14. Molly
14
MOLLY
N oah stared at me for the rest of the set, his arms and legs drumming without needing his gaze. The show was unreal. They sounded so confident up there, like they knew exactly what they were doing, and the addition of Lila’s voice and Anna’s piano was otherworldly. I’d never thought the Authors were missing anything, honestly. They had two guitars, a bass, and drums, and their sound had always been big. Combine those with Rivers’ husky, smoky voice, and you had a gorgeous avalanche of sound.
I’d actually wondered for years why they didn’t have a better recording contract than they did, with a sound like that and faces like theirs.
But now, hearing them with Anna and Lila in the mix, I thought I knew. They’d been good before, and had thousands of fans. But they were so much better with the girls that I almost couldn’t remember what they’d been like before. Lila’s voice melded perfectly with Rivers’, both of them low on the register but able to reach higher when they needed to. They sang together like they’d been born to do it, and when Anna’s keyboard joined into the background, it added a whole new dimension.
If there had been gaps in the boys’ music before, Lila and Anna filled them in, and the result was a joy to listen to.
Though I wasn’t sure how much I could believe myself on that front. I could only half-hear the music itself over the beating of my own heart in my ears. Or was it the percussion of the drums, pounding right through me while I stared at Noah? Because everything else had ceased to exist. I only saw him, his inked arms flying and chest heaving as he played, his eyes glued to my own. The sound of his drums beat down the tie that was binding us and made its way into my own body, matching my heart as it tried to bust out of my rib cage. I didn’t know what was happening or how it started, but I felt as though neither of us could break eye contact. That link was the thing keeping us both up, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stand it if he looked away.
Part of me was screaming that I was being an idiot, of course. I’d worked so hard to break away from him and find my own life. Hell, I’d gone all the way to LA just to try to figure out who I was without him, hadn’t I? And now I was right back where I’d started: standing in a crowd of admirers, caught in his aura and praying he wouldn’t look away from me again.
Desperate for him to actually see me. And making the same mistake I’d made a million times before. Setting myself up for yet another fall.
But what if it didn’t have to be that way? What if, by some miracle, I’d been gone long enough for him to actually realize how important I was in his life? What if?
The moment the last song ended, Noah stood, threw his drumsticks to the side, and left the stage. The crowd screamed and called for an encore, but he had evidently left the backstage area, too, because he didn’t come back out. Rivers turned and called him, then sent Matt backstage to look for him, but moments later, Matt was on stage again, shaking his head.
Rivers sent me a narrowed-eyed glance that didn’t require any words–he wanted me to go find my charge–and then started the encore as an acoustic set.
I didn’t respond to the glance, because that was no longer my job. I wasn’t a roadie anymore, and I didn’t know where Noah had gone or what he was doing.
Only a second later, I did. I heard a commotion to my right and turned to see something moving through the crowd. People were scattering like their lives depended on it, and I nearly drew back in fear. Was their a fire? Someone with a gun?
It was neither. Noah shoved the last person out of his way, not seeming to care that the person was in fact a fan, and got to my side before I could move.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my eyes flashing from him to the guy he’d just shoved. “That guy is here to see the band. You can’t treat your fans like that.”
When I looked back at him, ready to lecture him, he’d gotten even closer. He lowered his face toward me, his eyes glowing with blue flame. “Outside,” he muttered.
His hand found mine, sending a jolt of electricity through me, and he turned and started to tow me toward the door. I wanted to fight him, really I did. Every rebellious instinct in my body was screaming that he had no right to handle me that way, and even less right to order me around. I was here doing my job, and he was acting like I could just drop everything and follow him the way I had when we were young! The idea made me furious.
And yet this was Noah. My mind might not approve, but my body knew exactly what it wanted.
I hurried after him, ignoring the looks from the people around us, and ducked through the door when he held it open. But once we were in the parking lot, the music and lights and crowd behind us, my mind got control of my body again.
“What the fuck was that?” I asked, spinning on him. “You think you can just grab me and pull me around after you? I’m not a little kid anymore, Noah!”
He snorted at that. “Still littler than me.”
Okay, that was a fair point, but he was enormous. And I was normal-sized. “That doesn’t mean anything and you know it. It’s not my fault you were born a giant.”
To my disgust–and amusement–he took the opportunity to actually preen . “You think I’m a giant? In what way?”
I put a hand on his chest and shoved him back. “In the way that pertains to how big your ego is. Obviously.”
Instead of stepping back like I’d expected him to, he grabbed my hand and spun us so that I was the one closest to the building and he had his back to the parking lot. Then he stepped close enough to pin me there, leaning toward me until I was pressed against the building and propping one hand on the wall above me. “I’ve heard girls like big egos.”
Oh my God, was he actually hitting on me? The glint in his eyes, the smirk on his lips, and the way his gaze kept darting down to my mouth told me yes.
And I was totally falling for it.
“Girls do not like big egos,” I told him quietly. “In fact, we hate them. Guys with big egos are nothing but trouble. We run away from them.”
His voice was soft when he answered. Husky like smoke. “And yet according to you, I have a huge ego. And you’ve never run from me.”
I had. I’d run to LA to try to get myself back in order, because I’d realized I was falling for him and couldn’t stop myself. I’d run as fast as I could for a whole new life.
And look at me now. My body was vibrating with need for him and his face was all I could see. All I could feel. All the work I’d done to get myself out of this situation had vanished like dust in the wind. Hell, I couldn’t even remember what that work had been . It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but faced with this man, who’d always held my heart in his hands, none of it meant anything.
“I ran to LA, didn’t I?” I asked hoarsely.
What the fuck was wrong with my voice? What was wrong with my brain ? I was the smartest person I knew, and yet my brain had somehow become a bowl full of green Jell O.
His face went from flirty to serious, and then crafty. “You came back, though.”
I felt the sarcasm in my expression. “Only because the magazine sent me.”
I didn’t tell him how excited I’d been at the prospect of getting back on the road, or how I’d nearly lost my head when I found out I’d be following the Authors. I sure as hell didn’t tell him I’d stayed up all night before I left, trying to figure out what I was going to say to Noah when I saw him again.
Hey, his ego was already enormous. I wasn’t going to make it any bigger.
“What do you want, Noah?” I whispered, terrified of the answer. Because I’d known this guy nearly my whole life and he was the closest thing I had to family. My parents deserted me the moment they had me, and I’d spent much of my childhood trying to understand that... and every second after I turned twelve trying to forget they’d existed. They hadn’t loved me enough to keep me, and that had colored my view of the world. People didn’t stick around when you needed them. You could really only count on yourself.
But Noah had broken that rule, and once he was under my skin, I’d never been able to let him go. He was the one person I thought I could count on. And I’d never asked him what he thought of me because I’d been scared to hear that he didn’t share that same belief.
But now...
God, now I wanted to know what he wanted. I was desperate for him to want me as badly as I wanted him.
“I need your help,” he said.
All the romance melted out of the night, and I nearly hit him. Of course he’d been staring at me all night, waiting to ask for my help. Because it was always about him. I didn’t know why I was surprised.
But I was.
“My help?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice calm.
“The thing is, I have a meeting with the record execs tomorrow,” he said in a rush. “And I think I know what I’m going to say but I’m not sure. We’ll be in a meeting and it’s just me, and I don’t want to… I mean, I don’t want to…”
“You don’t want to go by yourself,” I guessed.
The look he gave me was one of a little boy who didn’t know what to do, and the rush of anger I’d had a moment earlier started to melt away. I knew that look. He only wore it when he’d gotten himself in too deep and didn’t know how to get back out again. It didn’t happen often. When it did, he hated admitting it.
As far as I knew, I was the only one he’d ever asked for a hand.
“Of course I’ll help,” I murmured, half hating myself for giving in so easily, and half pleased at the thought that he’d come to me with this request.
At that moment, music blasted out of the speakers directly above us and we jumped apart like we’d just been caught doing something we shouldn’t have been doing. We both laughed, hands to our hearts and color rushing into our cheeks, and then stopped when we realized what song was playing.
“Your favorite,” he said, grinning.
I tipped my head, grinning back, but didn’t answer. It was a slow song and one that I played whenever I was feeling particularly happy. One of those songs that lifted you up and made you feel as though the world was at your fingertips, angel wings sprouting from your back. I adored this song.
I hadn’t realized Noah knew that, though.
He gave me a long, hot look, and then extended one hand toward me. “Dance with me.”
I didn’t think about it. Didn’t take the time to let my brain talk me out of it. Because this was the most romantic thing that had ever happened to me, and the fact that it was happening with Noah just made it even better. I held my hand up and breathed out slowly when he took it, pulling me into him and placing my hands on his shoulders. His hands slid around my lower back, fingertips dipping down under the waistband of my jeans, and we started to sway slowly in the night.
“Dancing in a parking lot in the middle of the night,” he breathed, his eyes drilling into my soul. “How very cliché.”
“Terrible,” I agreed. “We’re one of those couples people write books about.”
He rolled his eyes in mock disgust. “I’m embarrassed for us. Thank God no one’s out here to see it.”
“Thank God,” I echoed.
He took my hand and used his other to spin me suddenly, the world around me going blurry, and then yanked me back into his body. And when I came to a stop, his face was a whole lot closer.
“Know what would make it even worse?” he asked.
God, he smelled of cigarettes and whiskey and everything familiar, and his face was way too close. This was a very bad idea. Like, monumentally bad.
“What?”
He didn’t answer me with words. Instead, he brought one hand up to my cheek, cupping my jaw carefully, his eyes going deep and fathomless. Then he leaned down and claimed my mouth, his lips soft and full and incredibly gentle.
And I didn’t know if I’d gone to heaven or hell or someplace in between.
I didn’t care.
I was dancing in a dark parking lot with Noah Michael, and he was kissing me. And honestly, nothing else in the world mattered more than that.