Page 32 of Between Takes
She’d frowned when she’d first spotted Shaun but said nothing, which was a relief. I did not feel like fielding twenty questions over this little outing. She tried to drag me into the crowd until we both noticed the uncomfortable look on Shaun’s face. I’d sent her to claim her spot and confined myself to watching from the side of the room.
A narrow stage took up the bulk of the front wall. Black walls and burgundy curtains provided the only decorations. A sound booth took up one side wall with a merch stand opposite. Pillars held up the second level, framing the bar at the back of the room and a row of cocktail tables and stools. The top level was closed off, keeping the crowd condensed and ramping up the atmosphere.
“You don’t like live music,” I shouted at Shaun, struggling to be heard over the thump of the drums.
His gaze dropped to mine, his expression oddly blank, like he was controlling his responses. I frowned at that.
“I like it well enough.”
“Liar. You’re all tense. Not a single inch of you enjoys this.” I nodded towards the mixed crowd. Their attention was avidly fixed on the stage and the band giving their all to this performance. “Every single one of them is smiling, nodding their heads or tapping their feet. They’re enjoying it. You are not.”
Shaun shrugged rather than responded, which was fair considering it took effort to be heard.
“Why are you here?”
He studied me, considering his answer. Or which lie to spin next. “Today sucked, and I needed to do something other than go home and get drunk,” he shouted, leaning towards me to be sure I heard him, or that no one else did. “And I wanted to get to know my assistant.”
I frowned at the last part. Why did he have to come to a gig to get to know me? And while I was thinking about it, did he regularly get drunk at home alone? All the things that were inappropriate for me to ask my boss, but really, I’d positioned myself out of the normal box from day one.
I nodded. It was fine; he was just being friendly and it looked like asshole Shaun had gone into hibernation. I could handle this.
“Does it have to be this loud?” he asked, his lips brushing against my hair. My heart just about burst from my chest with surprise. A shiver raced down my spine, adding fire to the desire I had been trying very hard to tame.
“Oh geez. Have you never been to a gig before?”
Shaun studied the ground.
“How? I thought you and Lily were involved before she took off. Surely that involved gigs?”
“They were a bit more civilised than this.”
I snorted again. “She’s a pop-rock sensation. I don’t believe you.”
“I went to one in the very beginning and absolutely hated the crowds. Unlike my friends. After a while, the venues got bigger and separate areas were set up for family and friends.” He glanced back at me, a genuine smile tugging up the edges of his lips. “And they had earplugs.”
I chuckled and fixed my attention back on the stage. Earplugs? No, thank you.
The band was a local group led by a female singer who was kicking ass up there. She was also gorgeous, and from what I could see, most of the front row comprised of men. Tilly must have had a hell of a time claiming her space.
I glanced at Shaun slyly from beneath my lashes. He didn’t look the slightest bit interested. He wasn’t even looking at her. Instead, he seemed too busy glaring at the soundie in the sound booth.
Unbelievable.
I nudged him and he lowered his head towards mine. “The soundie can’t help you,” I shouted. “Just enjoy the damn show.”
“He’s the one looking at me.” His attention dropped to his beer, and he grimaced. “And I would if this beer didn’t taste so damn flat and my feet weren’t sticking to the floor.”
My gaze flicked to the soundie, and right enough, he kept glancing at Shaun every few seconds. Uh oh. He recognises Shaun. I scanned the crowd. No one was sneaking glances over their shoulders, but that meant nothing. How long did we have before we got mobbed? Would they mob him? Sweat prickled my skin at the thought. Why hadn’t he brought a bodyguard?
I forced my attention back to Shaun. “The floors aren’t sticky and the beer isn’t flat. It’s just not up to your one-hundred-pound-bottle-of-whisky standards.”
The band wrapped up and the volume dropped, replaced with a playlist of studio recordings. People made a rush for the bar and toilets, while I just tried not to get swept away in the crowd. I wouldn’t have been surprised if some people actually left, only turning up for their friends and favourites. Shaun caught my hand and pulled me to him, sheltering me from the crush. Tucked under his arm, I couldn’t ignore the heat of his body and the alluring scent of his cologne.
On stage, the band’s friends helped swap out instruments. The opening band plucked up their equipment and helped clear the stage for the next act. Soon, the chatting level off stage rose, anticipation building.
I spied Tilly’s multi-hued pastel hair through the crowd. She got her front row, at least.
“Are you okay?” Shaun asked as someone bumped into us with no apology.
