Free Slow Body Rock (Rockstar Romance) by Nora Flite Page A

rockstar.
    Standing backstage or in a crowd during shows, I thought I knew what it would be like to play in front of so many people. I thought I knew. I didn't have a clue.
    Drezden pranced for them, he stormed and kicked and screamed. Veins stood out on his throat. The insides of his forearms became trails, rippling while he strangled the mic. In his element, he was more beautiful than ever.
    I'd still been worried I'd fumble. Something had changed; the concentrated essence of his voice wasn't aimed at me. Standing back where I was, I was spared his attack.
    The crowd took every hit.
    The ending notes of No More Stars faded in my ears. No, not yet. I'm not done yet. On a whim, I tangled up my strings and extended the music. It was spontaneous, but the fans wailed for more. Next to me, Porter and Colt went silent. Abruptly, I was performing a guitar solo.
    I met Drezden's gaze. Like that day, when I'd auditioned, I felt the pull from him. This was the man who turned me inside out. He felt his way into me with just his eyes. Drezden didn't need anything else to touch that place deep down.
    Quaking in my vinyl boots, I let my guitar go; it hung from the strap.
    Dead silence was swallowed by the black hole of the Fillmore. It was as if every single person there was making as much noise as they could.
    They crowed for an encore, but someone was leading me off stage. Without thinking, I ripped my arm away. I didn't want to go anywhere! This was my home, my life, and every nerve begged to keep me standing in the worship of—
    “Lola,” Sean said, teeth glinting. “Lola! Holy shit! You were amazing!”
    I shoved him backwards with my hug. Together, we stumbled backstage, away from the blinding lights. “Sean! Sean, oh my god! Did you see? Did you see that!?”
    We were jumping, a mess of shouts that kept building with excitement. What we said didn't matter. Only our feelings counted.
    Gripping my shoulders, he gave me a shake that rattled my teeth. “How did you get so good?”
    Feeling cocky, I let myself smirk. “I was always that good.”
    Sean's forehead wrinkled. My gut said I'd messed up, until I noticed he was looking just past me. Turning, I stepped aside and found Drezden in arm's reach. “She is really good,” the singer said. Reaching out, he offered his hand to my brother. “Long time no see.”
    “Well.” Sean linked his fingers, joined the handshake. “Not exactly. I've seen you a bunch.”
    The tightness in Drez's smile unnerved me. “These tours get busy for me, sorry.”
    I didn't have time to get anxious with the tension. A crowd was forming, Brenda leading Porter and Colt our way. “Great job tonight, guys,” she said. She beamed at me, then spotted my brother. “You especially, Lola. Sean! Hey, good opening act.”
    “Thanks.” Thumbing his ear, he looked over us all. “Getting packed. Lola, me and the guys are going to be at a place down the street. I'll text you if you want to show for the afterparty, okay?”
    “Sure. Sounds good.” I was smiling again. I couldn't keep my exuberance in control. It kept floating up, solid images of what I'd just done out there. “And thanks, Sean.”
    He walked backwards, wiggling his fingers. “For what?”
    For being there for me, for pushing me. “Just... everything.” He rolled his eyes before hurrying away.
    Brenda grabbed her hips, hair bouncing. “Afterparties, about that. You guys better be ready to climb on the bus tomorrow.”
    “I'll be fine,” Porter said, elbowing me firmly. “Can't speak for the newbie, though.”
    I gave the bigger man a light shove, laughing. “And I told you , this isn't my first afterparty.”
    “With us, it is.” The drummer hooked his arm with mine, while Porter pushed me forward. The two men had no trouble forcing me towards a back exit. “Come on! The car will take us down the street, the club is supposed to be awesome!”
    Drezden was following, a bloodhound who had my scent. “Wait.” I dug my heels in,