"Well said." Banks smirked.
I clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's go, Juilliard. Tonight's gonna get your elitist ass laid like you wouldn't believe."
"Fuck yeah!" Toad pogoed in place twice before bounding down the hall ahead of us.
"Slow down!" Casper called. "No one's here to see your ugly bassist ass!" He clapped me hard on the back. "You ready?" he asked me, suddenly serious.
I clenched my fists. Everyone was here tonight to see me. Yeah, sure, maybe they were curious about my mom, but they paid to hear me sing, and that's what I meant to do.
And Liliana was here to see it.
I nodded. "Too fucking ready. Let's go."
The house music died down and the lights dimmed. From the wings, I looked out to see the whole club washed in blue light, my signature color. Talon nodded and headed out to the drum kit, to wild applause. I grinned and gave Casper a small shove forward, and he, Toad, and Banks filed out to grab their instruments.
I hung back, waiting, listening to the crowd. "Jax! Jax! Jax!" Fuck, that was my name they were screaming. I'd seen this scene a million times before, waiting in the wings during my mother's shows, hearing the adulation of the crowd as they screamed for her, but tonight, those cheers belonged to me.
Talon counted the beats and the heavy bass of “Cocky” thudded through the speakers. It sounded so much different live, so much better. The crowd hesitated, hanging on like one great beast sucking in its breath.
Then I walked on stage and they exploded.
I felt the beat move through me and the words came fast and true. Like I had been born for this. And dammit, I was fucking born for this.
"You got it right… babe…" I held the note a little bit longer as the guys upped the tempo, letting the strobe lights flicker around us before we crashed together as one into the song that had made my name. The song I wrote in private—for the only girl I had ever loved—now belonged to everyone.
I lifted my head and looked for her, but the lights blinded me, and I had no idea where she could be. I could only hope that she was out there, watching me, listening as I sang directly to her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Liliana
Remember how I said I was always late?
I never expected to fall asleep. But my sudden burst of clarity seemed to be all that I needed to finally be able to close my eyes and sleep away the jet-lag that had dogged me since I landed here.
When I woke up, I was relaxed and refreshed. And really fucking late for Jax's show.
I called the cab while I threw on the closest approximation to a club outfit I owned—a soft jersey tee that I slung over a bright neon purple tank top and a pair of jeans with sparkles on the ass. My version of dressing up. I debated over whether I should put on heels or not, but the only pair I had brought with me from New York were the ones I planned on wearing to the wedding, and knowing my luck, I'd break them beforehand. A pair of ballet flats would suffice.
Besides, Jax liked that I was small. I grinned at the mirror when I imagined how he'd show his appreciation.
It doesn't have to mean anything.
When the cab let me off, I thought he had got the address wrong. Jax said “club,” so I was expecting something small and intimate. Someplace where I could sit down with a glass of wine and watch him sing.
This place was the exact opposite of that.
The music that blared whenever the doors opened to the street was so loud that I froze in place.
He was playing “Cocky.” Right now.
I hung back and traced my fingers along the crumbling stucco. Did it matter to me? Was I upset? There was something still there, a ball of hurt inside of my chest that was still tender and bruised. But I had moved past that, hadn't I?
It doesn't have to mean anything.
I would just wait here until the song was over and then I'd go inside. He would never be the wiser.
Thankfully, I couldn't hear the lyrics, so I was free to bounce on my toes to the infectious beat. I felt a small spike of pride as I watched two tall blondes rush up to the entrance, frantic over missing “our song.”
"God, he is just the hottest thing," one gushed as the bouncer glowered at her ID.
"Can you imagine being the girl he wrote it for?"
"She probably has no idea how lucky she is."
"Can you imagine how amazing he must be in bed?" They tittered together before they moved inside.
Yes, I could.
I stepped up to the bouncer, who was easily as wide as I was tall. "Liliana Nesbit?" I shouted. "I should be on the list?"
One eyebrow went up. "You're in the VIP section, miss," he rumbled, suddenly deferential. "Right this way."
I followed him into the dark, wild mass of the club. The overhanging balcony obscured the stage from view, but I did get a good look at the two blondes, desperately screaming Jax's name.
He led me through a maze of levels, until he suddenly emerged into a private lounge. One with a perfect view of the stage below.
"Holy shit," I breathed, but my voice was drowned out in the roar of applause as the drummer pounded out the intro to the next song.
It was like the world narrowed down to a pinpoint, only large enough for me to see him. Jax strode across the stage as smooth and dangerous as a wildcat before he crouched down low and began to sing.
I gripped the railing to keep from falling over the balcony. He was electric, a force of nature. He worked the crowd like an instrument, playing our emotions as skillfully as his guitar. We moved when he told us to move, we screamed when he told us to scream, and when it was all over and I was shouting his name along with everyone else, I was just as breathless and desperate as I was when he pinned me against the wall.
The last encore was still ringing in my ears as I tore back down the stairs and shoved my way to far wall. Claustrophobia clawed at my throat as I fought my way along the wall and toward the front of the club.
Jax was there, crouching on stage, clutching the outstretched hands that reached for him, wanting a piece of him, wanting everything he had to give and more. I shoved as hard as I could, worming my way through the small spaces no one else could fit, until I finally popped up right at the gate. "Jax!" I screamed.
He wheeled at the sound of my voice. I waved frantically. He nodded in the direction of security and I suddenly found myself hoisted over the barrier. "Jax!" I called again.
"Thank you and goodnight!" he boomed into the mic, then pointed toward the booth. The house lights popped on and I could finally see all of him.
When he looked at me, I understood what it meant to be devoured. The dark hunger in his eyes set my skin alight, and I knew he saw the same look in my eyes. Seeing him on stage had lit a firestorm of need in my belly.
I shivered. We were in full view of the dispersing crowd, of security, of his band. Surely he wasn't so reckless…
"You were here the whole time?" he called. There was something tight at the edges of his voice that told me the question was more important than it seemed.
"Yes," I lied. One song. What did it matter?
That was the answer he needed to cross the space between us in two leaps. I gasped as he tugged me to his side and wheeled around, pressing us both through a small gray door at the bottom of the stage.
He wheeled us through the rabbit warren of rigging below until we emerged into a concrete hallway that must have run along the wings. The kind of place I had been in a million times before, but never like this. Never with Jaxson so desperate and wild and unhinged.