Read Online Cadence (Ruby Riot Book 1) by Lisa Swallow - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lisa Swallow
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Phoenix’s antics. Mac’s half way through a story about a raid on Dylan’s hotel room on their first big tour, which ended with all parties stoned including the police sent to investigate them, when movement on stage catches my eye.
Excited shouts and a surge forward by the group of girls who’d hung back near me silence the conversations in the waiting crowd. I’m close enough to see the band. Jax is on the side of the stage next to me, but he doesn’t notice, peering out from under his fringe at the crowd before glancing at his band mates.
I love live music, more than clubs, but this is my first Ruby Riot concert. They never performed near my hometown; and when Ruby Riot hit the music industry radar, I was travelling. Near the edge of the stage, I’m too close and want a clearer view; I hop over the barrier and join the throng. I can’t be bothered fighting with the fan girls hanging over the barrier, yelling, so I step back further into the crowd. My height comes in useful sometimes, my view of the band unobstructed even though I’m several rows back.
Without a word, the band launches into their first track, a frenzied intro giving way to Ruby’s powerful voice. Some songs, you hear a thousand times on the radio or in clubs, and they stick with you because they’re good. Then, you hear them live, amongst people shouting the lyrics, infecting each other with excitement and they sound incredible. For the next few minutes, I’m surrounded by the energy of the crowd, the vibe coiling around and dragging me into their world as the bodies jostle in unison. The track finishes. Ruby Riot doesn’t speak but break into the next song, a change of tempo but as powerful as the last.
Jax.
Watching him on stage is like seeing a different person. He’s the same good-looking guy in his rock and roll uniform, but so much more. Suddenly Jax’s jeans appear to hug him that much better; and I can’t drag my gaze from his lithe, muscled body as he moves on stage. The lights capture Jax’s face as they strobe, stroking the angles of his face and highlighting a smile on his full mouth. I’ve met him several times, aware of his attractiveness, but this is different. This is Jax, the Rock Star.
Now I understand all the hype about the guy, but this isn’t hype. This is real. Jax Lewis has a presence that matches his talent and I’m enthralled by him.
At school, boys learned the aphrodisiac nature of forming a band; for some reason put a guitar into a guy’s hands who can play, and girls are guaranteed. Put that guitar into the hands of the talented, self-assured, and smoking hot Jax Lewis and the girls queue around the block. Literally.
A few minutes later, Jax speaks a simple thank you to the crowd and an intro to the next song; the girl next to me screams his name. I rub my ear and scowl at her, but I get it. I totally get it.
As Jax eases into the performance, he relaxes further and his confidence radiates into the audience. Jostled by the eager dancers either side of me, I stand transfixed, the memory of our charged meeting this morning heating my blood further. I’m gone. Lost. Jax has me in his spell, each note he plays vibrating beneath my skin until I’m unaware of the rest of the band, willing him to notice me.
A pause between tracks and Jax lifts a hand to push hair from his face. I’m close enough to see the dark patches where the perspiration dampens his t-shirt across his chest and the way his hair messes further with the action. I’m also close enough to see when Jax scans the crowd, smiling. A hundred girls’ hearts explode and I’m betting there’s some panty dampening going on that has nothing to do with being in the middle of a sweaty crowd.
I’m not immune from the effect either, and my involuntary lust for this guy shocks me.
When Jax’s look rests on me, my brain empties and the remaining oxygen in the claustrophobic crowd disappears. Jax’s attention remains fixed on me and I smile.
Excited shouts and a surge forward by the group of girls who’d hung back near me silence the conversations in the waiting crowd. I’m close enough to see the band. Jax is on the side of the stage next to me, but he doesn’t notice, peering out from under his fringe at the crowd before glancing at his band mates.
I love live music, more than clubs, but this is my first Ruby Riot concert. They never performed near my hometown; and when Ruby Riot hit the music industry radar, I was travelling. Near the edge of the stage, I’m too close and want a clearer view; I hop over the barrier and join the throng. I can’t be bothered fighting with the fan girls hanging over the barrier, yelling, so I step back further into the crowd. My height comes in useful sometimes, my view of the band unobstructed even though I’m several rows back.
Without a word, the band launches into their first track, a frenzied intro giving way to Ruby’s powerful voice. Some songs, you hear a thousand times on the radio or in clubs, and they stick with you because they’re good. Then, you hear them live, amongst people shouting the lyrics, infecting each other with excitement and they sound incredible. For the next few minutes, I’m surrounded by the energy of the crowd, the vibe coiling around and dragging me into their world as the bodies jostle in unison. The track finishes. Ruby Riot doesn’t speak but break into the next song, a change of tempo but as powerful as the last.
Jax.
Watching him on stage is like seeing a different person. He’s the same good-looking guy in his rock and roll uniform, but so much more. Suddenly Jax’s jeans appear to hug him that much better; and I can’t drag my gaze from his lithe, muscled body as he moves on stage. The lights capture Jax’s face as they strobe, stroking the angles of his face and highlighting a smile on his full mouth. I’ve met him several times, aware of his attractiveness, but this is different. This is Jax, the Rock Star.
Now I understand all the hype about the guy, but this isn’t hype. This is real. Jax Lewis has a presence that matches his talent and I’m enthralled by him.
At school, boys learned the aphrodisiac nature of forming a band; for some reason put a guitar into a guy’s hands who can play, and girls are guaranteed. Put that guitar into the hands of the talented, self-assured, and smoking hot Jax Lewis and the girls queue around the block. Literally.
A few minutes later, Jax speaks a simple thank you to the crowd and an intro to the next song; the girl next to me screams his name. I rub my ear and scowl at her, but I get it. I totally get it.
As Jax eases into the performance, he relaxes further and his confidence radiates into the audience. Jostled by the eager dancers either side of me, I stand transfixed, the memory of our charged meeting this morning heating my blood further. I’m gone. Lost. Jax has me in his spell, each note he plays vibrating beneath my skin until I’m unaware of the rest of the band, willing him to notice me.
A pause between tracks and Jax lifts a hand to push hair from his face. I’m close enough to see the dark patches where the perspiration dampens his t-shirt across his chest and the way his hair messes further with the action. I’m also close enough to see when Jax scans the crowd, smiling. A hundred girls’ hearts explode and I’m betting there’s some panty dampening going on that has nothing to do with being in the middle of a sweaty crowd.
I’m not immune from the effect either, and my involuntary lust for this guy shocks me.
When Jax’s look rests on me, my brain empties and the remaining oxygen in the claustrophobic crowd disappears. Jax’s attention remains fixed on me and I smile.
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