Donny is part of the security team tonight, and he looks like a grumpy sentinel standing guard at the side of the stage. With a curt bob of his head, he steps aside to allow me to pass.
Garrick brings the song to a close just as I walk up the five short steps to the platform. The girls at the front scream and shout vulgar proposals as he opens his eyes and grins at the adoring crowd. “Thank you. I’m gonna take a short break,” he says, tilting his head to the side as I approach. His eyes flit between me and the audience. “But don’t go anywhere. I’m not finished with you yet!” He flashes a blinding grin at the crowd, and I swear I hear audible swooning.
Swiveling around on his stool, he fixes me with the same dazzling smile, showcasing a set of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth behind a wide mouth and lush full lips. Dark hair curtains his handsome face, and the tousled strands look like he was repeatedly running his fingers through it. A few errant tendrils are stuck to his brow, and there’s a light sheen of sweat coating his skin. The lights are strong up here, and my shirt is already clinging to my spine. Sweeping his chin-length hair back off his face, he lifts his eyes to mine, and my heartbeat speeds up.
Camila wasn’t wrong.
This guy is totally freaking hot. Like model or rock star hot.
He’s also younger than I was expecting. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s in his early twenties. High cheekbones, smooth olive-toned skin, a strong nose, and a chiseled jawline with an artful layer of stylish stubble complete the features of his gorgeous face. He has the most mesmerizing hazel eyes, framed by long, thick black lashes. His grin expands, revealing matching dimples, as we stare at one another, and I smother a sigh.
Of course, he has dimples.
As if he wasn’t already gorgeous enough.
I realize I’m being rude and obvious in the extreme, so I shake myself out of it and break eye contact. Clearing my throat and the brain fog from my head, I hand him the bottle of water and the glass. “Manford thought you might be thirsty.” I have to shout over the noisy bar to be heard.
Placing his guitar aside, he reaches for the drink. His fingers brush against mine in the exchange, and our eyes lock together again. “That was thoughtful of you both. Thank you.”
My breath hitches in my throat, and butterflies swoop into my chest as he pins me with another glorious smile. Dimples and stunning smiles should be outlawed as a lethal combination capable of annihilating the female race. I’m pretty successful at deflecting interest from the opposite sex, but give me a set of dimples and a gorgeous smile, and I’m as ovary punched as the next girl.
Garrick climbs off the stool, unfurling to his full height. He towers over my five-feet-nine-inch frame, proving he’s well over six feet tall. His torso is lean, but his shoulders are broad and there is clear definition in his chest, abs, and arms underneath his fitted white T-shirt. Wrinkled jeans hug his long legs, and the dark denim hangs tantalizingly from his shapely hips. Worn tan boots encase large feet, and this guy truly is the full package.
It's just as well I’ve sworn off men and his effect will only be fleeting and temporary.
“Follow me,” he says, snapping me out of my ogling. He’s still grinning as he walks off, and I wonder if the guy ever stops smiling.
Confusion puckers my brow, but like a trained puppy, I trail him across the stage and through the small door at the back. It leads into a self-contained soundproofed area that was built specifically for the various entertainers who have graced the stage here. The main space, currently empty, holds a three-seater leather couch, a rectangular coffee table, a mini refrigerator, wall-mounted TV, and a table with snacks. Enclosed on the left is a small bathroom with a shower, and on the right is a private dressing area. It’s compact but appropriate.
I close the door, instantly grateful for the silence as the noisy bar outside is muted. Standing by the wall, I watch Garrick dump the bottle of water into the glass of ice and knock it back. The way his throat works as he drinks is sexy as hell, as is the way his eyes remain locked on mine the entire time. He has barely taken his eyes off me since I arrived on the stage, and I wonder if he’s always this attentive with everyone he meets. When he’s finished, he places the glass down on the snack bar with his gaze still attached to mine in a way that is starting to make me uncomfortable.
“Can I get you anything else?” I ask, my eyes darting to the door. It’s crazy busy and I need to get back. I also wouldn’t mind putting some distance between the two of us. His presence is magnetic, and it concerns me that I’ve noticed.
Little beads of sweat cling to his brow before he swipes them away with the back of his hand. His disarming smile is firmly in place as he stalks toward me. “Just your company.” He moves in closer, and his breath tickles my face when he speaks. “What’s your name, and do you go to school here too?” Curiosity lights up his handsome face as his inquisitive gaze probes mine.
“Why do you want to know?” I step sideways to create some distance between us.
“I’m just making conversation.”
There’s a weird tension in the air. A crackling charge ripping across the space separating our bodies, and I don’t like feeling some freaky connection between us. “Well, I’m working, and they need me outside, so I should go.”
“It’s too quiet in here, and I don’t like hanging around by myself.” His earnest eyes are shielding nothing, and I know it isn’t a lie or a ruse to trap me into spending time with him. “Not when I’m pumped full of adrenaline. Normally, my friends would be here, but they all had shit to do tonight.” His eyes soften. “You’d be doing me a big favor if you kept me company.” He flops down on the couch, still maintaining eye contact with me. He pats the space beside him. “I only have a short break, and I promise I won’t bite.” He flashes me another ovary-clenching smile. “I’m betting you haven’t taken a break all night. Rest your feet and take a breather.”
A break does sound nice, and he’s right. I wasn’t able to take my usual ten minutes earlier because it was too busy. Suddenly, my feet feel heavy, and my legs ache like they might go out from under me.
Garrick hops up and grabs two chilled bottles of water from the mini refrigerator as I lower my tired butt onto the couch. Fridays are always nightmarish because I have classes until lunch, then I work my shift at Butterfly Flowers, and run back to the apartment I share off-campus with my friend Ellen to grab something to eat and a quick shower before showing up for my shift at the bar. I usually sleep in late on Saturday morning, too exhausted to get up early.
“You look like you need this as much as me,” he says, handing me a water.
“Thanks, and I do. It’s hot out there tonight.”
“It’s a veritable sauna,” he agrees. “If it’s like this every Friday night, I might start showing up in nothing but shorts.”
“That would be one way of keeping your fans loyal,” I tease as I uncap the bottle.
“I’m here for the music, not the girls.” He flashes me a flirty look, that seems to contradict his statement, before gulping back his drink.
“Said no rock star ever,” I deadpan, fighting a grin.
“I’m not a rock star nor do I have any desire to be.”