Page 43 of Hey Girl

“I’ve got a special girl on my mind, and I hope you all don’t mind if I sing her a little something I wrote for her.”

Josh and Matt start strumming on their respective instruments as Jack starts impressively slamming out a beat, and by now, I’ve listened to all their albums enough to know this is something they haven’t played before. Ever.

My heart thumps. Mayzie gives me a little nudge with her elbow, not taking her eyes off her man behind the drum kit, unabashedly biting down on her bottom lip.

As if he couldn’t surprise me enough, Chris pulls a shiny device out of his back pocket and when he brings it to hismouth I am downright stunned at how he nails an impressive harmonica riff, and I feel a warm tingling in my lady bits.

As the music segues towards the first verse, he pulls the instrument away and grips the mic to sing the first words, and sweet lord, his voice. It’s not low like Jack’s but it has a raspy quality to it that just breathes sex and the way he tosses those golden strands of hair out of his eyes as he cocks his head to look towards me sends my heart into a tailspin.

Hey girl,

I see you there,

Hiding behind your hair

You’ve got a pretty face,

Though you think you’re out of place

I want to show you,

This world should know you.

His blue eyes dazzle as they hold onto mine, refusing to let go. My mind has a hard time deciding whether to get lost in them or the lyrics.

He wrote this. I can’t believe it.

The place may be packed full of devoted yet nameless fans, but the look in his eyes, as he refuses to turn his face back to them, tells me he’s singing only to me.

Come with me and just let go

Of all those fears that keep you so low

We’ll help each other fly

Take this thing to the skies

I’ll take us up fast

You bring us down slow

I feel a warm flash burst across my skin and I only just now realize that I’m dancing a little.

My man.

I can’t believe I’m here.

As the song starts reaching its last chorus, Chris turns to me with a look on his face that takes me a moment to decode. For a flash, I think he looks sad but then I immediately realize that’s not it. He looks thoughtful, his eyes casting between the floor and my eyes. He looks just a bit reticent and in comparison to his baseline, perma-grin, it worried me for half a second. But now, I realize what he needs.

“I love it,” I mouth to him and the twinkle in his eye is enough to incinerate the thong Enrique insisted I wear with these jeans. Chris returns his attention to the crowd, while I look around for someone to slap me and laugh in my face that obviously I’m going to wake up in the next few seconds, twisted up in my pink and green floral comforter with two or three items from my vibrator collection discarded nearby and a disgusted look on the face of Mr. BooBoo, the stuffed rabbit that brought me comfort as a kid.

Now that’s just sick.

The song comes to a gentle end and Chris still grips the mic, looking over to me with a smug smile that correlates way more with his personality. I giddily bounce up and down in place, not knowing at all what to say but the best part is how little he cares. He simply places his fingertips to his lips and throws me a kiss before slapping hands with Jack and returning to his place behind his kit to the soundtrack of apeshit, roaring fans.

13

REBECCA