Raw Deal (Larson Brothers #1)(23)

Rowan danced on, oblivious, but something had dulled the fragile magic of the night, and Savannah was left pondering exactly what that meant.

Nothing, it’s nothing. You had to expect it. He’s an attractive guy and built like a god. Why wouldn’t he have a goddess at his side? And why do you care?

Maybe because he had someone and she didn’t. Someone to hold her and help her endure the long, sad nights. Wouldn’t that make it all so much more bearable? If he had that and she didn’t, well, she was envious. And that was it.

The song ended and Rowan thrust both her arms in the air, cheering along with the rest of the crowd. Across the stage, Mike’s companion was doing the same thing. He stood still, though, his arms crossed over his broad chest, watching the crowd beneath the bill of his cap. When his head turned in Savannah’s direction again, his eyes were lost in shadow but somehow she felt them. She knew they were on her, that sharp blue ice roaming up and down her body.

A warm flush crept up her neck and she plucked at her shirt collar, fluttering it against her neck. So many people crowded in here, bodies pressed in on all sides. It was starting to make her sweat.

Song after song, Zane held the crowd in his thrall, but none more so than Rowan. Savannah had never seen the girl like this before. “Screeching fangirl” didn’t even begin to cover it. Raving lunatic was more like it.

“Do you need a break?” Savannah had to shout to be heard over the noise, and even then she had to repeat herself twice more. Rowan’s hair was sopping with sweat, but she shook her head adamantly as the band launched into the next song. It was good, but it was insanely loud and beginning to grate on Savannah’s nerves. Her ears were ringing. A steady throb had set up in her head.

Hoping a quick bathroom break would help, she slipped from the cluster of onlookers. Rowan wouldn’t miss her for a few minutes and besides, Zane had assigned a roadie to keep an eye on her and make sure no one tried to steal her spot at the front. But Savannah’s search for a bathroom took her through the labyrinthine backstage area, and before she knew what was happening, she was on the other side of the building, and suddenly Mike was in front of her.

She nearly leapt backward, and he stopped midstride. “Hey,” she blurted out dumbly, noticing at once that his woman wasn’t with him.

“Are you doing all right?” he asked, glancing behind her, probably looking for Rowan and trying to decide if he needed to dive around a corner.

“Sure, yeah, we’re great. I was just, um . . . I was looking for the restroom, actually.”

“Right back here,” he said, motioning for her to follow. As she obeyed, she tried not to check him out too much, but it was damn near impossible. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw tonight, and the short sleeves of his T-shirt revealed powerful, corded, and densely tattooed forearms. And those denim-stretching thighs. The man was so built, so big. Again, she’d practically forgotten what an intimidating physical presence he had. Grabbing his ass would have to be like squeezing a couple of ripe cantaloupes.

Jesus Christ! No! She nearly tripped over her own feet. He heard the scuffle of her shoes and turned to look at her. “You okay?”

“Sure, yeah, I’m great,” she stammered, then realized it was practically the same thing she’d said when he asked how they were doing. “Was that your girlfriend you were with?” It just tumbled out.

His dark brows lifted under the bill of his cap, but he waved a hand dismissively. “It’s an on-and-off thing, I guess. Off right now. But she never misses a chance to see Zane perform.”

Fuck buddy, Savannah supplied mentally. Got it. But she still didn’t like it, and that annoyed the crap out of her.

What the hell had changed here? She remembered facing this man on the worst day of her life and holding her own against him. A couple of phone calls and a nice gesture later, she was a stumbling idiot around him. She had to get a grip. Starting right now.

“Here you are,” he told her, gesturing to the restroom door. “I’ll get out of your way. Y’all have fun, all right?” With a smile tinged with sadness, he turned to go.

“Wait,” she blurted out, noticing the way his entire being went still, the way he looked so expectantly at her. So hopefully. It started a slow, melting ache in her chest. “I wanted to tell you that I didn’t necessarily want you to stay away all night. Rowan . . . she might feel differently. I’m sorry, I can’t do anything about that. But I don’t feel that way.”

God, he looked at her so long and so . . . reverently. Savannah didn’t realize how dry her mouth had become until she tried to lick her lips. Dehydration from dancing, she thought. Need water. But when she did that, his gaze dropped to her mouth, endlessly blue, and she couldn’t help but direct her own attention to his incredibly full, beautiful lips. “I’m glad to hear you say that,” he told her, his eyes flickering back up to hers.

“Really?”

He nodded, those lips tilting up a little now. “Would you want to hang out later? Talk?”

She would love that more than anything. “That sounds nice. Where?”

“You’re on my turf now, so anywhere you want. If you want quiet, we can head to Galveston. I have a beach house there.”

“I do love the beach,” she said softly. Out on the stage, the next number kicked off to a loud, appreciative cheer. “We only have swamps. But Rowan . . .”