Fan Girl (14 page)

Deklan points with his YOLO tattooed hand to the front row and tells me to sit anywhere I want while they mic up. I’m one of those people that goes to the movie theater and tests out spots until I settle on the right row, directly in the middle to get the full effect. So I move around while they’re messing with their ear pieces and tuning instruments. Finally I find the perfect spot in row eight, dead center. There are huge screens on the sides of the stage to give the people in the nosebleed seats close-ups of the band as they perform. Those are blank screens right now, and there's no lights either. Just the band in a quiet room, and my own personal concert.

I lean back in my seat, prop my feet up on the chair in front of me, and drink my tasty smoothie. Tommy took his slippers off and has started hitting the bass drum, while counting out the beat. Alan, Peter, Fandy, and Tag come in while Deklan looks at me and raises the mic to his lips.

He watches me, eyes locked, while he sings about meeting in a club and hooking up. I smile, bop my head and mouth the words. But there's no sound coming from me. I want to hear him sing it. Nothing is better than a band that sounds as good, if not better, than a cd. Rolling Bridges has always been that good. They have major talent and got picked up for a record deal in high school. They shot to the top and have stayed there for going on eleven years. Hearing them live, it's not all about the lead singer. Each excels at their individual instrument, and all are true professionals at their craft.

After the song is over, they go straight into the only ballad on their current album. It's about not letting go of the feelings you have because you're scared. Titled
Unknown
, it showcases Alan's piano skills, as well as Deklan's voice. It's such a pure thing, that voice. Smooth or gravelly when he wants it to be. He can hit the falsettos or be a deep baritone. There is no other voice like Deklan Thomas out there, his instrument. Rolling Bridges’ Grammys speak for themselves.

As Alan goes into his piano solo in the middle of the song, Deklan jumps off of the stage and walks toward me. My heart starts beating faster as he sits and slouches down into the seat next to mine grinning. I offer my smoothie to him, even though it’s half gone by now. He wraps his fingers around my wrist and pulls the cup to his mouth, sucking on my straw. His five o’clock shadow, and the way his cheeks briefly suck in, cause a catch in my breath. He pushes the cup back toward me after a sip, then his eyebrows shoot up and he nods. It is seriously good. Then he leans back in his seat, head resting on the back of the chair, and puts his elbow on the armrest opposite me. He brings the microphone to his mouth, as he sets his feet up on the chair next to mine.

Deklan opens his mouth and starts singing on his cue. I rest my head on the back of my chair too, but turn to face him as I watch him sing the beautiful words. He grabs my hand and plays with my fingers, watching them as he sings, never looking up, and I just stare. I have a feeling this is as close as he gets to a serenade. He has said more than once in interviews that singing is his job, and he's good at it, but he doesn’t do it in his spare time or anything like that. Only I get this moment. As the song comes to an end, he brings our hands to his lips and kisses my fingers before plopping his feet down and jogging back up the rows, and vaulting himself onto the stage. I note that his ass looks particularly fantastic in those jeans and see all of the other guys grinning at my checking him out. As if that was in doubt. Pffft.

For the next song, Deklan grabs an electric guitar and sings with the mic on a stand. The concentration and focus he has on the guitar makes me flash back to our time in bed. Mouth slightly pursed together, eyes shining and brows bunched. Yum. He can pluck my strings anytime.
Such dirty thoughts
, I scold myself mentally! Maybe I’m going to be a nympho preggo like my Shell girl Carmen was. She would meet her husband on their lunch break to get at it, because she just couldn’t wait.

I finish my smoothie and am pleased to feel not one bit nauseous. I hold up my cup when I catch Tommy’s eye and give him a thumbs up. He does a chin lift and grins at me, still beating away at the drums. Three more songs with the guys talking to people in the sound booth at the back of the arena, adjusting until it’s just right, then Deklan makes a come here motion with his hand.

I look behind me half-jokingly, then point my thumb to my chest. “Me?” I mouth.

He nods, so I pick up my stuff and walk to the stage. He moves to the side stairs and holds a hand out to me. I climb the steps as he sings about a nice girl in a bad part of town. I set down my purse by the stairs and immediately after that, Alan starts
Dream On
by Aerosmith. Deklan is walking backward, pulling me by my hand until he gets to a stool he’d set in the middle of the stage. He sits so his face is just a little below mine and pulls me in between his legs. I settle my arms on his biceps, my fingers gripping strong muscle.

He starts singing, while with the other hand, tracing the seam of my jeans on my thigh. My whole leg instantly erupts in goose bumps. During the guitar solo he puts his arm holding the mic down against his stomach and looks at my lips. I feel them part as a little sigh escapes me that he can’t possibly hear. He licks his bottom lip and moves his eyes to mine, again bringing the microphone back to his mouth. As he starts singing again, my eyes are fastened on his mouth. I’m so close I can see this tongue ring. My breath accelerates just thinking about that tongue.

When he gets to the part ‘Dream On’, his hands move higher up the seam of my pants. Then, as he belts out screaming the part perfectly, he grips my hip bone. His body leans forward so that if I moved at all his forehead would touch my boob. I stay perfectly still. After the song is done, I feel sort of like I just had a mini orgasm. He stands up as the other guys store their instruments for later, and I struggle to get my body under control.

He's so close when he stands, that my jacket is touching his chest, and I’m already breathing hard. His hand is still on my hip bone, and I can feel his fingers squeeze. “You wanna get outta here?” he asks in a deep rumbling voice.

“Are you done?” I ask dumbly. Like he would leave if there was more sound check or something? This is his job after all.

“Yeah, we're good until the show,” he replies.

I just nod my head so nothing insane comes out. Something like
I want to have your babies… Oh wait.
He starts walking me back to the stairs, sliding his arm around me. In doing so, his thumb goes under my shirt so that it's touching the skin above my low rise jeans. This man and his magic hands are going to get me off with grazes and accidental touches alone. It's not a sacrifice, that’s for sure. I have enough working brain cells to remember to grab my purse on the way off the stage.

He checks his mic and ear pieces in with the tech guy, then steers me to the double doors again. He chin lifts to the band and says, “Later guys.”

I turn around and gush, “Thank you Tommy! I feel great. Smoothies are my new go-to.”

He lifts a hand and yells back, “No problem Ali, glad I could help!”

We walk out a door near the front. Which is kind of dangerous for him seeing as its a few hours until the concert and people are already starting to arrive. We grab a cab right away and head off.

“Whose room do you want to go to?” he asks me.

I check my phone for the time and reply, “Oh mine, I have to take a shower and change. You can drop me off if you want.”

He shakes his head, takes my hand and looks out the window. “I’ll go with you.”

I hesitate, and he catches it out of the corner of his eye, then looks at me and asks uncertainly, “What? Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” I deny quickly, “But I kind of have a ritual when I’m getting ready for a concert. I always listen to the set list. I didn’t think you would want to listen to your music for over an hour.”

He's watching me.
Trying to decide if I’m lying?
I hold up my phone, pull up my music playlist, and show it to him. He takes the phone from me, scrolls around and taps a few times, then hands it back.

“What did you do?” I ask accusingly.

He answers, “We changed the order and added
Dream On
, wanted to make sure you had it right.”

“Does that mean you're staying or going?” I ask hesitantly. Of course I want to spend time with him but I don’t want him to be uncomfortable.

“I want to go with you, if you don’t have a problem with it. We've been apart for years. I know who you are on the inside. I just want to hear it said in your voice and learn who you are on the outside,” he replies immediately.

"I don’t have a problem with it, as long as you don’t mind my singing all of your songs with my off-key voice in a fabulously acoustic bathroom while I get ready,” I warn him.

He chuckles, “I think it’ll be worth it.”

I smile and look out my window. He wants to spend time with me to the point of torture!

Chapter 14

As we ride the elevator up to my room I tell him spontaneously, “You're really good.”

He looks at me questioningly.

I explain. “At singing, performing. I’ve been going to your shows for a long time and it's never been anything less than a great performance every time. Even back when you played the little clubs and bars, you guys had it. You should be proud of everything you've accomplished, and that you've been on top for so long.” I immediately feel a blush and am mentally kicking myself, because he never said he wasn’t proud of their success.

But he nods his head solemnly instead of scoffing at me. “We definitely didn’t know all of this was possible when we started. But it's been so much fun and I think if you have a gift you should use it to the extent of your ability. For you it's tattooing, with the pictures you've shown me, you have serious talent. For us it's music, so we just keep doing it until our time is up. But I’m glad we have fans like you who have been there almost as long and have stayed with us. It's a huge compliment that we don’t take for granted. You should know that.”

“Thank you, Deklan. And thanks for the free tickets.” I smile.

He smiles back to me saying, “Thanks for coming back! And call me Dek.”

"Okay,” I agree just as the bell dings and the doors open. I walk in my room and unzip my vest, I turn to Deklan. “What will you do while I’m in the shower?”

His eyes roam my body like he's imagining me naked already. He runs his tongue over his front teeth with his mouth closed, but I can see the movement, then he lays sprawled out sideways on my bed on his stomach and pulls out his phone. Holding up his phone he says, “Check some emails or somethin’. I’m good.”

I walk to the bathroom and shut the double doors. The whole time in the shower I think of him on my bed. I keep glancing at the door like he's going to barge in naked. I finish up, get out and wrap a towel around my head then put on my white hotel robe and pull open the doors open. Deklan is lying in the same spot, head facing me, up on his elbows messing with his phone. He moves just his eyes to me, roaming my body. But now there's only a sash between clothed and naked, and I feel it keenly.

“Still good?" I question in a slightly higher voice than normal.

He nods his head slowly. “Mhmm.”

I move to the walk-in closet and shut the door before slipping into a lace bra and undies. I put the robe back on and cinch the sash tight, grabbing my clothes and heading back to the bathroom. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I realize he just saw me for the first time without any makeup on. Not that my appearance is changed all that much with it anymore. I have a good complexion, I’m tanned, my skin smooth, but everyone looks better with makeup on, if only just to highlight what you already have. Setting the clothes down, I sit on the side of the tub to put lotion on my legs. I make sure to get my ankles and knees rubbed in really well on my right leg and glance to the doors, freezing immediately.

I forgot there are full length mirrors on the back of both doors and since I didn’t open them all the way, I can see Deklan perfectly on my bed. He's not looking at me at all, totally focused on his phone, which is a bummer and relief at the same time.
I wasn’t trying to give him a show, but would it hurt if he appreciated the accident?

I stick my lotioned leg in the tub and work on the other one. There's the sugar skull in flowers on my thigh that he would notice if he bothered to look. He can probably see the side of it. Still moving my arms, I glance to the side with just my eyes, and see him watching me with a hungry look.
YES!
I turn my head and he doesn’t put his head down. Green eyes stay on me.

He clears his throat and inquires with a chin lift. “The skull?”

I nod silently.

He nods back, looks into my eyes and asks, “Can I see it?”

Oh right. I stand from the tub and take a deep breath, making sure the sash is tight around me. I walk up to him, stop about two feet away, and move the robe over to expose my upper thigh with the six inch tattoo made up of one hundred flowers.

He looks at it with the appropriate amount of awe and says, “It's beautiful.”

I nod, it is beautiful. “Reed Evans did it. He did all of mine, actually. I interned for him in college, he was my mentor,” I explain.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You mentored with Reed Evans? No wonder you're so good and your tats are so detailed. You can see every striation in the petals.”

“Thank you, and he is a great artist. Taught me a lot, I got lucky.”

Deklan shoots back, “You've got talent, Ali. You just got a teacher that knew what to do with it.”