angle of her body. From where I stood, I had to look up at her, at the shape of her legs illuminated by the lights from the back of the stage and at the shadows the lights created around the strands of her hair.
When she launched into the song, my hearing switched up several gears. I’d listened to enough of her songs to recognize how she articulated her thoughts, how she rhymed and how she played.
And it didn’t take long to determine this one was about us.
The second time around
It’s the same sweet sound
Just more of you, more of me
To finally be free
I didn’t like it that she was up there with Shawn, but Cassie seemed so happy, so in her element, I pushed that small disappointment aside. After the song ended, I finally made it backstage. It was officially my first time there and I was clearly outside my comfort zone.
There was a squeal. “Josh!”
I spun round and stumbled backward because Cassie had thrown herself on me. Along with her guitar that was now sticking up against my chest. I forgot about it when her mouth landed on mine.
When we broke the kiss, she wriggled away from me, removed her guitar and set it down against the wall. “Did you hear the song? The whole song?” She was out of breath. I’d never seen her on such a high.
“I got here just before you started it. I’m sorry I missed the first act. My flight was delayed and I had to wait ages for a cab, and—”
Cassie’s mouth was back on mine. I wasn’t used to this level of PDA from her. Not that I complained. She looped her arms around my neck. She had to go on tip-toes, so I grabbed her thighs and lifted her up and around my body. People were hurrying along us and I heard a few whistles. The Neanderthal in me banged his chest.
She nudged her face slightly backwards and I swear I saw stars sparkling in her eyes.
“You smell so good,” she whispered in my ear.
“Eau de Plane, I’m afraid.”
“Come on, I thought you’d buy yourself some fancy cologne in Paris.” The stars were still there in her eyes but, for a split second, they didn’t sparkle as brightly.
We’d have to
The guy was good. Real good. I’d reached the front row and, instead of going backstage, kept watching the show.
Shawn had charisma. I’m sure chicks called it sex-appeal. The guy was meant to be on stage, either to play music or to deliver speeches to crowds. If he didn’t make it in music, he could go straight into politics. That realization didn’t settle well with me. That rock-god had shared Cassie’s living quarters for the last month and there were another two weeks to go. Thinking about this could make me crazy. So I decided not to think about it.
I readjusted the shoulder strap of my overnight bag, then started marching towards the passage that led backstage. It was easy enough to identify: a massive guy—the bouncer type—stood in front of it, arms crossed, face passive. I was about to show him my pass when Shawn drawled my wife’s name into the mike.
I paid attention. Acute attention. Cassie sauntered casually across the stage, her guitar strapped across her shoulders. She wore what I’d seen her wearing about a thousand times. Cowboy boots, denim skirt, a white, tight T-shirt. Her hair was down in its usual wavy way. Nothing had changed about her.
And everything had changed.
Chicks would call it charisma. I’d definitely call it sex-appeal. My jaw dropped like a fucking cartoon character. I was falling for my girl all over again.
I listened to the few words she huskily muttered to the crowd, but I didn’t really hear them. It was too much to ask my other senses to start working when my sight was already in overdrive. Just the way she leaned gently over to whisper into the microphone pushed me over the edge. It was something about the angle of her body. From where I stood, I had to look up at her, at the shape of her legs illuminated by the lights from the back of the stage and at the shadows the lights created around the strands of her hair.
When she launched into the song, my hearing switched up several gears. I’d listened to enough of her songs to recognize how she articulated her thoughts, how she rhymed and how she played.
And it didn’t take long to determine this one was about us.
The second time around
It’s the same sweet sound
Just more of you, more of me
To finally be free
I didn’t like it that she was up there with Shawn, but Cassie seemed so happy, so in her element, I pushed that small disappointment aside. After the song ended, I finally made it backstage. It was officially my first time there and I was clearly outside my comfort zone.
There was a squeal. “Josh!”
I spun round and stumbled backward because Cassie had thrown herself on me. Along with her guitar that was now sticking up against my chest. I forgot about it when her mouth landed on mine.
When we broke the kiss, she wriggled away from me, removed her guitar and set it down against the wall. “Did you hear the song? The whole song?” She was out of breath. I’d never seen her on such a high.
“I got here just before you started it. I’m sorry I missed the first act. My flight was delayed and I had to wait ages for a cab, and—”
Cassie’s mouth was back on mine. I wasn’t used to this level of PDA from her. Not that I complained. She looped her arms around my neck. She had to go on tip-toes, so I grabbed her thighs and lifted her up and around my body. People were hurrying along us and I heard a few whistles. The Neanderthal in me banged his chest.
She nudged her face slightly backwards and I swear I saw stars sparkling in her eyes.
“You smell so good,” she whispered in my ear.
“Eau de Plane, I’m afraid.”
“Come on, I thought you’d buy yourself some fancy cologne in Paris.” The stars were still there in her eyes but, for a split second, they didn’t sparkle as brightly.
We’d have to
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