The Mighty Storm (Raura Revised)

Chapter 65

Chapter 65

I'm wearing the pink dress and ridiculously pretty blue heels that Simone forced me to buy earlier, and I'm already regretting the shoes, my feet are bloody killing me. Why don't I ever learn that pretty does not equal comfy.

I prop my butt up against the wall and bend over, slipping my foot out of the shoe, I rub my sore instep with my hand.

When I glance up I see a pair of black Converses approaching me.

Eyes up to the black jeans, reaching the sleeveless, vintage '94 Nine Inch Nails 'Downwards Spiral' T-shirt, with a guitar strapped pressed tight across it, the instantly recognisable tattoos on full show, to finally meet with Ross' face.

He looks amazing. Beautiful. Just like the rock star he is. And was always meant to be.

I slip my foot back into my shoe. Nerves instantly encompass me, encapsulating me.

"You should learn to wear sensible shoes." He nods down at my feet.

"I should."

"Then again, if you did, I'd have never have got to carry you into the hotel that night." His tone is low, intimate, and his eyes meet mine intensely.

Nerve endings fire sparks out into my body, causing an intense rush of want and need for him.

Looking down, I break our stare.

"So ... uh ... Denny said you're leaving straight after the show." He takes another step closer to me.

We're only a foot apart now. I want to reach out and touch him more than anything. But I can't.

"Yes." I tuck my hair behind my ear. "Sorry I can't make the after show party. I have to get back home – work you know – and my flights booked so..."

"Sure, yeah, of course, I understand." He pushes his hand through this hair.

I meet his eyes, and I can see the blatant disharmony in them.

"So will I see you after the show? Before you leave," he asks.

"Yes."

That's a lie. I won't be here when he comes off stage. I'm going to leave during the encore. Everyone's at their highest at that point, so I'll be able to slip away without being noticed.

I said goodbye to Ross once. Twice is just too much.

"Okay, so I'll see you after the show then," he smiles, his mood seemingly picking up.

"Yeah ... looks like you're up." I nod in the direction of the roadie who is waiting to hook his guitar up.

Ross gives me a rueful smile. It almost breaks me on the spot.

Reluctantly, he turns to go.

"Ross?"

Stopping, he turns back, slipping his guitar around to the front.

"Have a great show," I smile.

"I will ... and Laur." He takes a step forward, back to me. "You look beautiful in those shoes ... and that dress, but then you look beautiful in anything."

Then he's gone, readying himself to perform to his adoring New York fans, unknowingly taking my heart with him.

...

Ross is performing better than his last few shows, maybe that's because I'm here, or maybe it's because New York was his home for a time. I'm not sure. But because he's better, the guys are better and the band as a whole is on fire, and the crowd sure are feeling it.