Trace wanders over as Da Bomb finishes up their set. The crowd is wild, charged with an energy that seeps into Adam, making his fingers tingle and his heart race. He lives for this moment, this rush. It all comes down to this.
Steff steps out on stage amid the catcalls and whistles. It’s her short skirt, Adam tells himself, not Frankie’s act. The crowd doesn’t know what’s about to hit them. As Frankie brushes by him backstage, he bumps into Adam and laughs. “I’d hate to have to follow that,” he says, cocky.
Adam wants to ram his fist right between those wide, staring eyes. He can’t stand this ass. “You follow me outside,” Adam snarls. “I’ll give you something to hate.”
Trace pushes between them, a disarming smile sliding into place. Nice act.” He shoves Adam back into Mike, who catch
