Page 2 of Hard Rock Tease

I also didn't want to risk opening my mouth and freaking out in the presence of one of my music idols.

Noah scooped the papers up, gathering them into some semblance of order. His face was open and lined with pain. The emotion he exuded on stage was just as evident in person. I wondered if he was working on a new song, if this was part of his process.

Something lit up inside my chest at the thought of Noah Hart having trouble writing songs. The fact that it might not come easy to him, despite the wondrous lyrics he wrote and the passionate way he sang, gave me a small bit of comfort. Sometimes it seemed like the work that I struggled with came about so effortlessly to everyone else.

Maybe he and I had something in common when it came to that.

I was still lingering in the doorway, watching him, drinking him in. Dark tattoos peeked out of the collar of his shirt. Enough of his upper chest was exposed to make my thighs clench. One of my shaky hands gripped the doorknob. The other was pressed to my heaving chest, feeling every one of my shallow breaths.

I shouldn't have been so affected. It wasn't like I'd never met this man or his band before. I was a fan, after all. I'd seen them backstage dozens of times. I'd shaken their hands and spoke a few words to each, gotten their autographs and given them my thanks.

I'd even seen a few members of the band up close at a private event, once. Being a music student and having friends with connections in the industry had its perks. Of course, at the time, all I'd been able to do was stare at them, mouth gaping open and blushing. It had been mortifying.

I wasn't going to let that happen again. I had to get out before I made a fool out of myself.

But I had stood in the doorway for too long. I should have left when I had a chance. Noah turned to leave. He froze as his eyes met mine.

Immediately his expression shut down, eyes shuttering. His face went blank, no trace of the pain I'd seen before.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm so sorry," I replied immediately, shuffling my feet back and forth awkwardly.

His voice was flat. "No one's supposed to be here."

"I-I'm lost," I stammered.

The expression on his face was chilly, except for the lingering frustration in his eyes and the downturned corners of his mouth. He set down the papers he'd picked up from the floor on the piano.

"I'll just… leave," I said weakly.

Noah eyed me up and down slowly. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment at that penetrating gaze. I couldn't help eyeing him back. Damn, but those jeans were tight. I'd heard rumors, but he couldn't really be that big, could he? I could practically see his outline through the rough fabric.

"Do I know you?" he asked coldly.

I shook my head, trying to suppress the heat flaring between my legs.

"I've seen you before." The words weren't a question. "It was at a party. That album release."

My heart sank. The last thing I wanted was for him to recognize me. I didn't want him to think I was just another one of his swooning fangirls. Even if it was true.

"I remember." His eyes narrowed. "You were so starstruck you couldn't say a word."

I fought to shake myself out of my daze. Noah was right. Ihadbeen struck speechless before. Almost like I was now. I didn't want to let that happen again. I could pull myself together. Definitely. I could totally do that.

"Well. You know." I gestured to him.

He tapped his fingers on the top of the piano in an impatient rhythm. "No, I don't know. What?"

"You're Noah Hart," I shrugged helplessly. Noah. Fucking. Hart. I still couldn't believe it.

"You're a fan?"

I tried to make light of it. "Who isn't a fan of Darkest Days?"

"So the answer is yes?" he asked, almost mocking.

I stayed silent.