Page 84 of Second Sets Omnibus

“This last song goes out to a very special girl,” Kieran says, side-eyeing me from the side of the stage with a knowing grin. “We have a new song for you all! It’s called: The Roaring River.”

When the new tune comes through the speakers, I sputter, choking on my spit, and he growls my name into the microphone. Finally, after a solid minute of choking on my tongue, I catch my breath and record the song’s chorus. Every word makes my cheeks heat, and butterflies blossom in my stomach. When I peer over at Tessa, her lips set into a straight line, and she frowns in my direction.

“I won,” I mouth to her and then flip her off for good measure.

Take that. You mean girl.

As the music dies,the boys wave their goodbyes at the edge of the stage. Large, beaming grins adorn their faces when the crowd goes nuts, cheering them on with hoots and hollers. Watching from the sidelines, I smile as they jump up and down with their hands in the air. Their music hums through my veins long after the last note. My fingers tap along my bare leg as the beat pounds in my head, never forgotten. Their lyrics will hide in my mind for years to come, even if they fizzle out—highly doubtful at this point. In my mind, we’re already in California, celebrating the win of the Battle of the Bands. Whispered Words isn’t meant for the small stage. They’re meant for the entire world to hear.

“We want more! We want more! We want more!” the crowd chants, pumping their fists in the air.

Kieran’s gaze finds mine immediately. With a nod, he grins more and turns back to the crowd.

“One more!” His voice reverberates through the screaming crowd as they jump for joy.

Standing back, I dig my phone out of my pocket and hold it up for the last time tonight. Kieran gives me the thumbs up, belting out the first line of their encore song. This time when I press record, I test out the live function on ClockTok, hoping to give their other fans a fiery treat of sweaty man meat performing on stage. And boy, their comments don’t disappoint.

So, fucking hot!

I want to lick the sweat from his nipple!

That one makes me snort and shake my head. No one’s licking that man’s or any of these men’s nipples—but me.

Wow! They sound so good! They aren’t signed?

Holy shit, when can I see them in concert? Are you guys coming to Texas?

Come overseas!

Kieran girl for life!

I’d give my left tit for Rad!

Me too, sister. Me too.

Asher looks hot!

Callum’s so cute!

Flashes of their future fame fly through my mind in rapid succession. I realize then Whispered Words would be famous enough one day to have gaggles of girls following their every move, hoping for a piece of their pie if I left for California and stayed with them. Is this what it will be like? Will I have to swim through an ocean of horny women begging for a piece of what’s mine? Fuck. Why are my thoughts suddenly coming to this futuristic planning of bashing in groupies’ faces?Focus on the present, River! And stay in it.

“All right, Central City!” Kieran’s breathless voice booms through the speakers, quieting down the rambunctious crowd, growing drunker and drunker by the minute. “You guys have been great! Thanks for having us! Check-in with us on FlashGram and ClockTok to stay updated on our performances.We’ll see you at Dead End on Halloween. Details are on our sites.” He grins, placing the mic back on its stand, waving one last time as I turn off the recording.

Rad doesn’t waste a minute rushing off stage, whipping his shirt off with an excited whoop. His bare chest glistens with sweat, reflecting off the dull streetlights. It drips down his beautiful abs, forcing my eyes to watch the descent, momentarily stunned by the sight. Shit. They have to stop pulling me in with their bodies, music, and souls. Or I’m a damned goner, for sure. I can keep telling myself over and over that this isn’t going anywhere, that this is in the present. But the more I think about it, the more the future calls. Is it so wrong to want to spend years with them instead of months?

“Pretty Girl!” he shouts, charging toward me at full speed with mischief glistening in his eyes.

I grunt when he slams into me, knocking me off my feet. He chuckles when he lifts me into his arms, and his fingertips dig into my ass cheeks until my legs wrap around his waist and my arms around his neck.

“Oh my God, you’re so sweaty!” I shriek through laughter, beating a hand into his bare shoulders with fake disgust. I swear every inch of my shirt soaks with his sweat and sticks to my flesh. “Gross!” I shriek when he spins me in circles, roaring with laughter.

Like a child free of worry, he throws his head back, looking up at the sky while clinging to me. These simple moments of pure ecstasy pull me in and keep me in their grasp. When I’m with them—all of them—I’m not River West, the overworked bar manager. I’m just River West—theirs. Carefree from the music infecting my soul, I join him, letting my head fall back and howl at the damn moon.

The full moon shines down on us like a spotlight, aided by the sparkling stars twinkling above in the cloudless sky. A coolbreeze blows through my clothes, soothing the nasty sweat from my skin.

“Did we blow your panties off?” Rad rasps, leaning in until his nose touches mine when he stops spinning. “Did we rock that shit hard? Cuz, I think we did.”

His hardened dick presses into my center to prove his point, swiveling around my already-damp panties. The faint memory of his promise an hour before shines like a neon sign in the forefront of my mind. I grind against him, forcing a gasp from his lips, slowly turning into a soft moan.