Home > Thoughtful (Thoughtless #1.5)(9)

Thoughtful (Thoughtless #1.5)(9)
Author: S.C. Stephens

I pointed behind me to Evan. He took my cue and began the first song on our set list. A hard, driving beat filled the bar, and I lost myself to the rhythm. Matt and Griffin joined in for their parts, and then I joined in for mine. The girls near me went crazy. I played with them, flirted a little, made each and every one of them feel like I was anxious to meet up with her later tonight. I wasn’t going to, not tonight anyway, but what harm did it do to make them believe that? Everyone wanted a little fantasy in their life.

Throughout our set, I kept one eye on the doors for Denny. He should be showing up any time. I wondered if he’d look the same—unruly dark hair that stuck up everywhere; short, skinny frame. I wondered what his girlfriend looked like. I kept picturing her as a petite blond thing for some reason.

The song we were singing was a fan favorite, and everywhere I looked people were singing along. I focused in on the group in front of me. Propping a foot up on a speaker, I leaned out into the crowd, letting them touch me. It was complete mayhem, but the way they grinned made me smile. It was nice to be able to make people happy, even if it was for a really strange reason.

I was suggestively running my hand down my body when I felt something. It was the oddest sensation I’d ever felt, like lightning was about to strike and the air was charged with static electricity; even though it was warm in the bar, my skin was pebbled with goose bumps. I kept the majority of my attention on the girls clamoring for me to notice them, but I lifted my eyes to the doors.

There was a girl being led into the bar. Whoever was with her was weaving her through the packed crowd. I couldn’t see the person in the lead at all, and was only catching glimpses of the mystery woman, but it was enough. I saw hundreds of girls every night, some plain, some beautiful enough to be highly sought-after cover models, but this girl…even seeing her through a crowd, there was something about her that sang to me. It nearly stopped me in my tracks. Mentally, at least. I was having difficulty getting the right words to come out of my mouth. I was sure I’d said those last two lines completely wrong.

It was almost like I’d been punched in the gut. My breath felt strained, and I was getting sort of light-headed. What was it about her that affected me so much? I didn’t entirely know, and it freaked me out. She was studying the band as I discreetly studied her, and from what I could see of her expression, she didn’t seem overly thrilled with us. I wondered why.

Wavy brown hair bounced along her shoulder blades as she walked through my field of vision. It was hard to clearly make her out with the space and bodies between us, but I saw long legs under her jean shorts; they seemed to go on forever. And she was wearing a tight shirt that highlighted her small, perky breasts. The light yellow fabric almost reached her waistline, and the thin band of skin around her middle showcased her trim stomach in a classy but tantalizing way. She was long and lean like she was a runner, like me. I wondered if we had that in common. Then I wondered what else we had in common. Blue eyes? A love of music? An almost debilitating need to never be alone?

I wanted to keep covertly staring at her all night long, but I couldn’t let this odd, overwhelming sensation of attraction distract me from the fans. I had a job to do, after all. I dropped my eyes to my girls and gave them all of my gyrating, teasing attention as I tempted them with my voice and my body. Whoever this random woman was, I’d probably never see her after tonight. And if I was going to meet her at all, it would have to be after our gig. There was no need to fixate on her now.

Even still, I couldn’t resist a peek, and I again shifted my eyes to take her in. Oddly, she and the person she was with, who I could now see was a guy, were talking to Sam against the far wall. Sam seemed happy to be talking with the pair. Sam rarely looked that way at work, especially on a night when the bar was jam-packed full of people. Or potential problems, as he liked to call them. But he was smiling. He even reached out and gave the guy a hug. That was when it hit me. The guy was Denny. The girl I was instantly attracted to, even from the massive distance between us…was Denny’s girlfriend.

Well, of course she was.

I instantly locked my eyes onto the fans in front of me and amped up my seduction of them. I even reached out to touch a few of them, since they were safe. Denny’s girlfriend was not safe. I could not be having thoughts about her. It was inappropriate on so many levels. I may on occasion have slept with girls who were in committed relationships, because who was I to judge what someone decided to do with their body, but I wouldn’t do that to Denny. He was my brother. My family. The only real family I had in this world, besides my band.

Missing my long-gone friend, I looked up to make eye contact with him. I wanted to make sure he got his key, make sure he was settled, maybe even give him a quick wave, even though I was still singing. I spotted him clutching the girl’s hand, and a smile broke out through my words. Denny looked older, for sure, but he still had that youthfulness about him that made me want to reach out and give him a noogie. The innocence on his face, in his smile, warmed my heart. I’d do anything for this guy. Give my life for him if necessary.

Denny’s girlfriend—Kiera, if I remembered correctly—was gazing up at him like he was the moon and stars to her. I let go of my initial attraction and smiled over their relationship. He was clearly happy with her, and it was obvious they were in love. I pushed back my own desires and only let my happiness for him shine through. I gave him a small wave as the song ended, and he lifted his chin and raised his key to let me know he had it.

Hating to break eye contact with the friend I was itching to catch up with, I quickly glanced at Matt and gave him the okay to start the next song. The job came first, especially when I was onstage. The song Matt started playing was one of my favorites. It was also one of the most painful songs for me. I had written it about my parents. It was sort of my plea for them to love me. Too little. Too late. They never had, and now that they were gone, they never would. I still sang it almost every night though. Hopeless as it was, I couldn’t stop trying to win their affection.

For a moment, I was so lost in the words and the painful memories that everything else faded into the background. Then I found my gaze wandering to Kiera. She was leaving the bar with Denny. She glanced back at me at the last minute though. Lips parted, her expression was awed as she watched me cut open my heart and bleed out all over the stage. Maybe it was the lights, but I could have sworn her eyes were watering, like she understood that this song was painful for me. That I had to fight against my throat constricting with every syllable. That the only reason I could sing it at all was because of endless rehearsals and performances. For the first time in a long time, I was looking at someone who saw me. Not the rock star, not the playboy, but me. The real me. And for the first time in a long time, terror crawled up my spine. Kiera shivered, like she also shared my fear, then she disappeared with Denny.

   
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