Rock Addiction (Rock Kiss #1)(44)

The brutal tenderness of it brought tears to her eyes where she leaned against one of the supports at the back of the stage, concealed in the shadows but with an amazing view. Winking at her when she’d admitted this was her first live concert, Maxwell had said she was off for the night unless something went wrong and he needed all hands on deck. So she was free to just stand there and watch Fox move those magic fingers over an electric guitar while Noah took the microphone to belt out a rock anthem that had the crowd raising their arms and joining in.

The tattoos on Fox’s arms and back shimmered under the lights, his muscles defined by the sweat that gleamed on his skin. She wanted to lick it up, the impulse warring with her desire to keep on watching him forever—he was hypnotic, beautiful, and talented. Noah leaned in close to him right then, the two playing their guitars off one another in a rhythm that was immediately picked up on and echoed by Abe and David. It made it clear exactly how long the four had been friends and musicians together.

God, they were good.

Molly hadn’t truly appreciated the amount of sheer skill it took to do what they did until she’d seen them practicing yesterday and earlier today. The lights and the fireworks, that made for a good show, but behind it all was music, solid and pure. The four of them had been goofing off this afternoon, with Abe taking the mike, Fox on the drums, Noah on keyboard, David on guitar—all out of their comfort zones, and they’d still made great music.

Maxwell came to stand beside her. “So much naked talent,” he said in her ear, as if he’d read her thoughts. “First time I heard them, I knew they’d be legends someday if they managed to stay together through the bullshit that comes with fame.”

“It’d be a tragedy if they ever broke up.” The four members of Schoolboy Choir created a stunning unit that truly was more than the sum of its parts. “Have they ever come close to it?”

“Won’t lie, been some rough times—booze, women, drugs, notoriety, it takes a toll.” Maxwell passed her a cold soft drink. “Any one of them could’ve dumped the others and struck out on his own when it got too hard, but even when they were fighting, they didn’t walk away.” A pause. “Drugs aren’t as dangerous as women.”

“It’s all right, Maxwell,” Molly whispered, rubbing a fisted hand over her heart. “I only have him for a little while—I’m no threat.”

To her surprise, the big man put his arm around her shoulders and tucked her close to the comforting bulk of him. “Maybe you should try to change that.” Startling words from the protective crew boss. “Boy’s never been this happy—and I like you.” He bussed her on the cheek in a paternal way, his beard scratchy on her skin.

David was right, she thought after he walked away—Maxwell had some weird voodoo going on.

Her pulse kicked as Fox turned his back to the audience and looked right at her. His mouth curved in a smile she knew was for her, and then he was taking the microphone once more. She exhaled, her abdomen taut. It was becoming clear she’d never become immune to Fox’s smile, his touch, his kiss, the ferocious power of his voice.

When her phone vibrated in her pocket as he started in on one of the band’s biggest hits, she ignored it before realizing she hadn’t heard from Charlotte today. They stayed in daily contact, even if it was only a short e-mail or text message to touch base. It was a habit Molly had begun after Charlotte’s mother first got sick and that was now so much a part of both their lives they rarely gave it a thought.

Pulling out the phone without taking her eyes off Fox, she glanced quickly at the message and burst out laughing. The music was so loud that there was no risk she’d interrupt the band, but she bit down on her lip to stop herself anyway. Tears in her eyes, she looked at David where he was making magic on the drums, wanting to hug him. Because the message wasn’t from Charlotte.

David sent me a memo. WTF?!

In the year and a half that Molly had known Thea—after Thea decided to do some research on her biological father out of curiosity and discovered she had a sister—Molly hadn’t seen anyone discombobulate her. “Good on you, David.”

It’d be interesting to be a fly on the wall at Thea and David’s next meeting, which was at least a week away as Thea was now officially on vacation. Not that her sister ever actually stopped working, but she was currently at the airport, waiting for her plane to the Indonesian island of Bali. The trip to see her parents had been organized well before the Sydney concert had come up, and with the local interviews now all done, Thea had decided not to cancel it.

“If you want me to continue putting out fires for you,” she’d told the band before she left, “do not do anything that interrupts my vacation.” The terse words had been directed particularly at David, whose black eye had been spectacular by that stage. “And next time someone tells you to put ice on a bruise, you listen!”

Molly had found the tone of that last pithy comment intriguing to say the least. Now, vowing to keep her nose out of whatever might end up going on between the drummer and her sister, she crossed her fingers for them both and typed a short reply: Was it a good memo?

Thea’s response was quick-smart. Bullet-pointed! With an introduction and a conclusion.

Are you memo’ing him back?

Of course I am. I have to see what he does next.

Stifling her laugh again, Molly said, Keep me updated. And have fun in Bali.