Page 56 of Wild Thing
“What time should we go?” Dylan asked, snapping me out of my explicit daydream.
Fifteen
DYLAN
Town Hall was packed. Brax mentioned it was a sold out show.
Town Hall was a historic old theater that had been converted into an epic concert hall. Bars framed both sides of the venue, and a second floor mezzanine wrapped around the entire perimeter.
“Where do you want to stand?” Brax semi-yelled in my ear as we walked inside.
“Let’s go to the balcony," I grabbed his hand and weaved us through the crowd and up the stairs to the second floor. Squeezing into a spot to the right of the stage, I held onto the railing, overlooking the rowdy crowd below.
I loved concerts but my mosh pit days were over.
“I’ll go and get us a couple of drinks.”
Brax disappeared among the sea of black tee-shirts and mohawks.
I leaned against the railing, while the support band played their last song to the adoring, cheering crowd. I was into it, but my mind was replaying what Brax said earlier.
He was proud of me.
I tried to remember the last time Zack said he was proud of me. I couldn’t remember. Come to think of it, I couldn't remember a single time Zack was even interested in any project I was working on.
It wasn’t that hard was it? To be interested in your partner's life?
But Brax?
He saw me. He always had.
And I saw him.
We were two people, self-made in a world of people who were family-made. You know the types; those who inherited the family business without having to lift a goddamn finger. In Hollywood, they're referred to as nepo babies. Here? We aren't so nice when it comes to nicknames. We call them the "chosen cunts".
I turned my head and saw Brax ducking in and out of the crowd, carrying two drinks.
God, he looked fucking hot.
Dressed in a white t-shirt, black ripped jeans, and Vans, he moved like an apex predator—and I was his willing prey. His tattooed, muscular frame sliced through the crowd as he handed me a vodka.
I turned back to the chaos below, with Brax behind me. He braced both arms on the railing either side of me, a protective barrier against the crowd.
The atmosphere crackled as the main band hit the stage, kicking off with flashing lights and pyrotechnics. Euphoric, we lost ourselves in the music.
As the show raged on, Brax pressed harder against me, his crotch firm against my ass. My pulse raced as I pushed back into him.
Did I have it in me to cheat on Zack? Was I going to become that person?
I’d already admitted to myself that I was unhappy. Running into Brax had only solidified what I already knew: my relationship with Zack was over.
But, it's not… yet.
Brax slid in behind me tighter, adjusting his stance while sliding a hand around my waist. The skin on my stomach was slightly exposed due to my short fitting tee.
I made no attempt to remove his hand.
He whispered in my ear. “Is this okay?”
