Cool it, Grant, I chided myself. What the hell was going on with me? I hadn’t so much as looked at a woman since . . . I shook myself. I wouldn’t think about that.
Saul appeared at my side. Saul always seemed to be close by these days, as if worried about what I might do if he let me out of his sight. “You’re staring again,” he remarked.
“I’m not staring,” I said, wrenching my gaze away from the scene playing out in front of me.
“Sure you’re not,” Saul said dryly. We glared at each other for a moment, Saul’s arms crossed tightly over his chest.
I broke first. “I’m sorry, man,” I said. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you earlier. I’m just . . . tense, is all.”
Saul visibly relaxed, letting his arms drop to his side. “It’s no big deal,” he said, shrugging my apology away. We lapsed into an awkward silence. “Can I ask you a question?” Saul asked finally. I shrugged. “Look, you said you were tired of us tip-toeing around you, so I’m going to put it to you straight. Why would it be such a big deal if you were interested? I mean, she’s a beautiful girl, you have to admit that. And I hate to say it, but Bernadette’s been gone for a year. Maybe it’s time to move on.”
My first impulse was to snap at him again and stalk off, but I resisted. There was no reason to destroy the relationships I had left. “I’m just not ready,” I said finally. I thought about telling him more: how I still saw Bernadette sometimes, in a crowd, disappearing around a corner; how I sometimes worried that I was going crazy—but I held back.
Saul nodded as he considered this. “Okay,” he said finally. “I won’t push it anymore. I just hope you realize you can’t keep punishing yourself forever. Eventually, you’re going to have to have fun again.” He gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. “Now come on, we’re up.”
“I’ll be right there,” I mumbled, gesturing for Saul to go ahead. Chris and Lester were making their way to the stage, and I watched Ella watch them go. I could only imagine what they had been saying to her. I wondered if she had agreed to meet them upstairs after the show.
Jealousy bubbled within me, mixed with anger with myself for holding back. Maybe Saul was right; maybe I was deliberately punishing myself. The problem was, I didn’t know how to stop.
10
Ella
After Susanna and Liz left, I made my way out to the audience to join the crowd. I didn’t know if I would ever have an opportunity to see the Prince Charmings perform live again, and I intended to take advantage.
I weaved through the crowd until I was close enough to the stage to see the band, my gaze lingering on the members I had met so far: Chris and Lester on piano and drums, of course, but also Howie and Jason. I smiled when Jason broke out his banjo for one of the songs, remembering our conversation about the instrument earlier. And was it just my imagination, or did his eyes seek me out in the audience when he pulled it out?
As my eyes passed over the rhythm guitarist, I was surprised to realize that I had met him already, as well. It was Darren, the hot guy I’d bumped into—literally—in the bakery the day before. I remembered that he’d said he was in a boy band, I just hadn’t expected it to be this boy band. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognized him, even with the big sunglasses.
Grant, the lead singer, launched into the next song, a slow ballad, one of my favorites, and I closed my eyes and swayed to the music, allowing it to wash over me. I loved Grant’s voice, which was sweet and clear but also deliciously sexy.
I lost myself in my dancing. Finally, I was having the adventure I’d set out to experience. My despair from the day before felt far away now; I revelled in this new feeling of freedom that Sexerella offered me. I had been propositioned by not one, but two men tonight. At the same time, no less! Ella of the day before would have fainted dead away from shock. I smiled at the thought.
Speaking of Lester and Chris’s proposition, I hadn’t yet decided if I would take them up on it. I watched them both as they performed, lingering on their rippling muscles. What would it be like, I wondered, to have my first time with one of them? Or both of them, for that matter? A low thrum of desire hummed deep within me as I imagined their hands on my body.
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” I jumped slightly as the unfamiliar voice spoke close to my ear. I turned to find a man smiling slightly at me. “Sorry, did I startle you?” He was a little older than me, maybe late twenties, with wavy blond hair, blue eyes, and a smile that revealed remarkably straight teeth. In a word, he was gorgeous; almost unnaturally so. “Peter,” he introduced himself.