Chapter 47: Just think about him
He caught her eye, glanced at Amber, then back at Jane, then raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly. “I thought she was singing half those lyrics at you.”
Jane didn’t know what to say. She could feel her forehead creasing. She turned away.
Amber nodded towards him. “Did you introduce yourself?”
“We chatted,” she said.
Amber’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow.”
Jane didn’t think their interaction had deserved a “I didn’t catch his name, though. What is it?”
Amber made a half scoff, half-choking sound. “Nick. Nick Cave.”
“Oh, I’ll never remember that,” Jane whispered. “Can you remind me if we see him again at cocktails?”
Amber’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “I’m happy to, if you’re still struggling after he goes up to get his lifetime achievement award in a minute.”
Jane glanced over at her neighbour.
He was suppressing a smile too.
Her face went warm.
He leaned sideways towards her and whispered. “Don’t worry. I travel the world chasing anonymity. You’ve given me an unexpected gift tonight.” He bowed his head briefly at her. “Now smile for the telly cameras when they point our way.”
The hosts were talking again, and images of the dark-haired man glowering at the camera or screaming into microphones faded in and out on a big screen over the stage.
“Can we swap seats?” Jane asked Amber.
“Yep, sure,” Amber whispered.
As Amber took her seat next to Nick Cave, Jane heard him mumble something.
“No, my friend’s just a little camera shy.”
Jane’s skin burned. She was messing everything up. Amber was having a triumphant night, but she had to make lame excuses for Jane. Maybe I’m foolish to think I can ever belong here.
Amber leant against Jane and gave her arm a quick squeeze. Jane at once felt worse and better. Amber was so understanding, and Jane couldn’t budge one centimetre on her resolution to protect her reputation. She clenched her fist. She couldn’t change who she was and what she cared about. Maybe she should go before she did any more damage.
Everyone clapped, and the dark-haired man got up and went onto the stage.
Amber slid her fingers between Jane’s and clasped her hand. “He was so chuffed you’d never heard of him once in your life,” she said. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled again. “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Jane. Thank you.”
Jane squeezed her hand. The burning shame lessened. The thought of leaving had been physically painful, an instant hard ache in her chest. Jane made a new resolution: to do her best for this incredible woman. Tenderness welled up in her chest, and the throat-tightening returned.
Amber chuckled at something Nick Cave said in his speech.
Jane watched her lips curve and the fine lines around her eyes crease. She wanted to press soft kisses on that face, to whisper gentle things. Her chest was so full, she thought she might explode.
The crowd stood and clapped as Nick was handed a big statuette.
The hosts announced another short break.
Amber turned to her suddenly and quirked an eyebrow. She put her mouth to Jane’s ear. “I’m not wearing any underwear,” she whispered. “Do you want to get out of here?”
Amber’s warm breath sent heat from Jane’s ear all the way down her body. Amber’s body brushed against Jane’s—just a hint of pressure at her hip.
Her heart started to pound. “Yes, totally, yes. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.” It was something Sara always said. Jane had never said anything like it before.
Amber threw her head back and laughed, her eyes glinting with mischief and joy. She grabbed Jane’s hand, and they made their apologetic but hurried way back down along their row.
Amber thanked the Australian music gods that the APRA awards were always held in the same place. She knew the Sydney Town Hall well. Jane’s hand was warm in hers. She held on tight, her burning need to hold onto Jane being channelled into this one grip. At least until they were behind closed doors.
She opened her dressing room door and pulled Jane inside. With a flourish, she pressed against Jane and reached to lock the door behind her.
Jane’s face was flushed. Her skin was so pale that the redness showed in broad streaks down her cheeks when she was nervous. Or turned on.
Amber loved bringing her heat to the surface. She pushed Jane so that her back was against the wall next to the door.
Jane’s eyes widened. “Wait, you mean here? Do it here?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Amber whispered back. “What’s the point of performing and having a swanky dressing room if you don’t fuck in it?”
Jane blinked. Her lips parted.
Pressure pooled between Amber’s legs. Jane’s obvious struggle between good sense and physical desire was turning her on even more.
Jane was sexy as hell in a suit, but in that moment, Amber wanted to rip it off her and be skin to skin, able to satiate this burning desire.
Jane looked around the room, the streaks of pink extending down her neck. “But what if there are cameras?”
“In a woman’s dressing room? That would be highly illegal.”
The breath caught in Jane’s throat.
Amber took pity on her. “Look, we don’t have to. We can wait until we get back to the flat.”
Jane exhaled with a faint groan. “No, I want you now.” She pressed her mouth to Amber’s neck and pulled her tightly against her body. She put her face close to Amber’s.
Amber was about to kiss her mouth, but Jane pressed her fingers to Amber’s lips. “Wait,” she said.