A Trace of Passion Read Online Free PDF Page B

bartender, bouncer, stage crew and broom boy, The House of Blues was empty and eerily silent. The guys worked quickly, ignoring Ophelia as she nursed the last sip of her drink. The worst part of the day approached; the part where she would have to go home to an empty apartment.
    Laughter broke the silence as five men walked out on stage, holding bottles of something alcoholic. “Oi! Is the bar still open?” one of them shouted. The bartender nodded. “Bring us a round over here, mate!”
    Ophelia ducked her head, watching the men from the corner of her eye. They were Molten Silk, the band. They looked different in normal lighting, like regular people in ridiculous Goth costumes, but she was positive it was really them. Heat rushed to her face and she looked away.
    “I’m goin’ for a smoke,” said an unmistakable voice. Ophelia didn’t want to turn around and stare, but she couldn’t help peeking over her shoulder. Trace Curtis, the lead singer, headed for the door with a cigarette bobbing between his lips, lighter ready in his hand. She held her breath as he passed by, just inches behind her. She knew him back when he was Mathew Curtis, the heart-throb teen that played guitar for the lunch ladies. She didn’t know why Mathew changed his name after his debut album went platinum.
    Trace paused at the door. He turned around and glanced at Ophelia. She looked away, hoping he didn’t notice her staring. It’s not like it matters, she thought. He’s just going to keep right on walking out the door.
    “Do I know you?”
    Ophelia jumped. She turned and came face to face with Trace Curtis. A small bout of panic took her mind. Should she tell him they went to high school together? She doubted it would help. They were just as much strangers in high school as they were in adulthood and it would be best to keep it that way. She shook her head.
    He leaned against the bar counter. “Are you sure?”
    Ophelia smiled. “I think I would remember if we met before.”
    Trace wet his lips. “Have a drink with me?”
    She looked at her empty beer bottle. What harm could another beer do? “Sure.”
    Grinning, Trace snapped his fingers and ordered two more beers. He took a seat and looked Ophelia over, letting his eyes linger just long enough to make her blush. “I could swear I’ve seen you before.”
    She shrugged. “Maybe you have. I come here every weekend.” But Trace didn’t look convinced.
    “Oi, Trace! We’re going bar hopping, mate! Come on.”
    Well, that’s the end of that, thought Ophelia.
    But Trace didn’t move, except to wave his band mates away. “You guys go ahead; I’ll meet you back at the hotel later.”
    The guys made cat-calls aimed at Ophelia, her cheeks burned scarlet.
    “Sorry about them,” Trace mumbled, scowling at his friends as they left. He reached for his beer at the same time Ophelia reached for hers. A tiny shock of static passed between their fingers. Ophelia jumped and glanced at Trace. He scoffed and then moved his fingers so they glided over hers. His skin was warm and callused from years of playing guitar. His pale blue eyes studied her face.
    Ophelia bit her lip, suppressing a laugh. Oh, Mathew, you’re still just as smooth as ever; touching my hand, but keeping your gaze above my neckline. As if she didn’t know what he was after.
    Trace removed his hand and cleared his throat. “So, are you from around here?”
    She shrugged, trying not to burst into giggles. “Close enough.”
    He glanced away, looking first at the stage and then at the door. Ophelia winced. He was probably getting bored and wished he’d joined his friends. She shouldn’t have felt hurt. She shouldn’t have cared if he left. He was just one guy. But at the same time, he wasn’t. He was Mathew, her old high school crush.  And she expected him to be the same cocky dick. But he wasn’t. He was standing next to her shuffling his feet and blushing at the awkward silence like an average Joe.
    At the same