September Rain Bk 2, Savor The Days Series Read Online Free PDF

like a
clown. Kick their asses? Why not, ‘have a
great show’? Or ‘break a leg’?
    “You did fine,” Avery assured me
later. And when I told her what Jake said, we had major giggles
over it. She was super happy for me and encouraged me to act on
what I was feeling.
    “I’ll think about it.” I
whispered.
    “A hot-ass rocker . . .
Scratch that. The hot-ass lead singer of your
favorite band just offered himself to you! He’s all you talk
about.” She knocked on my head, doing her best Biff Tannen
impression. “Hello, McFly? What’s there to think about?”
    The very idea made me nervous. What if
he didn’t mean it? Or worse: he did mean it and then was
disappointed in me after?
    All of the angst melted to extreme
excitement when Analog Controller took the stage. Jakes’ gifts had
the audience aglow, screaming with righteous enthusiasm. He was on
fire, too, holding the steady flame of his eyes on me throughout
the show. I watched his mouth smooth over the mic-head as he
sang:
    If I were smart, I'd
run.
You kill for pleasure. Torture for fun.
Expectation gives way. You’ve won.
Just come over here, you look like fun.
    I jumped and moshed and
sang along to every song, enjoying his attention and the growing
need sparked by the words he whispered to me in the back room. I
wanted to know his way ; the path he’d promised to lead me down. When the set was
over, I cheered until my voice cracked and the band disappeared
into the bowels of The Mystic Muse.
    Avery and me went with the flow of
traffic, dispersing to other parts of the club once the stage was
empty.
    By the time the next band was
introduced, most people were crowded up at the front once more. But
Jake was in back, sitting at the bar amid a small, lingering
crowd.
    I was sure approaching a guy was the
hardest thing I had ever done, but he made it easier. First with
his invitation, then with his freshly showered hair and
head-to-toe, dark brown outfit that made his milky skin seem like
it had been dipped in caramel. His not-so-baggy jeans gave just a
peek of the top of his boxers. His long, thin t-shirt gathered at
his waist like he hadn’t taken the time to pull it all the way
down.
    “Keep performing like that, Jake, and
the label reps will turn into groupies.” I gushed, trying to be
funny.
    He turned his powerful eyes on me. “I
don’t pay attention to groupies.”
    I wasn’t sure if he heard my lame
joke, but knew that his response was molded by modesty. There were
at least half-dozen women in his vicinity after that performance.
But he was telling the truth, he didn’t exchange anything more than
pleasantries with them.
    He was leaning against the bar holding
his complimentary drink of choice—Jack and Coke. Every guy in the
band got free drinks. He had a believable fake ID. We all did, but
mine only said I was eighteen.
    He eyed me as I gushed, trying to tell
him how much I loved what he had created.
    “You know what I love?” He
interrupted, and there was something in the way he stood and leaned
in with his hips, like he was going to tell me something very
important and couldn’t risk the words getting lost in the
surrounding noise.
    “What?” I barely breathed, remembering
the way he whispered in my ear.
    Jake leaned in close, setting his lips
at the shell of my ear and speaking low, “I love that you thought
about my offer and came to find me.” He drew back and gulped down
the last of his drink. “How old are you, again?”
    Avery was standing behind him, talking
with the drummer, Max, and a group of other people. Her eyes popped
wide when she heard the question.
    I started to answer, “I’m
seventeen,” but Avery’s rapid hand signals flew behind Jakes head,
screaming at me, “Say ‘eighteen!’ you
idiot!”
    So, I improvised “I’m . . . s-super
close to eighteen. Hours away, actually.”
    Jake set his empty glass on the bar
and wrapped both arms around my shoulders. “Really? Well, lucky me.
And lucky you, too. Happy