More than Music

21

“Wow, you looked horrified by his question,” Jared said.

“I know!” Kyle said. “Did you see her face when he asked that?”

“Yeah, hilarious,” I said, trying to make light of it so they would move on as soon as possible.

“Is the idea really that bad?” Jared asked.

“No!” I said, a little too loudly. “I was just surprised when he asked me that.”

“I love it.” Hector cracked up. “Maddie’s the one girl disgusted by the idea of dating you.”

“Ha f*****g ha.” Jared threw a crumpled–up, oil-covered napkin at Hector, who tossed it back at us. Naturally, it landed on my lap. I threw it at Kyle, and it bounced off his head and hit the floor. He gave a mock-growl, and we all laughed.

Our laughs cut off instantly the second the show was back on. The stage turned, revealing me clutching my guitar like it would protect me from the audience somehow, and Jared looking confident and sexy as usual, a man born to be on stage. Hector started us off, and he was an animal on the drums. His muscular arms pounded away while sweat dripped down his forehead, and his energy fueled the rest of our performance. Meanwhile, Kyle bobbed his head to the music, sometimes playing the keyboard one-handed and getting the crowd going. I hadn’t seen either of them when we performed, and it was fun to watch them now.

And then there was me. Stiff. Wide-eyed. Looking like I was about to bolt off the stage. It was obvious who the weak link in the band was, and even worse, this was on TV for the entire country to see. I might have been playing the song, but I just wasn’t bringing it.

The mentors began buzzing for us, and on the bed, my fingers dug into the sheets, itching to get back on stage with my guitar and relive that moment. Jared’s hand slipped between our bodies, and he tangled his fingers with mine, sending a jolt under my skin. I wanted to look at him, to see his face when he squeezed my hand, but then it would make the moment too real. Instead, I kept my gaze on the screen while Jared’s thumb brushed against the spot on my wrist where my pulse raced, making my lips part with a silent sigh. None of the other guys noticed, too busy watching the mentors fight over our band on TV. They showed the clip of the guys all hugging after the audition, with Jared pulling me in to join them, before the show moved on to the next band.

Jared finally released my hand and put his fingers back on the laptop, allowing me to breathe again.

“That was pretty good,” he said. “Even though I sucked at bass, and my voice was too pitchy on the third verse.”

“You were fine,” Kyle said. “I screwed up the bridge though.”

“You were both amazing, and Hector, too,” I said. “I’m the one who stood there like a deer in the headlights the entire performance. And I was so shocked when a mentor buzzed for us that I lost my place.”

Jared leaned against me, nudging me with his arm. “You did great, really.”

A conflicting mix of feelings rushed through me. I wanted to rest my head against his shoulder. I wanted the other guys to leave so I could be alone with him. I wanted to escape to my room and forget about Jared completely. That was definitely the safest option.

“That was your first live show,” Kyle said, bringing me back to the moment. “You’ll do even better next time.”

Hector nodded. “Don’t stress about it, Maddie. You were really good.”

I gave them all a weak smile. “Thanks. I just don’t want to let you guys down.”

“You won’t,” Kyle said. “You just need more practice on stage, that’s all.”

Jared sat up straighter. “Look, it’s The Static Klingons.”

The four of them wore matching shirts made to look like they were crew members on Star Trek. Sean spoke for the group during their interview, describing how they practiced in an old barn in Nebraska.

“Ha! Your boyfriend lives on a farm,” Kyle said.

“He is not my boyfriend.” Sean was cute, but he was so…vanilla. So bland. He reminded me of my high school boyfriend—nice and boring and safe.

Hector smirked. “But he’d like to be.”

We quieted down as the band took the stage. Their song got the audience going, though not as much as our performance had. Sean played guitar and had a catchy, high-pitched voice—a little nasally but in a good way.

“They’re not bad,” Hector said.

“Yeah,” Kyle said. “They sound sort of like if Weezer had a love child with Daft Punk.”

“They’re really good,” I said. “And unfortunately for us, their sound is perfect for The Killers’ song.”

Jared sighed. “I wish Angel had paired us with that punk band. We’d crush them.”

“But then you wouldn’t have the chainmail bikini girl to flirt with,” Kyle said.

“Eh, she lives in Boston anyway.”

Hector snorted. “Like that matters. You’re not going to date her.”

“Hey, I already told Jared he’s not allowed to bring girls up here,” Kyle said.

“Yeah, but that means you can’t bring Alexis either,” Jared said.

“I’ll make that sacrifice to not have to deal with your women the morning after.” He made a gagging sound.

Thanks for reminding me, Kyle. And soon, Jared would have even more groupies, more screaming girls who would love to invite him to their rooms for the night. I couldn’t let myself forget the kind of guy Jared was, no matter how he made me feel. Especially since he seemed to make every girl feel that way.

The guys kept bantering until the show ended. When it was over, Hector went into the bathroom and Kyle went onto the balcony to call Alexis. Leaving me alone in a bed with Jared, our bodies much too close and my hands way too tempted to reach for him again.