Edge by Susan Mac Nicol

Author:Susan Mac Nicol [Mac Nicol, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: family drama, Gay Fiction, contemporary romance, malemale love, Opposites Attract, british rockstar, ashamed of his situation, a family owned cinema house, a hardened heart, willing to take a chance
Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group
Published: 2022-02-06T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Jory

I must be the luckiest guy alive. Having all these insanely talented people in my band, working towards a common goal, and doing what we love. Who could want more? The way Alice plays guitar: she’s such an uber rock chick. I’m sorry she didn’t finish her nursing degree but I’m not sorry I found her. 28 September 2019

Sweat, the chafed skin between Edge’s arse cheeks, and the sour taste of whisky echoed off the man he was on stage. His guitar strap rubbed his neck, yet, despite the discomfort, Edge was in his element. As he belted out the lyrics to one of his newer songs, his eyes blinded by the strobe lights, he strode around the stage, owning it and wishing he could see Damian’s face as he performed.

The man who was Jory, who loved quiet nights in watching the telly while cuddling up with a warm blanket to a bloke whose company he enjoyed, hoped Damian was out there in the crowd somewhere.

“Edge,” his fans screeched at the top of their voices, and he grinned, striding over to them, wagging his hips and arse in their faces while he played a riff on his guitar.

God, he loved this. Being part of Stone Edge was all he’d ever wanted.

He stomped about a bit, standing with Bernard as he bashed the drums, the sweat glowing on his smile-wreathed face. Then Edge did the bump and grind against Hannah and Alice as they made love to their guitars and screamed out the backing vocals.

It seemed like minutes, but had probably been an hour when the compère

announced there’d be a short break before the main act would be on. Edge and his band members strutted their stuff, performed the expected encore, then bowed out to let The Widowmakers’ roadies set up.

Edge had profound respect for their music: a blend of heavy metal and head-banging vocals. Totally different from Stone Edge’s sound—rock mixed with a soupçon of pop that’d been likened to the group Royal Blood more than once. Edge loved the idea their sound would be compared to such a great band.

Backstage, Jory wiped his face with a damp towel one of the passing stagehands handed to him, and then took a long, thirsty gulp of water from the bottle he’d somehow acquired. He’d expected to find bloody Roger waiting for him, but he didn’t appear to be around.

Thank heavens for small mercies.

“You were epic out there,” a quiet voice murmured behind him, and Jory turned with a gasp of pleasure. Damian stood there, looking elegantly sexy in tight black jeans, a silky shirt that mirrored his green eyes, and a casual jacket with the collar turned up.

“You came,” Jory exclaimed. “What did you think of the show?” He planted a wet kiss on Damian’s cheek, loving the way his cheeks flushed pink. “Did I rock up there or what?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “You were fabulous up there and you know it. I mean, dressed like you are,” he gestured

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