Chapter 6: Holy Hell

My parents were upper middle class and that was how they liked it.

When I was nearly thirteen, my parents ended their separation and got back together. Even though they’d never been officially divorced, they had another wedding, just to prove their newly reformed commitment to each other.

A few months later, they moved me and my brother Wade to Africa where we lived in a small village. My parents taught the locals English, helped them build a school, a church, and a well for fresh water. I had helped the village kids learn to write and shared my love of Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys with them. It had been an amazing experience. I loved living simply and serving others.

After five years, we returned to the states. There had been several reasons, but the biggest was for me and Wade. Our mom home-schooled us while in Africa, and I graduated early. When I received a college scholarship, my parents decided it was time to leave their beloved Africa and return home.

Wade was sixteen at the time, and they felt it would be good for him. Our parents said it was their turn to sacrifice so that me and Wade could have a more normal life, not that either of us even knew what normal looked like. I had a feeling there might have been more to our parents’ decision, but I still didn’t know what the reason was, and I might never know.

My family had been back eight years. Whatever my parents’ reasons to return to the states had been, I had a feeling they would go back to Africa soon, especially after all that happened with my brother. It was obvious they longed to return to the people and the simple life serving held for them.

I respected their decision, whatever they chose. I wanted them to be happy. They earned it after all they put up with from Wade. But I didn’t want to do the same. I would marry Reid, become a lawyer, and when the time was right, I would have children of my own, just like I'd always planned.

“Hey, Birdy, can we get a picture with you?” A random guy inside the club asked as we claimed our reserved table.

“Sure.” Birdy posed cordially.

The club was busy, but a waitress came over immediately. I was going to order a sparkling water with lemon until Birdy glared.

“Fine, I’ll have a shot of vodka.”

“She’ll have two shots and I’ll have the same,” Birdy said over the music pumping from the speakers.

“Who’s playing tonight?” I asked, trying to relax.

“The bartender told me the name.” Birdy thought a moment. “I think they’re called Brushed Silk or something like that.”

“Never heard of them,” I said, not that the news was surprising. I mostly listened to indie rock, not the dance crap that pummeled my ears now. In the indie scene, there was a group called Crushed Velvet and I knew most of their songs. Their music was my secret dirty pleasure, but I highly doubted the group would play at a place like Infinity.

“Me either,” Birdy said with a shrug. “Hopefully they aren’t awful. Otherwise, these people will tear them to shreds—”

The announcer cut her off. “Welcome to Infinity. How’s everyone doing tonight?”

The crowd cheered.

“Ready to fuck,” some guy shouted above the noise.

“Good luck with that, man,” the announcer said, humor in his voice.

The crowd laughed.

“We have a great surprise for you tonight. Please put your hands together for the multi-platinum, multi award winning band, Crushed Velvet!”

I perked up at the name, surprised. “My day just got a whole lot brighter.”

“What?” Birdy asked over the shouting and clapping of everyone in the club.

I shook my head. “Nothing.” Excitement filled my veins. I loved their music, and I had a serious celebrity crush on the lead singer. Something about his bad boy looks got me hot.

Four men walked onto the stage. One sat at the drums, two picked up guitars and the last went to the keyboard. I could see their faces on the jumbotron hanging over the stage. Cameras gave close-ups of each guy while he smiled and waved. The lead singer hadn’t come out yet and I felt my pulse quicken as I waited.

All the guys wore the same basic outfit of jeans and white tee shirts.

Girls rushed to the stage, talking, and hollering suggestively. I tried to stay calm, but it was impossible. The waitress brought over our drinks, and I quickly downed a shot, hoping to settle my nerves.

The drummer clicked his sticks together four times to set the beat, then began pounding in rhythm. The keyboard came in after eight counts, followed by the guitars.

I grinned.

“I love this song,” I said, feeling the warm effects of the first shot soften my anxieties and sadness of the day.

Birdy smiled and downed one of her shots as well.

After another eight counts, the lead singer walked on stage and my panties were immediately wet. He was beyond gorgeous with his chiseled jaw and smoking hot body.

My fiancé, Reid was good looking but this guy … this guy was perfect.

“Oh. My,” Birdy began, looking over at me.

“Holy hell,” I finished. My breath caught as a camera zoomed in on him, giving the crowd a close-up. My jaw dropped. He and I were in the elevator together earlier.

Duh! I’d seen his face on the Internet dozens of times before and ogled him. But he looked different in person. Probably because in his photos, he was shirtless, and his hair hung wavy around his face as he posed in sultry fuck me positions.

In the elevator, he’d had his hair slicked back and he’d been in an expensive suit. Still, I’d been so close to my celebrity crush. I was in his arms for crying out loud. His face had looked familiar, and his voice sounded familiar too.

I smacked myself in the forehead. I knew his name!