Page 62 of Just What She Needed

"No, just catnapping." Sara opened her eyes a slit and smiled. "It's just that Ro—" She covered her mouth and pretended to cough. "My husband and I have such different schedules, and when I'm able to catch up with him, I never do get used to the late nights before I have to go back home."

"Have long have y'all been married?" While Rhett had been a rabid Illicit fan since her teens, the majority of her obsession had been centered on Rhys. She knew who the other members were, of course, but never bothered with any information other than their names and the instruments they played.

Sara smiled. "Twenty-eight years, can you believe it? We both grew up in Melroy, Alabama, this teeny-tiny little place that's barely on the map, so we've known each other our whole lives. We didn't get married until we were in college, though."

"So, you've been there since the very beginning." Rhett glanced at the stage to make sure Sara knew what she meant.

"Sure have." She rolled her neck and sat up a bit straighter. "It's been a wild ride, but I love it." Before Rhett could reply, Sara lifted her head like an animal scenting the wind. "Here we go."

Confused, Rhett looked toward the stage. The road crew was gone, and she saw nothing except David's drum kit, towering stacks of amplifiers, and an enormous backdrop depicting the same photo that was on her pass, minus the writing. Except for the stage, all the lights were still on. She turned to Sara for clarification.

"What do you mean?"

"This song. It's the one they play just before they go on."

Rhett listened a moment. The song was vaguely familiar, but what did it have to do with Illicit?

"This isn't one of their songs, is it?"

Sara shook her head. "No, it's 'Still Running' by Chevelle. Just hold your horses. You'll see in just a—"

Right in the middle of Sara's sentence, they were plunged into darkness as the house lights went out, and seventeen thousand people promptly lost their minds. Rhett and Sara jumped to their feet with everyone else and added their voices to the cheers and screams reverberating around the arena and almost drowning out the music.

Two pinpricks of light appeared at the back of the stage, and Rhett realized they were the headlights on the Lamborghini. They grew brighter and larger, making it appear as if the car was speeding toward the front of the stage. Just as they were almost too bright to look at directly, the song cut off, overlaid with the sound of screeching brakes and crumpling metal. Then the distinctive, smoky voice of Rhys James sang the two title words of the Chevelle song into the silence.

His voice was still echoing through the speakers when twin columns of flame erupted into the air on either side at the back of the stage. The powerful stage lights blazed on, illuminating Illicit who roared into their own "Exceeding the Speed Limit."

Adrenaline shot through Rhett's body and left her heart pounding and her skin tingling. "Ohmygod," she yelled, even though she couldn't hear her own voice over the bombast of music. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!" She realized she was jumping up and down like an idiot, and stopped, her hands clapped over her mouth in mortification.

Sara's arm came around Rhett's shoulders. "You go right ahead and let that fangirl out, sweetie," she yelled into Rhett's ear. "That gorgeous man right there is yours, so just cut loose and enjoy it."

Laughing, Rhett realized Sara was right. This was no time to hold back. She raised her arms above her head and let out a long and protracted "Woooo!" the universal rock 'n roll sound for extreme approval.

Yes, that man on the stage was hers, but he was Rhys times ten. Her hungry gaze swept him from head to toe, taking in every detail. His skintight black leather pants were so low-slung that there were a good three inches between the waistband and the hem of his white T-shirt. Or what was left of his T-shirt. It looked like he'd taken a pair of scissors to it, removing the collar and sleeves, and slicing open the side seams almost to the bottom. Rhett pressed her lips tight at the sight of his flat stomach, and the teasing peeks of his firm obliques through the slits in his shirt.

But it wasn't the clothes that made her unable to take her eyes from him. He was just so there, and for the first time she understood the phrase "larger than life." Everything she found so familiar seemed to be amplified by a thousand. His smile more charming, doubly naughty, the swagger as he strode across the stage more pronounced, his hair appearing lusher with rays of actual sunlight among the flowing strands. And the way he teased the crowd with just the movements of his body had them smashing themselves against the security barricade, desperate to get closer to him.

The band kept the energy level high and played cuts from the new album interspersed with old favorites. About forty-five minutes in, though, there was a definite shift in the feel of the show, almost like they were going to take a break although no one left the stage.

Sara leaned forward in anticipation. "This must be what Ross was talking about. I can't wait to hear this."

Before Rhett could reply, Rhys shook his hair back and smiled at the crowd.

"Ready for something a bit different, then?"

Rhett couldn't help but grin. She noticed that his British accent, softened by his years in the States, had been back in full force since the concert began. She didn't know if he was doing it on purpose, or if the lights and the atmosphere just brought it out of him.

After the roar of affirmation from the crowd died down a little, he nodded. "Right. So, like most musicians, all of us got our start in what are usually called Garage Bands."

"Dude." Drew spoke into his own mic. "It's pronounced ga-RAHGE, not GERE-uj."

"Yeah? Suck my dick," Rhys responded. Immediately every female at T.D. Garden screamed her willingness to accommodate him. Grinning, he pushed his hair back. "Really?" After more screaming assent, he shrugged and beckoned with one hand. "Come on, then."

"Shit, security is gonna kill him," Sara said, her voice full of laughter. But Rhett hardly heard her, because while Rhys might have been grinning out at the crowd, his beckoning hand was aimed at the section in which she sat. Come on, then indeed. She couldn't wait to take him up on that offer.

While the security detail lined up in front of the stage was busy pushing back those girls who decided Rhys was serious, he continued talking, ignoring the commotion below him.

"And while we were in those guh-raaaggge bands, we covered some of our favorite songs, or ones that meant something to us at the time. So tonight we've each chosen one to play. But you'll have to guess which of us chose which song. Think you're up for it?"