Chapter Fifteen #2
Dressed in golf shorts and a polo amidst the throng of concert-goers, the man standing with that puttana appeared uncomfortable in his surroundings and woefully out of place.
He tugged at his collar. Sweat beaded on his brow.
Balding, and his features nondescript, Kelsey latched onto the guy like he might take off if she didn’t. Gina almost felt sorry for him.
Matthew McCready wasn’t just a gorgeous rock star.
He was beautiful inside and out. A man of integrity, she’d describe him as kind, confident, and funny.
Honest, authentic, and unapologetically himself, he was comfortable in his skin.
An alpha through and through, the man who commanded her body with the slightest touch could never be anyone’s bitch boy.
Gina dipped her head into Teo’s ear. “What does primal mean?”
“Huh?” Dark eyebrows pulling together, his head flinched back. “That’s random. Basic urges. You know, instinct.”
“Not the general definition, silly.” She bit her lip. “Say you were at the Red Door.”
“Primal sex?” A pink hue crept across her brother’s cheeks, and unable to meet her gaze, Teo furtively glanced around, then cleared his throat. “Chrissakes, Gina, don’t be asking me about that shit.”
“Jeez, I was just curious.”
He expelled a loud breath and lowered his voice. “The definition still applies. Primal is savage and raw—unrestrained, unfiltered, uninhibited.”
“Like animals?”
His lips parting, Teo hesitated. He turned toward her, pupils dilated. “In a sense. But then, that’s what we truly are, isn’t it?”
The kabuki dropped.
And as the fog lifted from the stage, Matt saw her.
Bathed in flashing technicolor light, her pretty white dress glowed in red.
With those beguiling eyes fixed on him, Gina looked up at him eagerly, and so adoringly, but not in the crazed fangirl kind of way he was accustomed to.
In a sea of unknown faces, their heads banging, hands held high in the air, her intimate gaze screamed unspoken words deep into his chest.
I love you.
Matt knew that look. He’d seen it between Chloe, Jesse, and Taylor. Bo and Ava. But he’d never had it directed at him before. And for the first time in his life, the adrenaline rush of performing on stage was eclipsed by something even more profound and wondrous.
She loved him.
High on the feeling, he skip-danced across the stage to join Kit and Taylor at its center, the three of them tipping the necks of their guitars up in unison as they came in for the break.
Holding onto Teo and Katie, he watched Gina jump up and down.
Matt couldn’t hear what she screamed, the mix in his in-ear monitors playing Bo’s kick and snare over a soft click track, Kit’s bass, and the boosted sound of his guitar.
“Chorus, two, three, four.”
Upon hearing the monotone cue, Matt went up to the mic, eyes locked on hers, his voice a unique harmony to Sloan’s insane baritone.
The setlist trimmed down from last summer’s headline tour, they played a dozen of their most-loved songs and closed with an instrumental version of the unreleased track that featured Bo’s sick blast beats.
A sound bite of what was to come, and though the audience didn’t realize it, their positive reception was the feedback that kept the band going in the right direction.
Matt flicked a monitor out of his ear, leaving it to dangle at his neck.
“Sweet home, Chicago,” Sloan crooned to the crowd. “We love this town. Thank you.”
One more song.
One more song.
One more song.
The words echoed, repeating over and over again.
Playing a riff, Matt stepped up to the mic. “You want another one?”
And before the crowd could respond, he heard a woman shout, “Hey, Fido,” then, mocking him, she howled, “Ahoooo.”
“Left barricade,” Brendan said via the monitor that remained in his ear, not that he had to look to know who it was.
Fucking cunt bitch.
Matt glanced at Sloan, and with a wink, the lead singer grinned. “What the fuck was that pitiful wail? You’ve gotta do better than that if you want one more. Show them the beast, rhythm man.”
Expectant silence hung in the air, a single beam of murky light illuminating the fog that swirled at his feet. He took a deep breath, releasing a low, drawn-out snarl into the mic, followed by the loudest, most menacing growl he could muster.
Kit’s deep bass and Bo’s kick joined in, the crowd roaring with their approval. Then, Taylor strummed the opening chords of the encore.
“Scream, two, three, four.”
On impulse, he changed the lyrics. “Fuuuuck youuuu.”
And with the last song over, the stage went dark, the fans still chanting for more. Ripping the monitor out of his ear, he handed his guitar off to a tech. Kit handed him a beer. “Did you see the look on that bitch’s face?”
Kelsey was irrelevant to him, so he hadn’t bothered to.
Sloan high-fived him. “Smooth move. That was fucking great, man.”
Slinging his beer back, he took to the stairs. The girl who loved him waited at the bottom, and right then, the only thing Matt cared about was getting to her. He pushed past security and, ignoring the city officials and VIPs waiting to shake his hand, he sprinted right over to Gina.
“You were so—ah—”
But he didn’t let her finish. Instead, Matt scooped her up, and spinning with Gina in his arms, he kissed her.
And he didn’t stop. He kept right on kissing her until they were back inside the tent. “I love you, pizza girl.”
“Yeah? That’s a good thing,” she panted, smiling from beneath her lashes. “Conisdering I love you, too.”
In his soul, Matt already knew that, but hearing her say the words made all the difference.
A flood of warmth infused his limbs as Gina nuzzled her cheek against him.
She’d given him her heart and taken his.
He’d get to be the one to care for her, provide for her, protect her, and support every one of her dreams.
With a tender smile, he combed the sweat-dampened hair from her face. “C’mon, let’s go home.”
“But Katie invited all of us over for drinks and nibbles.” She glanced at his dear friend’s wife and shrugged. “It’s their anniversary, I guess.”
“Tuesday,” Katie said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “You know, I ran into Brendan in this very park during Venery’s concert three years ago.”
“We got married a year to the day later.” Brendan moved in and, hooking his fingers inside her jeans, pulled his wife to his chest. “I love you, Katelyn.”
“I love you, baby.” And she kissed him.
With the foil to his plans taken care of, Matt grinned. He wasn’t about to share Gina’s company with anyone tonight—not her family, nor his. “Another time. We’ve got a celebration of our own to get to.”
“Yeah?” The corners of her mouth turning up, Gina bit her lip.
“Didn’t I tell you I’d catch you, bunny?” He looked into those hazel-green eyes, and skimming his nose along her pulse, Matt inhaled her distinctive scent. “I’ll be fair and give you a head start.”
He always did have an excessive amount of leftover energy to burn off after a show.
Fuck it.
“Run.”