Chapter Five
EFFA
It’s eerie here at night.
Dark and deserted, the vibrant energy from earlier is long gone, replaced by the occasional bang of a loose door caught in a strange breeze.
I’m not even sure Mercs is still here.
And I’m starting to feel like an idiot for coming back.
I could have been partying with everyone else.
Maybe there was something weird in that joint that scrambled my decision-making.
“Effa, is there a reason we’re wandering around this place in the pitch black with only a flashlight?” Raoul asks, voice low.
I gnaw on my bottom lip, glancing up at him. Hopefully, his night vision is elite, because this place is giving me the creeps. As we round the corner, we both pause when we notice that the light in the crew room is on.
“Wait here. No one should be here,” Raoul growls, instantly on alert.
“Raoul, I think it’s—”
Too late. He’s off, pepper spray in hand.
I chase after him, but the clunk of my thigh-high platform boots makes stealth impossible.
“Put your hands up,” Raoul yells as he storms into the room.
A muffled grunt follows.
“What the fuck!” Mercs’ voice booms.
I skid around the corner to see Raoul with Mercs bent over the counter, arm twisted behind his back. “Raoul, stop!” I shout.
Raoul glances at me, startled, just as Mercs lifts his head. His eyes widen when he sees me, and Mercs exhales sharply.
“What are you doing here?” Raoul asks, still holding Mercs in a firm lock.
“I’m staying here instead of the hotel.” Mercs groans. “Geez… Effa, will you get your goon off me?”
I rush over, placing a hand on Raoul’s arm. “It’s okay, this is Mercs, our new Lighting Director.”
Raoul lets go, and Mercs slumps down onto the counter before slowly rising to his feet, rubbing his shoulder.
“Shit, sorry,” Raoul mutters, raking a hand through his hair. “Thought you were a crazed fan hiding out or something. Can’t be too careful with my girls.”
I give him a half-smile.
Mercs nods, still rotating his shoulder. “It’s fine. I get it. But… what are you doing here?”
They both look at me, waiting.
I grin. “Well, that’s the thing. We’re here for you.”
“We are?” Raoul asks.
“You are?” Mercs echoes.
“Yep. Tank said you might still be around, and I didn’t want you to miss out. Thought maybe you’d want to come back to the party with me?”
Mercs gives a small smirk and turns, strolling back to the sofa. “Nah, I’m not really the party type. But thanks for the offer.”
I huff and throw my hip to the side. “Then at least come back to the hotel. Let me get you a proper bed, something not held together with duct tape and hope.”
He glances around the room. “This works for me.”
I cross the floor and sink into the sofa beside him. The cushion groans under us. This is definitely not built for comfort.
He studies me, brow furrowed. “Why are you sitting down? Shouldn’t you be heading back?”
I shake my head and settle in, crossing my legs. “I’m my own woman. Who needs a VIP party when we can have our own here?”
Mercs’ breath catches, and I realize how that might have sounded.
I raise both hands in mock surrender. “Hold on, cowboy. I didn’t mean that. I just meant… if you’re not going back, then I’m not leaving you alone. Simple.”
He blinks. “What? Why?”
“Because I’m freaking nice, that’s why.” I flash him a cheeky grin.
Mercs looks to Raoul, who’s still hovering near the counter.
“Okay, well… thank you? I guess,” he says, uncertain.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll be in the green room if you need me,” Raoul offers.
“Thanks, Raoul. I appreciate it.”
With a nod, he heads out, leaving the two of us alone.
The air shifts.
It tightens—heavy with something I can’t quite name, like static just before a storm, and my skin prickles.
I glance at Mercs. His expression is taut. Perhaps, he’s feeling it too.
“So…” he murmurs, and I find myself staring at his lips. When his tongue swipes across the bottom one, I force myself to look up, only to meet a glint in his eyes. He caught me.
“What’s it like being Effervescent, one of the world’s biggest rock stars?” he asks, his voice tinged with sarcasm.
I arch a brow. “Are you mocking me?”
He grins. “No. Actually, I’m kind of in awe. You’re so… tiny. And yet that voice? It’s shocking. And sexy, if I’m being honest.”
“You think I’m sexy?”
“I said your voice is sexy—”
“Oh, so I’m not sexy?”
He grits his teeth, trying to hide a smile. “Fuck. I’m in a lose-lose here, huh?”
“Well,” I tease. “If you admit I’m sexy, I might tell you something in return.”
The tension thickens, crackling with heat. My skin hums as our eyes lock.
Mercs leans slightly closer, breaths slower now. “Tell me what, exactly?”
I reach over and place a hand on his knee. A subtle jolt rushes up my arm at the contact.
“That I think you’re sexy as hell too.”
A slow smile creeps across his face, and his Adam’s apple bobs with a heavy swallow.
“You’re not the shy type, are you, Effa?”
I shrug. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“You looked great on stage tonight,” he says, his voice lower. “I found it hard to focus. You were made for the spotlight.”
I smile, settling deeper into the sofa but keeping my hand on his knee. “Performing comes naturally to me. I was born to entertain. The singing, though, took work, with years of vocal training. But I had an incredible coach. She made me who I am.”
He relaxes more into the sofa, his expression softening. “Who was she?”
“Charlotte Scott. We call her Lettie. She’s Alana’s mum. Once she became my coach, she and my dad got… close. Eventually, he left my mum for Lettie.” I pause. “My mum left Nimbin after that. Never came back. I was ten.”
He winces, while the memory tugs at my chest.
The image of that note on the kitchen counter is still vivid. I shake it off and continue, “Anyway, Dad and Lettie got married. Instant family… me, Dad, Lettie, and Alana.”
He gives me a half-smile but stays quiet.
“It was rough for a while. But Alana and I worked it out, thanks to Kristy.”
I see the recognition in his eyes—Kristy from the band.
“We stopped fighting, started jamming. Alana played keys, I sang, and Kristy taught herself drums. That’s how Luminous was born.”
Mercs leans back. “I love that. Some bands are built in studios, others are born from something real. Those are the ones that last.” He pauses, brows rising. “So where do Andi and Casey come in?”
Smiling, I tilt my head, remembering. “The three of us were playing the pub scene, but we weren’t getting far.
We were fifteen, and no one took us seriously.
Then, during a gig in Byron Bay, an agent approached us.
Said we had talent but needed more depth.
A stronger bass line. A proper lead guitarist so I could focus on vocals. ”
Mercs lets out a short laugh. “Ouch. Harsh.”
I shake my head. “No, he was right. We needed more. I put flyers up in Lismore… bigger town, more chance of finding someone, and we waited. Nearly gave up. Then Andrea called. Gruff voice, abrupt. Said she played bass, and her cousin played lead guitar. Both girls, which we liked. Not that we were anti-guys, but we loved the idea of an all-female band.”
He nods. “I like that you’re all women. It kicks serious ass.”
“Yeah, we think so too. At first, we weren’t sure it’d work. Andi’s four and a half years older than us, Casey’s two, but somehow, it clicked. Andi’s our grumpy mama bear. We love her for it.”
He chuckles. “Well, I’m glad I get to be part of your little family for a while.”
“Me too.” I pause, then tilt my head. “What about you? Big family?”
He offers a small smile and shakes his head. “Just Gran and my kid sister, Kiera.”
That’s it—no mention of parents.
It feels off-limits, so I don’t press.
“Where in the States are you from?”
“Pennsylvania. A small town called Ligonier.”
Excitement bubbles in my chest. “Perfect! We’ll stop in when we play Pittsburgh.”
His eyes widen. “Oh… um. It’s quiet. I doubt they’d want a rock circus rolling into town.”
I laugh. “Oh dear Gaia, no. Not everyone. Just me. I’d love to meet your Gran and Kiera.”
His brows draw together, and that buzz in the air returns like we’re both feeling it now.
“You want to meet my family?”
I smile and reach for his hand. It’s warm and solid, completely enveloping mine. “Of course I do. I want to know the people in your life. I’m not sure why, or what this is yet, but something pulled me back here tonight. To you. I want to know you.”
I glance upward, then back down. “Is that okay?”
His gaze holds mine, searching like he’s looking for something buried deep.
I don’t look away.
His chest rises with a heavy breath as he reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The contact sends a shiver through me in the best way.
“You’re not sexy, Effa,” he murmurs.
My heart dips, but before I can react, he adds, “You’re breathtakingly beautiful.”
I forget how to breathe for a second. Butterflies burst in my stomach, fluttering wildly. My cheek rests in his palm, our eyes locked. His cologne mixes with the lingering scent of earlier smoke, concert air, and raw masculinity, all wrapped into one perfect storm.
Just a few hours ago, I stood before thousands of screaming fans and roaring music. But right now, none of that matters. All I care about is this one man.
What he’s thinking.
What he’s feeling.
He’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever known. He doesn’t chase attention. He’s calm, grounded, real, and I want more.
Mercs’ voice is soft, nearly a whisper. “So… how wild was the after-party?” His searching eyes are still locked on mine, like he’s hoping I’ll give him an answer that isn’t just about the party.
The air crackles between us, alive with tension. I lick my lips, holding his gaze as heat pulses through me. He flares his nostrils slightly, like he’s losing control. Our breathing grows heavier, matching the charged rhythm around us.
Suddenly, his hand snaps up, tangling in my hair as he pulls me forward and crashes his lips to mine.
The contact is electric, my lips tingling, body instantly on fire.
His kiss is rough, commanding, and I melt into it like I’ve been waiting for this forever.
His other arm wraps around my waist, yanking me closer as our mouths move in sync, tongues tangling to a rhythm all their own.
It’s butterflies and fireworks and unicorns doing backflips through clouds of cotton candy—it is ridiculous and overwhelming and utterly perfect.
He tastes like berry water.
Like comfort and danger all at once.
Mercs’ fingers tighten in my hair, dominant and possessive, and my knees wobble.
A deep groan rumbles from his chest as my hands slide up his arms, gripping his biceps as they flex beneath my touch.
He grinds against me, and I feel myself dissolve into him.
But then… he slows. His lips ease back. He breaks the kiss, chest heaving as he loosens his grip and takes a slow step away.
We’re breathless, staring at each other like the room just shifted on its axis.
My pulse is still skidding around my ribs when I step back, fingers hooking into the zipper at the side of my purple leather dress.
Mercs’ eyes darken instantly.
“You sure you wanna do that?” His voice drops, gravel and heat and a warning wrapped in one.
I arch a brow at him. “Do what?”
His jaw tightens as I slowly drag the zipper down. The sound is obscene in the quiet room. Leather loosens around my ribs, sliding over my hips as I peel it off and let it drop to the floor.
I’m left standing in nothing but a purple lace bra and matching panties.
Mercs goes very still.
Not relaxed still.
Predator still.
His gaze drags over me, slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing every inch. His chest rises once, heavy. “Effa…” He swallows. “If you’re stripping, I’m not exactly built for restraint right now.”
A laugh slips out of me. Soft and teasing before I say, “Relax, dude.”
He doesn’t look relaxed.
I step past him and scoop up his T-shirt from where it’s hanging over the back of the chair. His eyes follow every movement like he’s tracking prey.
“I can’t sleep in leather,” I say, wiggling my toes as if that explains everything. “It’s hot. It squeaks. It’s a whole situation.”
His brows pull together. “So you’re not…”
“No.” I flash him a grin. “Not tonight.”
There’s a flicker of something across his face. Relief? Disappointment? Both?
I tug his shirt over my head, the cotton sliding down over my bare skin. It falls to mid-thigh, swallowing me in softness that smells like him. Clean soap and stage sweat and something darker underneath.
Safe.
His gaze softens a fraction. “You’re killin’ me, you know that?”
I tilt my head. “You survived the kiss.”
“Barely.”
I bend to pick up my dress, draping it over the arm of the sofa. When I straighten, he’s still watching me like I might change my mind.
I don’t.
Instead, I nod toward the sofa. “So… time for bed?”
He exhales slowly, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
I grin. “Get in line.”
He exhales like he’s trying to gather what’s left of his composure. “You’re quite an extraordinary woman, Effa.”
I grin. “Ordinary’s boring. Now get on the sofa.”
He chuckles, turning to lie down on his side, facing outward. I slide in front him, my back to his chest, and his arm instinctively wraps around my waist, holding me close so I don’t roll off.
I smile, loving how natural this feels. “Do you get morning wood?” I ask suddenly.
Mercs bursts out laughing, shifting slightly behind me. “What kind of question is that?”
I glance over my shoulder, his face is mere inches from mine. “Just want to know what I’m waking up to. Mentally preparing myself.”
“Sometimes.” He pulls me closer and groans. “I’ve got no control over it.”
I giggle, threading my fingers through his. A warm tingle spreads through me. “It’s fine. Human nature. Besides, I’m kind of grinding my ass into your cock right now… so it would only make sense.”
He laughs again, the sound vibrating through my back, and I melt a little more. This? This comfort, this ease, it feels rare. Real.
My life’s never really been normal. I don’t even know what that is.
But maybe with Mercs, maybe this is a start.
“The right kind of normal,” I whisper to myself.
“Goodnight, Effa,” he murmurs into my ear.
“Night, Mercs.”
I close my eyes, tucked into his warmth, his arm around me.
And for the first time in a long time…
I don’t feel like Effervescent the rock star.
I feel like me.
And I never want to leave this moment.