Justin except that I’ve inked him. But somehow, perhaps because I asked her to come, she’s already rooting for me to hook up with him. Or at least with one of the band members. Not sure what’s with everyone trying to get me laid. Okay, it’s possible I’m a bit uptight. But sex isn’t going to fix that. I’m not even sure it’s fixable. I’m planning to stick to my plan. Which is to watch the band, say hello to Justin, and get the heck home.
Holly has started flirting with the guys next to us when the lights dim and the dance music dies. The empty stage lights up, then darkens, causing the crowd to cheer. A smoky blue spotlight follows the guitar player as he walks to the edge of the stage, strumming softly. Another light shines behind Justin, standing in front of the microphone. The outline of his body hints at his masculine beauty and has me, and probably half the crowd, wishing another light would flick on to show him fully. He begins to sing softly, a few lines about keeping in the dark, then suddenly loud drums join in and the guitar escalates. Justin’s voice grows loud and angry, matching the growing volume of the guitar.
“Oh, I love this song!” Holly shouts in my ear.
“What is it?” I shout back.
“Foo Fighters! ‘Pretender’!” she yells, bouncing to the music.
Everyone’s moving and bobbing their heads to the beat. We’re crushed into the mass. I’m shoulder to shoulder with not only Holly but also the girl next to me.
I drain half my beer and let my buzz coax me into the crowd’s enthusiasm. The band sounds good. I’m guessing Justin sounds good, but it’s hard to tell. I’ve never understood shouting songs. But holding the microphone and standing in a wide stance with a boot on the edge of the stage, Justin looks as rocker hot as his silhouette in shadow promised. He’s in an unbuttoned white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his tattoos and muscular chest add to the display. I’ve never had as harsh of an opinion of tribal art as Todd, but I’m starting to like it.
During the guitar solo, Justin steps to the side and shuffles the microphone stand between his hands. Then he comes back, sets one boot on the edge of the stage, and goes back to shouting, coming across as commanding and sexy.
The song ends. Holly turns to me with a dazzled gaze. “They’re freakin’ good. And they’re all hot.” She takes a gulp of beer. “Which one do you like again?”
My gaze throws darts at her.
She chuckles.
“Everyone feeling good tonight?” Justin shouts into the microphone, and the crowd shouts back. “Then you must be ready for some Artic Monkeys!”
The crowd roars back again as the song starts with a rolling guitar riff, then the drums kick in, and Justin starts singing.
Once again, I don’t know the song, but with this second one it’s evident that Justin can sing, not just shout. Actually, he’s quite good, his voice sounds low and sexy. Before I can ask, Holly shows me a picture of the original single on her iPhone while she dances. The title ‘R U Mine?’ sends a shiver down my spine, because when Justin sings it, it feels like he’s asking me the question.
Obviously, the alcohol already has me stupid.
Holly and I dance next to each other while we watch. Well, I mostly watch Justin, but yeah, Holly is right. The guitar player is darkly hot in a button-up but open shirt. His dark hair has this way of falling over one eye that is sexy. The bassist is super cute as he keeps winking at girls in the front, nodding his dark buzzed head, and bouncing to the rhythm. He’s dressed in a sleeveless T, and his muscular arms almost dwarf the bass guitar he plays. The drummer is lean, muscled, and graceful in a black tank top and long black shorts. His shoulder-length hair whips around him, but in between drumbeats, when his hair flies back, his lean angular face looks intense.
As we continue to watch, I’m super impressed not only with Justin’s singing, but also by how at ease, how professional he appears onstage.
They play more songs. We watch and dance. Every minute, I fall more in lust with Justin. It’s hard not to. He moves with the music flawlessly, changing his posture and his movements to match the tone of each song. I can’t help imagining he’s singing to me, even though most of the girls in the crowd probably feel the same way. I’m buzzed and my hormones are flying, so I’m going with it. Justin
About the sixth song in, Holly goes on a beer run and leaves me alone. The guys she was next to, and flirting with, scoot over and ask me my name. I murmur it without glancing at them. The closest one compliments my arm sleeve, but busy watching the band—Justin mostly—I mouth a thanks but then ignore them.
Holly comes back carrying two beers and a shot of tequila as the band takes a break. People shuffle around. Others leave—either to get drinks or wait in the bathroom line—and we’re soon less than ten feet from the stage.
I force the shot down with a grimace, causing Holly to laugh. I stuff both my old beer cup and the little plastic shot cup in her huge purse as revenge. Then we wait while my head starts seriously buzzing. She’s soon talking with the new guys next to us while I sway with the dance music playing over the speakers and watch stagehands rearrange the setup.
Finally, the lights lower and the recorded music fades out. The band comes back out along with two younger people following. One holds a violin, the other a small guitar.
The roar of the crowd grows deafening.
Clutching an acoustic guitar, Justin moves to the microphone. He views the mob of hooting fans. “As soon as you hear this tune, I’m sure you’ll recognize it, but…” He pauses as his eyes meet mine. We stare at each other and neither of us moves. His lids lower before he lifts his gaze back to the crowd. I’m trying to figure out whether my inebriated imagination is in overdrive or if he really just paused onstage for a minute to stare at me.
“This is a first for us and we need a little help.” He gestures to the side of the stage, where the girl and guy stand, looking nervous. “Not only will I be playing with Romeo but let me introduce Jane, who’s playing the violin. And Robert, who plays a mean mandolin.”
He steps away from the microphone and the crowd grows quiet. The others in the band watch him until he taps on the stem of his acoustic guitar. Robert and Justin start strumming. I recognize the melody, but I can’t place it, especially since I’m buzzed up and completely enamored.
Justin leans closer to the microphone and starts singing.
Everyone else fades into a shadowy background. His voice and the music catch in my chest. I’m trapped in the moment. Caught in his intense gaze, I’m lost as his lush voice wraps around me. There’s only the music and the sudden, fierce connection between us.
Holly nudges me with her elbow and yells in my ear, “It’s like he’s singing to you! Fucking ‘Iris’! Unbelievable! These lyrics are hot!…” I feel her jump up and down next to me. “It’s like he really, really wants you to see past the rocker to the man inside!”
I don’t comment. I don’t look away from Justin’s gaze either. But Holly is right. Though I can’t concentrate on the words while he stares at me, I understand the soulful question in his voice—and his heartfelt plea hits me hard. I’ve seen glimpses behind his playboy persona, but as we stare at each other, I want to peel back the layers, reach in, and immerse myself in the real Justin, the one who I’m beginning to realize hides.
He sings and stares as I sway and melt.
Oh crap. He’s the snake charmer and I’m the snake mesmerized by his melody.
And mesmerized I am.
Holly yells something else, but I can’t pull my attention from Justin. The band plays, he sings, and I drown in the emotional waves that are flowing between us. A crashing sensation washes over me again and again. Each time he sings the song’s soulful refrain, each time he glances down at his guitar for a second then back at me, I’m drenched with longing. It’s not lust, exactly, though that is there in the surge. A fierce want I lost long ago—the sense that there is someone out there balancing me—fills me. Someone who understands me. Someone made for me.
And that someone right now feels like the man singing onstage.
With each passing note, he has me closer to believing it’s true.
Want crashes into me as his voice rises in volume during the last refrain.
