Seduction by Song (16 page)

“He’s not
like
that!”

Logan startles like he hadn’t expected my outburst. Hell, even
I
didn’t expect my outburst. I stood and listened for my whole life as my brother pointed out all my flaws, even ones that only he saw, but when he spoke like that about Romeo—I couldn’t forgive him.

“He’s a good man,” I whisper, perhaps in part for my own sake. “He doesn’t just take random groupies into his bed. He isn’t
like
that. He’s—there’s substance to him. I know that.”

Apparently deciding I’ve said enough, Logan sneers. “And how do you know that, huh? Did
he
tell you that?”

“Yes,” I say, confidence creeping into my voice at a surprising rate, “and I believe him.”

“Can you prove it?” Logan asks.

I frown and straighten my back, standing tall to return his glare.

He clenches his fists again and, for one terrifying second, I think he might lift them against me. I recoil, and it seems to be enough to snap him back to his senses. His shoulders fall and he sighs, frustration clear in the sound.

“I can’t look at you right now,” he says, disappointment lacing his voice. Despite that, he drags his eyes down my body with a look in his eyes that clearly embodies disgust.

I shudder and slam the door behind him as soon as he steps outside.

Although I knew I should be getting ready for the night’s show—which I don’t even know if I should still
go
to—I found myself just sitting in the kitchen, prodding listlessly at a bowl of salad I made up for myself.

It isn’t until my friends come in, without needing to knock since we’d all swapped keys months ago, that I’m snapped out of my depressed state.

“—and that’s when he said,
girl, those pumps are mine
,” Maddie says, apparently at the end of some joke. The girls all laugh, but stop abruptly when the notice the way my shoulders are slumped.

They take their seats around me immediately, looks of concern on each of their faces.

“What happened, honey?” Maddie asks. “Do you need April to kick someone’s ass? She totally will.”

April nods, her expression going dead serious. “I
totally
will.”

I laugh, but it sounds tired and horrible to even my own ears. “Thanks, guys. I’m okay. Really. Just a bit—well, I’m sure you’ve all seen the news.”

They all share a look. An awkward silence stretches out over the next minute until April stands up to wrap a hug around my shoulders.

“Don’t let those vultures get you down,” she says, smoothing my hair back until it’s arranged in some sort of presentable manner. “They’ll get over it soon enough. Meanwhile, just enjoy your fifteen minutes of fame. What the hell could it hurt, am I right?”

Juliet and Maddie nod in agreement, smiling as though they think that’ll help cheer me up. Normally, grins on my three favorite ladies would be
more
than enough to brighten my day, but—.

I muster up a smile, too. There was no need to worry them with that horrible email I received. I’m sure nothing would come of it, and they would only freak out if they knew.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I say. “Come on, ladies. We were promised a concert.”

“Hell
yes
we were,” April says, flashing me a huge grin. “Ladies—let’s get this party started!”

Chapter
Twenty

It takes us the rest of the night before the show to get ready. The girls insist on helping me with my hair, and Juliet models pretty much everything in my closet for me to help me decide on an outfit. Although that email still terrifies me and my brother’s words still—
disturb
me, to say the least, I find myself smiling a little easier as I let them pamper me.

“You guys are so good to me,” I say as we all step into our shoes, dolled up and ready to get going.

“Please, after everything you’ve done for us all these years? This is the
least
we could do,” Maddie says as she fumbles through her purse, looking for her keys.

Juliet gasps, loudly enough to stop all of us in our tracks.

Right there at the side of the street in front of my apartment, looking completely out of place, is a man wearing fancy sunglasses and a suit. Standing by a sleek, long
limousine
.

He approaches us as we get to the bottom of the steps and bows, deeply.

“Miss Gouchet and her friends, I presume?” he asks in a British accent that’s just as fancy as everything he’s wearing.

The girls stifle their giggles, or at least try to, and I smile, just a bit hesitantly. “Yes, that’s me? I mean—us, I guess.”

He smiles, tightly and politely, before sweeping an arm back towards the limousine. “Courtesy of Mr. Ortiz.”

The inside of the limousine is just as flawless as the outside. The leather seats are cool to the touch and a bottle of expensive looking champagne is chilling in a bucket of ice between the seats. Next to that, there’s a huge bouquet of two dozen—no,
three
dozen roses. Each of them are a perfect deep red, smooth to the touch when I run the backs of my fingers over their petals and absolutely divine to smell when I lift them to my nose.

A small notecard falls out of the bouquet when I move it. I feel my face heat up as I read the words:

Don’t keep me waiting.

I shift, feeling that now-familiar spark coiling in my stomach again as I imagine exactly what he might do to me if I kept him waiting. I entertain the thought of hiding after the show, just to see these fantasies become a reality, but I know I would never be able to stay away from Romeo for long.

As I work on taking everything in, a healthy blush on my cheeks and a goofy smile on my lips, the girls play with the divider separating us from the driver.

“Hello? Earth to Erin?” April says, waving a hand in front of my eyes.

I blink, snapping out of the trance this luxurious gesture had put me in. Romeo had done this. Romeo had done this for
me
. A giddy little smile appears on my lips. I was so wrong to have doubted him.

“Well, what are
we waiting for?” I ask when I notice the three of them watching me. “You heard the lady—let’s get this party started!”

We pop the champagne noisily, and I could swear I catch the driver smiling fondly at us through the rearview mirror when I look up. Although we obviously can’t pour him a glass, we save some in the bottle and put it back on ice in case he wants to indulge after his shift.

I’m almost reluctant to get out of the limousine when we slow to a stop, but I realize how silly that thought is as soon as the doors are opened for us. After all, Romeo was out there—Romeo with his molten voice and irresistible moves, Romeo with his hands that fit perfectly in the grooves of my hips. I find myself amazed at how much my attitude towards this man have changed over just several weeks.

“Excited?” Maddie whispers as we begin to pass through the gates after picking our tickets up at the will call window.

I nod, unable to even
try
denying it. I’m positively brimming over with excitement, and if people had auras, mine would be glowing as bright as the sun. “More than you know.”

After shuffling through some lines, we’re flying down the stairs towards our seats in the front row. They’re even better seats—situated at the very center of the stage—than the ones we had last time, and I lift my head in anticipation.

Soon, I would see him again.

The Rocks have been joined by an opening act that will accompany them throughout the rest of the tour, so we’re all subjected to a moderately long wait before the headliners we’re all dying to see make an appearance. This isn’t to say the opening act is
bad
, of course—they’re a rock/hip-hop group calling themselves the Ruffians, and they’ve got a boyish charm to them.

I think I would have liked them, but I was too distracted by anticipation to even hear most of their performance.

After they thank us for being a great crowd and retreat into the wings, there’s another bit of an intermission while the stage crew swaps out the Ruffians’ equipment for the Rocks’ more elaborate, and probably more expensive, gear.

“I think that’s a
laser
they just put down in front of me,” Juliet whispers from my left.

I blink at the black cylinders that are being placed all over the stage and smile. Romeo was certainly going all out with the special effects tonight. Maybe it wasn’t for
me
, exactly, but—it was still nice to think that maybe it
was
for me.

Soon, the stagehands scuttle off into their respective corners again and all the lights dim. I hold my breath, knowing what’s coming next. The energy in the crowd is amazing—they know, too. A steady chant spreads throughout the crowd, cheering the Rocks on stage.

When they finally appear, it’s with so much flair that I feel my breath rushing out of my body.

In the dark, Romeo and his band mates all took the stage. I could barely make out their silhouettes even when I squint, but then—.

Instead of the single spotlight that came on to illuminate the stage in their Miami show, a rainbow of piercing lasers came on this time. Streaks of light—gold, silver, red—flash over Romeo’s face, highlighting his piercing figures. I hear girls screaming and swooning and, although I might have thought they were overreacting a little bit on any other day, I knew
exactly
what had them raving.

Finally, the music begins. The lightshow stops, leaving only one wide band of light illuminating Romeo’s eyes.

Romeo’s eyes, which twinkle with mirth and narrow with mischief as he stares right at me, are brighter than the focused light spotlighting them. I feel my jaw go slack, our eyes locking and holding as he opens his mouth to sing those first notes. It is the very sight that had me cold and indifferent the first time around, but knowing him, kissing him, feeling him inside of me made all the difference in the way I feel about him at the moment.

The rest of the lights surrounding the stage come up as soon as he starts to move. As the crowd goes wild behind me, I watch him watch me. His moves are still slick as hell, as April would say, but I notice by the third song that he isn’t using the whole stage like he normally might. He’s limiting himself to the space in front of me, sliding back and forth without taking his eyes off of me for even a second.

Their set for the night is drastically different from the last show’s, too. Although they still play many tracks off of their new album, Romeo’s chosen the most romantic, most lusty, and most
arousing
songs to sing.

And he is, without a doubt, singing to me.

I feel my body sway and move as though in synch with him. It’s almost like his hands are on me, pulling my limbs left and right with invisible puppet master strings. His voice and the beat of his music command me and I’m helpless to resist the lull of the rhythm. I crave the touch of his hands on my body, the need for him growing hotter and hotter within me with each passing song.

As the band breaks for its mid-show intermission, Romeo stays perfectly still right in the middle of the stage. Even though his band mates have already left the stage to take their breaks, Romeo remains. He seems completely unwilling to look away from me and I don’t want to do a single thing to make him leave.

The crowd has gone eerily quiet, apparently noticing something is wrong. As much as I want Romeo to stay right there, to maybe leap down and take me into his arms, I know I can’t encourage him to take such unprofessional behavior. He probably needs the break more than any of the other guys, if only to get a drink of water before he continues.

I smile for him and blow him a kiss, a chaste promise of all the things to come later that night.

It seems to be all he needs. With a seductive curl of his lips, he waves to the crowd—though I know he means it for
me
—before exiting stage right.

Chapter
Twenty One

The intermission runs on a bit longer than it normally would, a roadie popping in to apologize for some technical difficulties. Maddie and Juliet take the opportunity to make a trip to the restrooms while April moves to the seat next to me.

“How’ve you two lovebirds been holding up?” she asks as she slings an arm over my shoulders.

I roll my eyes, but can’t keep a slight blush and a tiny smile from appearing on my face. “Oh, shush. It’s not like we can’t keep our hands off of each other.

Our eyes, on the other hand…

April laughs as she sees that my mind is already wandering to Romeo again. “Sweetheart, don’t front. You know I can see right through you.”

I nudge her a little, playfully. “Don’t tease!”

“Okay, okay,” she says, relenting. “In all seriousness, Erin—I’m really happy for you.”

My cheeks flush with a familiar warmth, but it’s more of a pleasant blush than a faintly embarrassed blush this time. April has never been the type of girl to talk about feelings—whether they’re her own feelings or someone else’s. She’s happy to listen, but it’s a rare day that she says anything aside from, “Get a room!” to happy couples and “Shots!” as a solution to broken hearts.