Take Me with You (Take Me #2)(50)
Author: K.A. Linde

His eyes were like molten lava, burning away my clothes and seeing through to my heated body. I’d never felt such desire for someone before. Watching him perform usually made me appreciate him more, but I was flat-out turned on.

And standing next to my brother while my boyfriend eye-fucked me from the stage was a little uncomfortable—especially when Aaron leaned over.

He whispered to me, “The lead singer looks like he’s going to pull you onstage and do something obscene.”

I bit my lip, trying not to get excited at the prospect. I should have been horrified. The old Aribel would have been horrified. I could only find a mild embarrassment that my brother had noticed.

I probably should have told Aaron that I was dating the lead singer of the opening band, but I’d wanted to judge his reaction. When we’d shown up, he had been confused because I didn’t have another guy in tow, but I’d explained we were going to meet him after the opener. It was sneaky on my part, but I couldn’t help it.

When Grant had announced they were from the shore, Aaron had leaned over and told me he thought that was cool. Apparently, he had spent some time on the shore during his four years at Princeton. We had overlapped during his last year at school because we were only three years apart, but I couldn’t remember him mentioning the shore.

I sang through the list of songs that ContraBand performed, and then “White Hot” came on.

“You sure seem to like their music,” Aaron mused.

I tried not to blush as Grant sang out the sexual lyrics to a sea of people. His eyes found mine, and he licked his lips in between verses. The image seared into my mind. I found I couldn’t tear myself away.

Aaron bobbed his head to the music. “I really like this one. Great lyrics.”

Now, I really was blushing.

“White Hot” ended, and McAvoy started up the drumbeat for “Life Raft.” The cheers intensified tenfold.

The lights dimmed, and a spotlight shown on Grant. He held the microphone up to his mouth as if it were life or death.

Then, his sweet voice came through the speakers as he said, “This song goes out to the love of my life.”

A chorus of, “Aw,” went up through the crowd as Vin and Miller brought the opening chords to meet McAvoy.

I felt like jelly, and I was completely rooted to the spot. Grant had called me the love of his life to an entire audience. Aaron was saying something in my ear, but I couldn’t even hear what it was over the sound of Grant’s smooth voice.

God, he was such a perfect jackass. I hated that he was on tour. I hated that he had to be away from me. Despite the fact that we were opposites, we loved each other so much.

“Aribel?” Aaron said, waving his hand in front of my face.

“Oh. What?” I snapped out of my trance.

“This song sounds really familiar. I feel like a friend from school recently sent it to me. Are they from Princeton?”

I glanced between my brother and the band. “Yeah, they are.”

“Have you seen them before?”

I nodded cautiously. “Yes.” Then, I took a deep breath and gave in. I pointed up at Grant with a smile. “That’s my boyfriend.”

Aaron stared between me and Grant and then back. His mouth slightly hung open. His eyebrows were scrunched up in confusion. “You’re dating the lead singer?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Aribel,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re totally fucked.”

I heavily breathed out.

Shit!

That was not the reaction I had hoped for. Maybe it was what I had expected, and that was the reason I hadn’t told Aaron in the first place. But I hadn’t wanted to believe I was in as much of a hole as I was going to be with my parents. If that was the first thing Aaron had said though…he was probably right.

Grant finished out the last few lyrics of “Life Raft.” I applauded with the crowd, but the elation from moments earlier was replaced with fear.

How would my parents react when they met Grant? What would they say when they found out he was in a rock band? How completely fucked was I?

I didn’t want it to matter. I was a strong woman who could make my own choices. Over Christmas break, I had realized how truly alone I felt in the world my parents had created, and that was only due to the changes that came with Grant being in my life. But my parents’ opinion still mattered to me.

I wanted them to like him for who he was. I hated the fact that they were going to judge him before they ever got to know the Grant I had fallen in love with.

With a resigned sigh, I wove Aaron out of the auditorium, through the theater lobby, and to the entrance to the backstage. I flashed our backstage passes, and then we entered the chaotic world behind the scenes. The crew was frantically switching out equipment from ContraBand to The Drift. A small line of fans were still standing in front of the remaining Drift members, who were taking pictures and signing autographs.

But I didn’t spot Grant.

I ushered us through the crowd and almost made it to the dressing rooms before a staff member stopped us. Then, Donovan Jenkins appeared out of thin air. It was as if he had a fucking radar for my presence.

“Ari,” he said. He nodded his head at me and gave me a devious smirk. “So glad you could show up again.”

“Donovan, do you know where Grant is?” I asked impatiently.

“Somewhere around here, I’m sure. And who is this?” he asked, pointing out Aaron. “I feel like I won a bet or something. You’re here with another guy. It’s almost too perfect.”

I sighed. Asshole. “Donovan, this is my brother, Aaron. Aaron, this is the lead singer of The Drift. We wonder how he’s talented when he’s such an asshole, too. Don’t worry. Common reaction.”

Donovan gave me a disbelieving look and then shook Aaron’s hand. “What’s up, man?”

Aaron nodded at him, completely unfazed that he was meeting a celebrity. We were definitely related.

Then, Grant rounded the corner, and my eyes were only for him.

“Donovan, you near my girl again?” Grant asked.

He smirked. “Just meeting her brother.”

Grant staggered a half step, and then he quickly recovered. He continued to swagger down toward us. He had toweled off after the show and then thrown on his leather jacket. His hair was still damp from sweat.

In that moment, I didn’t care who was watching—not Donovan, not my brother, not anyone.

I rushed forward and threw my arms around Grant’s shoulders, knocking our bodies together as we collided. His arms wrapped around my waist and tightly tugged me against him. He breathed in my hair and sent shivers down my spine as he kissed my neck.