Page 61 of Just What She Needed

While Rhys choked with laughter beside her, Rhett decided to speak up. She raised her hand and stepped forward.

"Here the hell is Rhett."

Drew's shoulder length dark blond hair swung around his neck as he turned to look at her, one side of his mouth tipped up in a smile. He handed over two food containers. "Here you go, Hellcat. By the way, I'm the fuck is Drew."

"Hey, the fuck is Drew." Rhett took her food and stood back as Rhys elbowed his way in between Drew and Parker. After a moment he emerged with several more take-out boxes and indicated with a tilt of his head that she should follow him.

Four or five more round tables dotted that side of the room, and Rhys headed for the one furthest away from Food Central. After using his foot to shove all but two chairs aside, he and Rhett opened all the boxes and finally sat down to eat.

While Rhys used his chopsticks with proficiency, Rhett tore the cellophane from a plastic fork before digging in to her Lo Mein.

"How was your flight?" Rhys asked around a mouthful of what appeared to be snow peas.

"I guess it was okay." Her cheeks warmed at his quizzical look. "It's the first time I've ever flown, so I don't know if it was good or not. We didn't crash or anything, so I'm guessing that counts as okay."

Rhys swallowed his mouthful and flicked a strand of hair from her cheek. "I didn't know you'd never been on a plane."

Ashamed to admit to him just how much of an ignorant hick she really was, Rhett kept her gaze pinned to her noodles. "Rhys, I've never been out of Texas before. Wait, strike that. One time I went with Todd and his cousin Cory to Texarkana to pick up a truck Cory bought, and Todd got lost and we ended up on the Arkansas side of the city. So, I was out of Texas for about ten minutes 'til Todd got us turned around and back over the state line."

Rhys put a finger under her chin and turned her face toward his. "Have I ever told you how perfect you are?"

Laughing in shock, Rhett gestured toward his food. "Did they put hallucinogens in those snow peas?"

"No," he said with a patient smile. "You are perfect. For me."

"Oh." There was no stopping the misty smile his words brought about. "I can live with that."

"I'd like to grab you and kiss you senseless right now."

"I could definitely live with that." She cast a glance over his shoulder, but he shook his head.

"Not here."

A disappointed little sigh lifted then lowered her shoulders. "Well, if there's not going to be any kissing, you might as well eat." She gave him a smile of anticipation. Maybe she couldn't get naked with him anytime soon, but she would get to see him onstage for the first time in a matter of hours. "You have to work tonight."

23

I definitely got to a point where I realize how unusual it is to be able to play large, sold-out shows 30 years into a rock and roll career. I don't take it for granted.—Adam Clayton

––––––––

It was standing room only, and a thrill of anticipation ran through the crowd, the buzz of thousands of voices a little louder than normal, nervous twitches and fidgeting more pronounced. Those who got in line early that afternoon stood in front of the stage, casting occasional glances at the road crew who were swarming over the shadowed structure in a businesslike fashion. Here and there inflated beach balls which had been smuggled in past security bounced over the heads of the capacity crowd, like agitated bees flitting from bloom to bloom. Despite the ban on smoking in the arena, smoke was already thick around the high ceiling, and every now and then a fleeting whiff of marijuana wafted through, its harsh, almost sweet fragrance tickling the noses of those it passed. The fans who elected not to buy General Admission tickets roamed the bleacher sections, in no particular hurry to claim their seats. They were there to rock and roll, and once Illicit took the stage no one would be sitting down anyway. For now, they were content to wander from group to group, listening to the recorded music that poured from the towering stacks of amps on the stage, and avoiding the security detail hired to police the concert.

Before they left the backstage area, Sara warned Rhett they'd be seated in the audience and not in the special VIP area that was roped off to the side of the stage.

"I hate sitting there," Sara said with a twist of her mouth. "Besides family and a few friends, it's always full of celebrities and models and people all trying to act jaded and above it all. The energy level there is below zero, and besides, you can't see shit. We're going to go out with the people who really want to see Illicit and not just be seen seeing Illicit, if you know what I mean."

Now seated in the first row of Section 21 to the left of the stage, Rhett attempted to emulate Sara's behavior but wasn't having much luck. The redhead was slumped in her seat with her feet propped on the rail in front of her, and she appeared to be fast asleep. There was no way Rhett was going to close her eyes and miss anything, but she did her best to sit still and not fidget.

She rubbed her fingers over the soft cotton of her shirt, under which rested her laminated pass. Before entering the main arena after Unsweet Tart, the opening band, finished its set, Sara pulled her to a stop and told her to tuck the pass out of sight.

"Don't let anyone out there know you have it, or that you're associated with the band in any way, shape or form," Sara warned. "Otherwise, you'll be surrounded in no time by people claiming to be your best friend and trying to get backstage, or someone'll jerk that thing off your neck and be gone with it before you can move."

Rhett was sure that anyone attempting to swipe her pass would be left with a bloody stump where their arm used to be, but she tucked it under her shirt anyway.

Next to her, Sara shifted in her seat and sighed.

"Are you really asleep?" Rhett asked.