Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1)(71)

His voice was deeply melodic, the song almost romantic, and the emotion in his voice matched the lyrics, which floored me. I’d never seen that side of him. The idea that he had that in him, but I’d never seen it, left a pretty deep wound in me, and it began to sink in that he really only saw me as a friend. He wanted me, yes, or at least he had before our falling out, but not like I needed him to, not like I wanted him. If I’d kidded myself for a moment that my feelings weren’t one sided, those hopes were dashed as he poured his soul into the song.

I’d fallen for him, but he just hadn’t fallen for me. Seeing him up there, getting clued in to all of the pieces of his puzzle, it hit me like a truck. We hadn’t just had a fight. He hadn’t just left because he was angry.

He wasn’t in love with me.

Growing up as I had, especially in my teenage years, had always made me feel a little lost. And I felt that now. Just lost. Who was I? Who was somebody like me even supposed to be? Nobody loved me. It didn’t feel like anyone ever had. So where did that leave me? Going in circles, I thought. Looking for the wrong things in the wrong people. That’s where I was. I wondered if somebody ever fell for me, like really fell, the way I did, if I would even know it. I only seemed to have guys that couldn’t give a damn on my radar.

Still, I couldn’t help but be happy for him, that he had something like this, something so big and special to show the world.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I’d gotten my strange wave of melancholy in hand by the second song in their set, which thankfully, wasn’t another love song.

“He’s like one huge pu**y magnet up there,” Frankie almost shouted into my ear.

She was right, and I hated it.

“He’s one huge pu**y magnet everywhere he goes,” I replied.

She laughed, and I smiled unhappily.

I told myself that it was good to get a healthy dose of reality. It was the first step to moving on, and I needed to get past this insanity.

The band was good. Really good. By the third song, I was dancing.

Frankie started it, shaking her hips at me, jumping around like a maniac. I had never been one to turn down any excuse to dance, and killer live music mixed with good company was the best excuse of all.

I knew that Rodney the camera guy was taping everything, and I found that I didn’t mind. In fact, I gave him a show, dancing playfully with Frankie to the heavy beat of the drum.

I loved a good rock song with some heavy drums. I closed my eyes and let the music take over, Tristan’s deep, sexy voice washing over me. How could you be so intimate with a person, and not know they could sing their heart out to a crowd of strangers?

I told myself resolutely that it didn’t matter.

They performed seven original songs, all different enough to be interesting, some edgy, some moody and emotional.

“There’s some record producer guys here tonight. James Cavendish called them in. He should be here, too. We need to find him afterward, see what he thinks. Wouldn’t it be amazing if they got a record deal?”

I nodded, my eyes wide. In my mind, there was no doubt that they would get one, they were that good.

When the set ended, the stage was overrun, mostly by women.

In a way, I was relieved, because I didn’t have to worry about actually dealing with Tristan, or any of them, for that matter. I just wasn’t up for it.

Frankie seemed to be of the same mind, tugging me in the opposite direction, out into the lounge, her eyes searching the room, before she pulled me past that too.

When she started to wander down a hall that clearly said employees only, I dug in my heels.

“Where are we going?” I asked her, eyes narrowed.

“I told you. I want to talk to James.”

“This is for employees only.”

“I work here. Kind of. Don’t worry about it. What are they going to do? Kick us out?”

I thought that’s exactly what they’d do, but I let her pull me along.

We wound up in a huge white room that I quickly caught on was for the after party.

“Frankie!” I rounded on her. “I told you. I don’t want to see anyone. Why would you drag me back here?”

She ignored me completely, waving at someone behind me, then rushing off.

I turned to see James Cavendish striding into the room, dressed for business but looking relaxed. And God, he was still as stunning as I remembered. In the brighter light of this room, even more so, his skin darker, his eyes brighter, than I’d realized.

He was grinning at Frankie, then hugging her, saying something quiet into her ear.

I approached them, feeling very out of place. I did not hang out with people like this, and I couldn’t believe that Frankie did.

James smiled at me, holding his hand out politely to shake, and we shook. “Nice to meet you, Danika. Frankie has told me so much about you.”

I couldn’t have been more shocked, and I had to scramble just to make small talk with the intimidating man. “Nice to meet you, too. We met once before, actually. Some guy got kicked out of the club for being a creeper, and you came by to make sure I was okay.”

His brows raised, and he gave me a killer smile. “I remember that. Wow, small world. I didn’t make the connection. It’s darker in the lounge, but I see it now.”

“My boss has a few paintings from your gallery. Let me just say, I’m a huge fan of some of the artists you’ve discovered. Art is a passion of mine.”