“I’m in,” Jim was first to say. Sayid followed, then Dave, Neil and then Pete. Claire nodded encouragingly and unsurprisingly Laurelin remained silent with a juvenile look of annoyance on her face.
“Great. Time to get the guys down here and go through it with them. Sayid, Pete, go and fetch them.”
“I’m guessing we’ll need reinforcement, especially with Matt and Kip. It’s a four man job getting either one of those assholes out of bed before noon.”
“Fine. I’ll come too,” I said, rolling my eyes. If you want something doing right, do it your goddamn self. “Oh, Claire?” I called back, holding the conference room door open with one hand. “Can you call the arena and let them know we’ll be an hour early for rehearsals?”
“They won’t like that,” she replied.
“I don’t give a fuck whether they like it. That is what’s happening. Until we know for sure if an outsider has access to the schedule, we need to keep things fresh. Add some spontaneity.”
“Things don’t work like that…” she tried to argue.
“Things work however we say they work. Call them.”
“Okay,” she said, raising her palms in the air.
Now, time to go and drag the guys’ arses out of bed.
As expected, staff at the O2 Arena weren’t happy with the change in schedule, but also as expected, they couldn’t afford to fuck with a band who were bringing them so much damn money, so of course, they backed down. I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off Sawyer since the second I met him in his suite this morning. Not just because I had to keep him in my line of vision to protect his safety, but because his jeans hugged his arse so tightly every time his back was towards me my dick twitched in my pants, because the white t-shirt he was wearing had deliberate rips slashed across the front, exposing the beautiful firm lines of his chest, because his dark fringe kept falling down across his forehead, revealing his soft caramel eyes every time he swept it back in place with his fingers…
I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off him… because he mesmerized me.
Staff and technicians scurried around the stage, the tension dripping from their skin in the form of sweat, as they hurried to get everything ready for the live rehearsal. While the final sound check was being carried out I issued my team with positions, making sure each side of the stage was manned and then sending Pete and Dave to guard their dressing rooms. I situated myself on the arena floor, keeping centre to the stage with my body straight and alert and my arms folded firmly across my chest.
“Hey, boss,” Sayid said, leaving his position to quickly run over to me.
“What is it, Sayid? You’re supposed to be by the stage.”
“Laurelin told me Sawyer is planning a night out with Elle. He always runs that kind of stuff past us, but not this time. Just thought you should know.”
“Thank you, Sayid,” I replied curtly, nodding once. “We’ll discuss who’ll escort him after the photo-shoot this afternoon.”
“Sure,” was all he said before hurrying back over to his position. What was he thinking? Sawyer knows he can’t go out as and when he pleases without adequate protection. And don’t even get me started on the fact Laurelin went to Sayid and not me. I’m in charge here and I made that perfectly clear at the conference table this morning.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to dispel some of the tension that had suddenly crept up on me. When I saw Claire give me the signal from where she was standing by the emergency exit, I scanned the area one last time and asked the guys to do the same over my radio. When the all-clear was announced by all, the band slowly filtered onto the stage, and when Sawyer hopped onto his waiting stool in front of me, hitching one leg up onto the bar as he slid the strap of his guitar around his strong neck, my breath faltered.
I wonder if he knows how beautiful he is with all those lights shining on him? He will later, I decided… because I was going to tell him.
After a silent cue from one of the sound guys, Bez I think he’s called, the intro started playing, bellowing through the speakers. They were starting with their biggest hit of 2013 - Twisted. Each band member joined in at their designated spot in the song, playing their instruments and humming. Then Sawyer rested his strategically positioned fingers against the strings of his guitar, and the song really began.
Sawyer’s voice came first. The lyrics dripped from his lips in the deliciously deep, gravelly voice that could only belong to Sawyer Knight. His eyes were closed, enabling me to ogle him. Not once did I take my eyes off his face. I stared at the soft lines framing his eyes when he squeezed them closed a little tighter, at the two day old stubble coating his strong jaw, at the way his plump lips curled around every word he sang.
So beautiful…
I didn’t realise how firmly I was biting my lip as I watched him until his eyes opened, immediately locking onto me. His gaze made my jaw drop slightly, hopefully so slight it was unnoticeable, and it felt like my dick was trying to lurch towards him. A sharp intake of breath resounded through the speakers, and although it occurred at a pause in the song where he needed to draw air for the next line, I knew it was more than that. I knew it was me.
“Jake?” Claire’s voice snapped me back into the arena and my head jerked around to face her. “Everything okay?” she asked quizzically, wrinkling her eyebrows. Shit. Had my gawping that fucking obvious?
“Sure,” I answered confidently. “I was just deciding how to deal with the crowd I saw gathering outside earlier.”
“We’d usually ask the guys. Most of the time they’re willing to stop for a few photos and autographs, although Sawyer’s been in a stinking mood since yesterday so I don’t know if he’ll be up for it.”