Chapter 124 Chapter 124 The Concert
I push my hair over my shoulder as we stand in line to get inside the Poison Apple. It’s a gritty, hip club where punk bands play, the kind of place that smells like sweat, beer, and bad decisions. Just my luck, Mia loves Resin—same as Dragon. His favorite band. Which means he will be here tonight. Of course he will.
I glance down at myself and immediately regret my outfit. All black. Tight tank top, torn-up skinny jeans, my spiky Louboutins digging into the pavement. I look like I belong to his world tonight, and I hate that. Gemma got us a VIP booth on the second floor, and Mia has the hookup for the front of the floor—her brother Manuel is working security.
We get through the metal detectors without a hitch. The heavy bass from inside vibrates through the walls, already rattling in my chest. I’m glad I have all my girls with me—I needed this. We spent the whole day getting pampered—massages, nails, wax. Trying to feel like ourselves again.
And I’m really fucking glad I didn’t sleep with Ivan, Alek, and Gemma.
They were so into it. We killed a whole bottle of rakia, and I still held my ground. I’m not ready. Not for that, not for anyone. And I sure as hell don’t want Ivan thinking I’ll just give in to him, forgive him, or fall back into whatever twisted thing we had. Not with that ridiculously handsome, arrogant face of his.
The server brings us drinks just as the first band takes the stage. They scream more than sing, so I down mine fast. Three songs later, Resin starts setting up.
Mia grabs all of us, practically vibrating. We head down the stairs.
“Ladies!” Manuel calls, pulling back the gate.
He stands in the narrow space between the stage and the barrier, letting us slip through. Gemma, me, Tish, Erika, Mia, Tiana, Yesenia—we pile in. Some people complain, but Manuel shuts them down instantly.
The lead singer taps the mic, says a quick hello. Mia screams like she’s dying. The crowd surges behind us, loud and electric. I already know I’m waking up with a headache tomorrow.
The band starts playing—softer than I expected, but still raw. Emotional. Breakup songs.
Perfect.
Gemma and Tish hug me from both sides. I lean against the barrier, trying to let the music carry me. The bass hums through my body, the air thick and hot, the floor sticky under my heels.
I glance up at the lead singer. He’s all over the stage, jumping, feeding off the crowd.
Then he looks at us.
No—he looks at me.
He looks away, then back again. Like he can’t help it.
Mia shoves me hard. “James is looking right at you!”
“Who?”
“The lead singer!”
Our eyes lock.
He smiles.
Oh, fuck. I can already see where this is going.
He jumps off the stage and moves into the narrow space in front of us, still singing. Slowly, deliberately, he makes his way over until he’s right in front of me. His energy is wild, controlled chaos.
With one hand still holding the mic, he reaches into his pocket with the other and pulls out his phone. He hands it to me without missing a beat.
Mia is losing her mind beside me.
I grin and type in my number.
“Elle – The one night stand, Vegas Show.”
I hand it back.
He glances at the screen and laughs mid-lyric, shaking his head. Then he jumps back on stage and finishes the set.
We head upstairs to our VIP booth, ordering more drinks between bands. I’m mid-sip when I nearly choke.
James is coming straight for us.
He hops down, moves through the crowd, and takes the stairs two at a time. Gemma grins like she’s been waiting for this.
He slides up next to me, leaning casually on the rail.
“James,” he says, offering his hand. “Fan?”
“My ex-fiancé is,” I reply honestly. “Not really my kind of music.” I take a sip of my drink, watching him. “Did you like my name in your phone?”
He laughs. “Maybe. Damn… don’t I look like a rebound guy?”
“You look like a one-night stand,” I shoot back, smiling. “Let me introduce you to my friends.”
Mia is practically glowing. The rest of the girls smile politely, sizing him up.
The next band starts setting up, and their lead singer calls out, “James! Quit flirting with fans and come do this duet, asshole.”
The crowd erupts. A spotlight swings toward us.
I can’t help but grin. James looks slightly embarrassed but amused.
“Wait for me after the show,” he says quickly.
Before I can react, his lips are on mine.
I don’t hesitate—I kiss him back, hard. He deepens it, his hands firm on my waist, grounding me. Heat floods through me, sharp and sudden. Something I haven’t felt in months.
The crowd roars around us.
He pulls back, slightly breathless, a flush creeping up his face.
I really take him in now—tattoos covering his arms, tight jeans, another worn band tee. His hair is messy in a way that works, but it’s his eyes that catch me—hazel, with green, gold, and brown flickering under the lights.
“Don’t look,” Gemma yells over the crowd, “but Dragon and his friends are up there, staring.”
I look anyway. I have to.
Across the second floor, leaning against the rail, is Dragon.
Staring at me like I just pissed in his cereal.
His whole crew next to him.
I don’t even think. I grab James again and kiss him harder. By the time we pull apart, we’re both out of breath.
“I love a girl who enjoys revenge,” he says, smirking.
“You just wait until after the show,” I whisper, winking.
The other singer calls him back down, again.
My girls close in around me, cheering, laughing. We take more shots, the alcohol hitting fast.
I glance back up at Dragon.
His eyes are red. Burning.
“Welcome to the sad boy club,” I mutter, raising my glass toward him.