“For fun,” Zoe said. “No strings attached.”
“Because that’s so rare for a guy to do,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“You’re the writer,” Sky said. “Control the story.”
“That’s why I’m here,” I said. “I’m going to be writing stuff about Filthy Line.”
“What?” Zoe asked, grabbing my arms. “Do you get to hang out with them?”
I grinned.
Zoe’s jaw dropped.
“It’s not like that,” I said. “I’m going to make sure Nash looks like a saint in front of everyone. And then I’m going to get a book deal and get out of here.”
“Where are you going?” Christy asked.
“Other side of the country,” I said. “On my own. For good.”
“Wait,” Zoe said. “The band…”
“Let it go, Zoe,” I said with a laugh. “We’re here to watch the concert. I’m going to write something about it. Keep everyone happy. But I know my end game here.”
“Ohgod, my end game… Nash could have my end game, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, and I need to get laid,” I said, pulling away from Zoe.
The doors to the club opened and it was a flood of people. Of course, the news of Filthy Line spread across social media like crazy. There was no way everyone was going to get inside. The police had already shown up and barricaded the street so fans could stand outside and listen.
That was how big the band really was.
Of course, SLECK RECORDS wanted in on it. To them, the band was nothing but walking and talking dollar signs. The ability to spit, piss, and shit cash. Gross? Sure. But it was the truth.
And fuck it… I was going to get mine too.
I could spin anything Nash did into gold and then walk away knowing I did something for my father. Use his connections to get to New York City and write books for the rest of my life.
That’s why I wasn’t worried about the show. Or the band.
And definitely not Nash.
He could be as rock star smooth as he wanted, but when my ass was across the country, that would be that.
Plus, with the amount of half-naked women - and probably fully naked by the end of the show - he would be distracted in no time.
I took the girls to a side door where Toby was waiting.
I couldn’t believe he was the guy I ran into in the lobby of the building.
“You can go anywhere you want, sweetie,” Toby said as he slipped his pudgy hand around my shoulder. “And don’t worry about a thing. The warning has been given to Nash.”
“Warning?” I called out over the music blaring from the speakers.
“That you’re untouchable,” he said. “Made it very clear that if he tries anything at all, the deal is off the table. And I will personally cut his dick off. And I’m sure the rest of the band will go along with it.”
“Right,” I said.
My heart started to race.
The walls felt like they were already closing in.
Being near the band - and Nash - was one thing.
Now being labeled untouchable?
It was almost like… virginal.
And since when did guys like Nash ever follow the rules?
Nash walked across the stage like he was twenty feet tall. He was in the same clothes as when I saw him before. Only now he had a long red bandana tied to one of the belt loops on his jeans. His wrists full of bracelets. Rings on his fingers. Carrying an acoustic guitar with such commanding poise.
At the mic, he ran a hand through his sweaty hair and flicked it into the crowd.
All the ladies screamed and wiped their faces, ready to cry because Nash’s sweat was on them.
I shook my head.
That kind of stuff I didn’t quite understand.
“Take your shirt off!” someone screamed in a quick moment of silence.
Nash looked at Jay and handed him the acoustic guitar.
With one hand, Nash peeled his shirt off his body.
His low-cut jeans showed a V cut that made me turn my head for a second.
Zoe’s eyes were lit up. Her bottom lip moving as though she were talking.
When I put my eyes back to the stage, Nash was shirtless.
He leaned forward and dropped the shirt into the crowd.
That ensued a fight between two women which ended when the shirt ripped in half. As quick as they were to punch each other they were that quick to hug and become friends because they each got a piece of Nash’s shirt.
He stood there, shirtless, muscles cut from his shoulders down to his jeans. Tattoos carefully gracing his body, each one probably with its own wild story.
When he reached for the guitar from Jay, muscles flexed.
“So. Fucking. Hot.” Zoe’s voice battered my eardrum.
I lifted my shoulder to knock her away.
“Okay, babe,” Nash said as though he were talking to one person. “This is called You Only Cry.”
The entire place erupted.
I knew the song by heart.
Damn me for that.
Now I was getting to see it live.
Nash slowly strumming the chords to the song. Jay playing quiet, echo filled backing notes. Dex strumming along with Nash. Reed playing bass gently to not overpower the song. And Sab behind the drum kit, hitting the cymbals with precision.
I took your hand, one last time tonight
Your eyes were empty, in this cold dark fight
I never meant, to really walk away
We gave it a shot, not knowing what to say
And now I see you, standing so tall
Pushing away the world, pushing it all…
You only cry when you’re alone
You only cry when I’m not at home
You only cry when you’re feeling pain
You only cry… because of me again…
The lyrics slipped through my mind the same as the drink in my hand. It was whatever crap fruity drink Zoe had ordered for herself. She got one for Sky too. Christy was typical Christy with a beer bottle in her hand, foot up against the wall, nodding along to the song.
“You only cry! Because of me again!” Zoe yelled-slash-sang into my ear.
She grabbed my hand and jumped up and down.
“Hey, babe, you sing the next part,” Nash said.
He stepped back from the mic and waved everyone on.
I stole that love, the one you said
You’d never give, the one you meant
To save for someone, not like me
For someone, who could just be
And now I see you, running away
Looking back once, and for all didn’t you say…
You only cry when you’re alone
You only cry when I’m not at home
You only cry when you’re feeling pain
You only cry… because of me again…
Zoe pulled herself closer to me and let out a scream as Jay started to play the famous guitar solo. Nash and Dex faced each other, strumming their guitars, nodding along as Jay casually walked along the edge of the stage, hitting each note perfectly.
At the last note of the solo, he threw his head back and bent back, holding the note as Nash walked back to the mic to sing again.
There was no denying the power of Filthy Line.
How good they were.
How sexy they were.