Chapter 1
Astrid
“Darling, you will look fabulous. Come out, please, so I may see.”
Mathilde’s lightly accented voice floated over the bathroom stall. Astrid grumbled. Her friend was overconfident as usual. It was a trait that served Mathilde well as Director of HR but didn’t exactly help Astrid, a certified computer geek.
“This is ridiculous. Why do I have to wear your clothes anyway? I look like a stuffed sausage!”
“Mais non, ma chère, you will look sublime. You are only one size smaller than me,” Mathilde cooed. “Please, come here. I must assess the situation.”
Astrid sighed heavily and opened the door. She stepped out, arms crossed, to meet Mathilde’s keen eye. The Frenchwoman’s perfectly lined lips pursed as she took in Astrid’s appearance.
“Okay, it is not so terrible. But we must do something about this.” Mathilde gestured to the sides of Astrid’s top, where her breasts were spilling out like unruly passengers on a crowded train. “This here. It is not right.”
“The whole thing’s not right,” Astrid muttered, wincing as Mathilde adjusted the top, “Why are you making me do this?”
“I am not making you do anything. You made the bet with Liam. I am just helping,” Mathilde sniffed, handing over another top. “Here, try this one. The blue will match your eyes.”
Astrid grabbed the shimmery fabric with a dramatic eye roll. Flashbacks of her teenage years, being shoved into a dressing room by her mother with a hideous floral outfit, popped up. Except this wasn’t the mall of her childhood, and Mathilde wasn’t her mother. This was Hibashi Co.’s fifth-floor bathroom, and Mathilde was her best friend who was, annoyingly, just trying to help.
And honestly, Mathilde had a point. Astrid had lost the bet with Liam fair and square. She should have known better than to challenge him at an eating contest. He had the appetite of a grizzly bear, and now she was on the hook for a night out.
As she surveyed the pile of clothes on the bathroom counter, Astrid frowned. “Why do you have so many clothes at the office, anyway?”
Mathilde clicked her tongue, waving off the question as if stockpiling outfits at work was totally normal. “Astrid, please. I am a woman.”
Resigned to her fate, Astrid stepped back into the stall and peeled off the ill-fitting top. While Mathilde claimed they were only a size apart, the reality was far from it. Mathilde’s tall, willowy frame allowed her to pull off that effortlessly chic, oversized clothes look, but Astrid’s curvy, petite figure needed a completely different fit. In truth, Mathilde could easily wear two sizes smaller, but she preferred her clothes to drape elegantly rather than cling.
Three outfit changes later, they finally found something with enough stretch to accommodate Astrid’s more… shapely body. Mathilde’s face lit up when Astrid emerged in a tight miniskirt and the blue cutout crop top.
“Ooo la la!” Mathilde exclaimed, “C’est magnifique! Your legs, your chest, this sexy shoulder! Now, I will do your face and hair. You will be a work of art tonight, truly. Men will be drooling.”
Astrid flushed at the onslaught of compliments, her discomfort as tangible as the tightness of the outfit. The fabric clung to her curves, but instead of feeling suffocated, she had to admit, it wasn’t awful. There was a certain softness to it, a way it held her body that almost felt… flattering.
“Please, stop,” she muttered, her cheeks warm. Compliments weren’t exactly her forte.
Mathilde stepped back, admiring her work as she beamed. “Astrid, you are so beautiful. Look in the mirror. You will see.”
Astrid turned to face herself in the mirror, and for a moment, she didn’t recognize the woman staring back. Her jaw dropped. “Wow… I didn’t know I could look like this.”
“Of course you can. You have the nicest skin. And your eyes, ma chère, they are like sapphires.” Mathilde stepped closer, smoothing down Astrid’s long auburn hair. “Gorgeous red waves with a little smokey eye and a natural lip? Une vraie beauté. A true beauty! You will stop hearts tonight.”
For once, Astrid didn’t argue. She stared at herself, eyes wide, before turning to hug Mathilde tightly.
“Thank you. I don’t think I could do this without you.”
“You are welcome, darling, but do not mess the make up please.” Mathilde patted her back, pulling away to gather her belongings. “So, do you know where Liam is taking you tonight?”
Astrid shook her head. “No, he was pretty secretive. Just said I shouldn’t wear heels.”
She glanced down at the chunky black boots Mathilde had insisted she wear.
“Those do not count,” Mathilde said, dismissing the concern with a wave. “I am happy Liam is finally taking you out. You two make such a cute couple.”
“It’s not a date,” Astrid insisted, her voice firm.
Mathilde frowned. “How is it not a date? He is taking you out on a Friday night, and he is very handsome. I have made you—”
“It’s not a date,” Astrid repeated, “I don’t date coworkers.”
“Ah, what a pity you have this rule!” Mathilde sighed dramatically. “Liam is très séduisant. Very seductive. I thought there was something between you two… a certain chemistry.”
“We flirt a little at work, sure. But you know he’s a player. I’m not looking for office drama or casual sex.”
“Well, you should look for something,” Mathilde replied as they left the bathroom together. “It has been, what, six months since you last allowed yourself into a proper social setting?”
Astrid groaned, embarrassed by how on-point Mathilde was. “Since your birthday party, yeah.”
“Ah, yes! So many handsome French men, and you didn’t even kiss one. Truly, a tragedy.”
“I’ve been busy,” Astrid deflected, “You know how this city project is consuming my life.”
That was a lie. She wasn’t busy. Well, not in the way Mathilde assumed. Astrid had another life online as a hacker, and though thrilling, it was not something she could ever share with her friends.
Mathilde tutted. “This is unhealthy, ma chère. You need to live outside the office. Or computer screen.”
Astrid glanced at her phone. “Well, tonight’s a start. Liam just sent the location. We’re going to a place called Chimera?”
Mathilde’s eyebrows shot up. “Chimera? Really? That is… unexpected for Liam.”
Astrid checked the message again. “Yeah, do you know it?”
“Not quite my scene,” she said thoughtfully, “but who knows? You can still make the most of it, ma chère. I guarantee there will be men and you will stand out, in a good way.”
Twenty minutes later, Astrid emerged from the back of her Uber and gazed up at the twisted double-headed lion emblem of Chimera. The building was long and squat, its brick façade stained and tagged with graffiti. Shuttered windows gave it a rundown, almost decrepit look. She scanned the line of rough-looking people gathered out front and instinctively pulled her jacket tighter, as if it could shield her from the unfamiliar scene. One particularly tattooed and pierced individual spat loudly on the pavement, then gave her a lewd grin.
“Charming,” she muttered, pulling out her phone to text Liam.
[Astrid: Hey, I’m here. Where r u?]
[Liam: Be right there!]
[Liam: Wait with Bob.]
[Astrid: Bob?]
[Liam: The bouncer ;)]
Spotting the beefy man at the front of the line, she hesitated before hovering nearby. It didn’t take long for Liam to pop open the door, flashing his signature dimpled grin.
“I didn’t think you were going to make it!” His eyebrows shot up as he took in her appearance. “Damn, girl. You ain’t playin’ tonight. Mathilde is a miracle worker!”
“Shut up.” Astrid blushed, glancing down at her chest, which strained against the top. “It doesn’t fit me as well as her, but I didn’t have a lot of options. So… here I am. Sorry I’m late—”
“Oh, stop. When you show up looking like that, you don’t need an excuse.” Liam grinned and stepped aside, motioning her in. “Come on in! We’re almost done setting up. Some of the guys just cracked a beer, and they’re dying to meet you. They’ll be twice as eager once they see you.”
Astrid ducked inside and followed Liam through the dingy bar, where a handful of staff were bustling around, preparing for the crowd. As he led her into a larger room, her brow furrowed at the sight of a raised dais at the far end, flanked by thick red velvet curtains. The contrast between the rich fabric and the dive bar’s grungy atmosphere struck her as odd.
Her attention shifted to the stage, where several instruments were already set up. A bass drum with a striking skull graphic sat to the side surrounded by amps, and two gorgeous guitars: a jet-black Jackson and a white 7-string Ibanez. Guitars always caught her eye, reminding her of her older brother, Noah, who had dreamed of being a musician. Almost every memory she had of him involved a battered Stratocaster or a Rolling Stone magazine.
“What exactly did I sign up for, Liam? A concert?”
She lingered on the skull graphic, trying to make out the stylized letters in the teeth, until Liam’s voice snapped her back. “I’m sorry, what was that? Hell what?”
“HellRazor. They’re a local melodic death metal band. Trust me, you’re going to love them. They put on a killer show.”
Astrid held up her hands. “Whoa, whoa stop. Death metal? What even is that?”
Liam chuckled, shaking his head like she was adorably clueless. He reached out and lowered her hands. “Melodic death metal is a sub-genre. It’s heavy on harmonic riffs and has some growling vocals.”
Astrid’s mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry, growling?”
“Not all the time,” Liam said with a grin. “Just occasionally. Look, even if the music isn’t your thing, you’ll love the energy. Plus, I see that gleam in your eye when you look at those guitars, Miss Thang. You’ll fit right in.”
Astrid chewed her bottom lip as Liam moved toward the back wall, opening a door and waving her through. Her nose crinkled at the sour smell of stale beer. She hoped it wasn’t something worse.
“What choice do I have?” she muttered. “A bet’s a bet.”
“Indeed!” Liam agreed. “Come on. You’re going to love the crew.”
He led her past stacks of bar supplies into a small seating area. A group of people stood around a coffee table cluttered with beer bottles. They were all chatting easily. Most were dressed in jeans and t-shirts, though a curvy blonde in a strappy leather ensemble caught Astrid’s eye. Tattoos and piercings flashed on every bit of exposed skin.
“Welcome to the backstage area! Or as I call it, the VIP lounge,” Liam said, spreading his arms wide. “I need to help Gregg with the soundcheck, but first I’ll introduce you to Matti.”
“Who’s Matti? Another band member?”
“Yep. The drummer.”
Astrid followed Liam’s gaze and spotted a man sprawled across half the couch. He looked like a Viking, a massive, bearded wall of muscle with a casual top knot and tattoos that crawled up his neck. She felt a surge of self-consciousness in her revealing outfit, standing in the presence of such blatant masculinity.
As she watched, Matti threw his head back and laughed at something. The sound was contagious, and Astrid found herself smiling along. He seemed friendly, despite his intimidating size. Matti stood up as they approached, giving Liam a hearty backslap.
“Hey man, just in time to stop Blake from texting Lara again,” Matti joked.
Liam groaned. “Blake’s a lost cause.” He then gestured to Astrid. “Matti, this is Astrid. The one and only.”
Matti grinned and extended a hand. “Ah, so you’re the famous Astrid. I’m Matthias, but everyone calls me Matti. Liam said you might bail on us, so I’m glad you proved him wrong.”
“Oh? He did, did he?” She shot Liam a mock glare as he tried to hide behind Matti. “And what lies are you spreading about me now?”
Liam raised his hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, babe. Getting you out of the office is practically a miracle.”
Astrid rolled her eyes but couldn’t help agreeing. “How could I miss a night with HellRazor?”
Liam’s eyes lit up mischievously. “So, all I had to do was name my dick HellRazor, and you’d have spent the night with it?”
Astrid laughed. “HellRazor? Please. Maybe try HalfRazor, a bit more fitting.”
The group erupted in laughter, and Liam clutched his chest in mock pain.
Matti clapped her on the shoulder with a grin. “I like you! Feisty. I was going to ask how you put up with him all day, but I see you’re more than capable.”
“Hey, HalfRazor!” a gruff voice called from the door. “Got a minute to help with soundcheck?”
“Sure, Gregg. Anything to escape Sass-trid here,” Liam teased before turning back to her. “Behave while I’m gone, okay?”
She smirked. “Don’t worry, you’re the only one I sharpen my claws for, babe.”
The leather-clad blonde lifted her bottle in a toast. “Somebody get this girl a beer!”
