The arena pulsed with raw energy, thousands of fans screaming as Jax Ryder and his band tore through their final encore. Ava stood in the VIP section, heart hammering against her ribs. She had won the backstage meet-and-greet through a radio contest, pure luck after years of obsessing over Jax’s gravelly voice and magnetic stage presence. At twenty-eight, she knew it was a fantasy, but tonight felt electric.
Jax commanded the stage like a god, tall, lean-muscled, black hair, tattoos snaking down his arms. His ripped black tank clung to his chest, and those tight leather pants left nothing to the imagination. When he growled the last lyrics of their hit song, the crowd erupted. His eyes scanned the front rows and locked on her for a split second. Ava’s breath caught.
After the lights came
