by Heather Long
I still wasn’t ready when Ian and I had to do our soundcheck, and my voice cracked on the first lyric. Until Ian turned my chin up so I was staring up at him, and then KC was right about one thing—everything else fell away.
Despite the soundcheck, we weren’t performing that night. KC tried to talk me into it, and I may or may not have ended up in the bathroom throwing up. They let me off the hook and guilt assailed me at the freakout. Still, she said, I was doing the last show if she had to drag me out there and just serenade me.
Rachel appeared at our hotel the next day, and we went out for a day of pampering, hair, nails, and the works. That night, Jake and Coop spent hours making sure I didn’t think about anything but them.
The next morning, Ian and I were alone in our hotel suite while the guys went to do some shopping. I spent hours in ropes, teased and edged until I thought I would die, and when Ian finally let me come, he only did it after I’d managed to hum a few bars of the song. I was boneless all afternoon, and he soaked me in a hot bath before we got ready to head for the venue.
Even with the noise of the crowd seeming to make the floor vibrate and the energy surging backstage with everyone hurrying, I was loose and relaxed. Anytime my nerves started, all I had to do was look at Ian, and my body seemed to understand that relaxing was the only choice.
I still wasn’t ready when they announced this was their final show and waxed nostalgic. I swore there were hints of tears in my eyes as I listened to them talk about what being Torched meant to them.
Those tears were still there when they introduced us onto the stage, and then we were out there, under the lights, and my heart fisted in my chest.
I could do this.
We could do this.
Over the crowd screaming, I still caught Rachel’s “Yes, bitch!” from the wings, along with the whistles from Coop and Jake. Archie’s gaze warmed my back almost as much as the lights in front of us. When the first chord was struck, I glanced from KC’s grinning face to Ian’s nod.
Yeah, we could do this.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Make Your Own Kind of Music
Ian
Frankie had been fighting nerves about the stage since the first day we came to hang out with the girls for the soundcheck. The fact she’d thrown up was our first clue. When it came to protecting others, our girl was fearless. But her own nerves? Those were harder to pin down.
All the sex in the world wouldn’t chase them away, but the ropes and the knots? They melted the tension out of her frame. The denied orgasms refocused her. Then the orgasms loosened her muscles. Still, the tension was present when we stood off to the side of the stage.
They wanted to bring us out at the end of the show. Go out with a bang, KC said, and break all the concert rules. Because this was the last concert on their contracts. Personally, I agreed with Frankie—KC, Aubrey, and Yvette needed a few weeks of doing nothing as soon as this was done. I couldn’t blame Frankie for being worried about how much weight she’d lost. The girl was practically skin and bones.
I had my guitar strap on, and I was ready for this. We’d let the girls offer suggestions on what to wear, but I’d settled for the muscle shirt with the Torched logo on the front in teal and jeans. Frankie had teased me that I looked a little like Bruce Springsteen.
No complaints here.
She’d gone with ripped jeans, a crop top, and a bright red baseball cap. The latter was from Archie. Red was her lucky color and his. The crop top bared her navel, which she’d informed us she wanted to pierce. I wasn’t the only one who’d gotten interested in the idea.
But that was for later. When we were back in the States.
So much was for later—the new place in the city, college, recording music, writing more music, building our new lives. Warmth settled in my chest. So much of that included unknowns, but I was ready for it. We had found a way to balance all of this. My need to take care of her and Archie’s desire to fix everything too. Jake’s and Coop’s needs to share her and protect her also added to the mix.
There were so many little things tying us together, but our competing desires also let us find common ground. Archie wanted to know more about the lifestyle, so did Jake. Coop was more than willing to learn alongside Frankie, but with her, and she wanted it all.
The girls began to talk about what Torched meant to them, from the beginning to this final tour before they took time off. They were closer than blood, and sometimes they wanted to draw each other’s. There was laughter rippling across the crowd. But they wouldn’t change any of their experiences, including meeting this duo and their family on one of their tour stops, and it was their pleasure to introduce us for the first time.
Frankie’s eyes widened. Fear and apprehension flashed through her tears. But when her gaze locked on mine and I evened my breathing, she took in a deep breath and then let it out.
If I was grateful for no other part of how far we’d come and how much she trusted me, this would have sealed it. The fear abated, the apprehension relaxed, but the tears, they were apparently not going anywhere.
I could live with that. The guys began to whistle, and Rachel yelled as the floodlights sought us out, and I caught Frankie’s hand in mine and walked her out.
Holy shit, the wall of sound from the crowd crashed into me, along with the heat from the lights and the smell of sweat. But beyond all of that was the energy buzzing over my skin. Frankie’s smile grew wider as KC welcomed us out with hugs.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my rare pleasure to say I knew them when, and we get to pass the torch on to two of the most talented and genuine people I’ve ever gotten to know.” The last bit she said as she cast a look at Frankie. “And to the girl who writes the best emails and is living her best life—you inspire me. Now,” KC continued with a huge grin as she faced the crowd, “I hope they inspire you. Everyone, Bound Hearts is here to stay, and remember—you heard them with us first.”
Honestly, hearing the name we’d picked out called for the first time seemed to make it tangible. Beyond that, the smile that exploded across Frankie’s face echoed my own. Hell yes, we were here to stay. If this was our only live performance ever, we were going to make it count.
The crowd surged with cheers, shouts, and applause, just as the band kicked off the first chord as I swung my guitar around. One of the grips ran over and attached something to the mouth of it to let me join them, even though I preferred my acoustic to the electric, and Frankie accepted KC’s outstretched hand to dance with her as we played through the first several bars of “Reckless.”
Thank fuck this was actually one of their songs I’d practiced and recorded for Frankie a few months earlier, so the notes were familiar. Even if my focus scattered some, divided between keeping track of Frankie and where the band was, I followed their lead guitarist with pleasure. The man could play.
So could the girls. Yvette had her own guitar out, and so did Aubrey. They were digging deep for every note, heads bobbing in time to the rhythm set by the drummer. Fuck my heart when we reached the first refrain and then returned to the top of the song, because Frankie opened it by belting out the first lyrics.
The strength her voice carried, but beyond that was the joy in her eyes when KC let out a scream over the first lines.
“Yes!” she shouted. “Let’s do that again, we want to hear more from them, don’t we?”
The surge of voices rising together seemed to rush over the stage, and we answered it by taking the song right back to the top. KC glanced over at me and jerked her head forward to join them, so I moved up.
When we kicked off the first verse this time, I fell in with all four of them.
I think I had a new favorite song.
I definitely had the best girl.
Coop
Honestly, even after listening to Frankie and Ian perform all those times and sing together, nothing could have prepared me for what it would be like to see them hit the stage, a real stage, in front of an aud
ience of thousands. Frankie’s terror morphed into something akin to joy, and I had both fingers at my lips to let loose with whistles for them.
Yeah, we weren’t supposed to cheer from the sidelines. Fuck. That. Jake was right there with me, and Rachel about blew one of my eardrums out with her scream, but I didn’t even mind giving her a hug when she clutched onto me abruptly as they segued from “Reckless” to “Pure Gold.”
I glanced down and bit back a smile. There were tears sliding down Rachel’s face, and I tightened my arm around her, keeping her tucked against my side. She was half hiding her face as she swiped at the tears.
I wouldn’t comment. This was our girl out there, looking and sounding fucking amazing, with one of my best friends and a band that once seemed kind of just wild to admit we knew and now I kind of wanted to look after ’cause they were so exhausted.
Next to me, Jake had his phone up, and so did Archie. I kind of wished we could get footage from the front. Archie had even debated bringing in a drone, but they were filming this concert—all the ones in London apparently—as part of a farewell package to air in a few months.
We’d at least get to see it again, but I’d bet money Archie was already plotting how to get his hands on the footage. This was one of those moments we would never forget.
Instead of only a couple of songs, Frankie and Bubba—Bound Hearts, I liked it—stayed out with them for a full set of six songs leading up to their last. When they finally walked off, sweat slicked Frankie’s face and her hair was damp. Bubba’s shirt was damn near see-through, but they looked so fucking dazed and happy.
Jake scooped Frankie right into a hug, even when she complained about being all sweaty. Yeah, like that would keep our hands off her. The tears on Rachel’s face were gone by the time Frankie turned to her, and I got out of the way for the girls to hug, even as Archie clapped a hand on Bubba’s shoulder.
They were both panting, but the joy rolling off them was contagious. I passed a water bottle to Bubba as Archie pushed one into Frankie’s hands. The crew had offered us some for them, but we’d brought our own. No offense to anyone, but Frankie wasn’t taking a drink from anyone.
With Jake rubbing her back slowly, she gulped down half the bottle, then lowered it with a wild grin on her face. “Did you like it?”
“No,” Rachel deadpanned. “It was horrible. Now half the world is in love with you, I’ll never get my shot.”
The perfect delivery shut all of us up, and then Archie dragged Rachel into a hug that had her squealing, even if it didn’t carry over the music booming from the stage. He gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
“Don’t worry, they don’t have a shot either,” he informed her, and Frankie collapsed into Jake with a hand over her face as she laughed. Rachel slugged Archie in the arm as he smirked and then flipped him off.
Still, we shut up because out on the stage, the girls were winding it down with one last song. The stage darkened, the music slowed, and the crowd even seemed to hush. I tangled my fingers with Frankie’s as she leaned into Jake, Bubba bracketed us, and Archie tucked Rachel between he and Jake too.
One by one in perfect acapella, KC, Yvette, and Aubrey sang their very first hit without any backup whatsoever. It took what had been a rock pop song that Frankie had danced around her bedroom to more times than I could count and turned it into a haunting, if brilliant goodbye.
The humming next to me pulled my gaze, and I glanced down as Frankie mouthed the words alongside them. Her eyes were glittering, even in the half-light cast by the three spotlights that drew together as the three members of Torched closed the distance between them, until it was just the three of them in a single spotlight.
And on the final note, the stage went dark and the girls were striding off toward us. We fell back as they grabbed water bottles, and beyond, the crowd began to scream and cheer.
There wasn’t a dry eye among us, though Rachel seemed to hide hers better. Frankie hugged the girls and they grinned at her, but there were streaks of mascara from their own tears.
Handlers moved around them dabbing at their faces, and then the stage manager was there, his hand over the mic on his headset.
“Encores?”
“No,” Yvette said. “That was our goodbye.”
The last she offered up but still glanced at KC and Aubrey. “Definitely,” Aubrey agreed, and KC let out a shaky breath.
“Hell yeah. Let’s get drunk.”
She grabbed Frankie’s hand. “And all of you are invited.” It was only the fact that KC was a tiny thing she didn’t haul Frankie away from us, but no way we would say no. Not if they wanted to go, and I was pretty sure it was more about needing a friend than needing people to party with.
A fact made reality when KC and the girls didn’t bother to change before they led us right out the back to a waiting car. We were whisked away to their hotel, which also happened to be ours.
That worked.
Archie
At the hotel, we went in the back and used the manager’s access to the private elevator leading to the penthouse suites. The Torched girls had gotten the one across the hall from ours. Since there was only two on the floor, it meant we didn’t have to worry about anyone or anything interrupting.
“Everyone go shower,” I told the girls and Bubba. “I’ll get food and drinks up here. Any requests?”
“Everything,” Yvette said. “I want everything on the menu. I’m starving.”
“Ice cream,” Aubrey said.
“Burgers,” KC decided. “The biggest burger they have.”
Frankie just grinned at me. Yes, I knew exactly what my babe needed. She kissed me as the Torched girls streamed across the hall to their room. The saltiness of her kiss made me smile.
“I loved watching you tonight,” I murmured against her lips, and her eyes lit up. “Loved listening to you too. Did you have fun, babe?”
“I had an amazing time. It was… Archie, it was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done.”
“Nah,” I told her. “You’ve done way scarier. Trust me.” At her raised eyebrows, I motioned to the room. “You took on all of us.”
Her snort just made my grin widen.
“Go shower.”
“Yeah,” Jake said, scooping her up. “Come shower. I’ll wash your back.”
“Hey!” Coop protested, but Jake laughed.
“You snooze, you lose.”
“Ugh,” Rachel grunted from the sofa where she’d fallen down and had her phone out. The sheer volume of disgust in her comment made me laugh. “You guys are disgusting.”
“Don’t hate,” I said as I picked up the room phone to place the order. “I’m sure you want her to be happy.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She didn’t glance up from her phone as she scrolled through images that from this angle looked like concert pics. “Yes!” She exclaimed, then held the phone up for me to see. It was a perfect shot of Frankie, Bubba, and KC at the microphone.
Hell yes.
“Grab that and send it to me?”
“Already done, Rich Boy. I want the higher res version when you’re finished.”
We shared a nod and then room service answered, and I turned away to get everything we wanted sent up here, including ice cream, burgers, beer, wine, and champagne.
Granted, I probably shouldn’t endorse legal drinking for the rock stars, but they already had enough handlers. Pretty sure they didn’t need me to add to it.
Bubba had gone off to shower, and Coop joined Rachel on the sofa as they continued to scan social media posts. The phone in my pocket kept vibrating like mad, and I’d just pulled it out to see who was blowing my phone up when Bubba walked out, hair damp and dressed in fresh clothes with his own phone in hand.
“Did you see these?”
I glanced over at him. “Was just looking?”
“Problem?” Coop asked, and I shook my head, because I wasn’t sure yet. The series of messages on my phone included a half-dozen missed calls from Witt
aker, then a text that said to call him.
Bubba’s phone had three missed calls from him and two from the entertainment attorney we’d hired.
“I have a suspicion that your debut got noticed,” I commented. A low scream carried from the direction of the bedroom that elongated, then climbed. None of us said a word, but Rachel snickered, then Coop did, and I shook my head.
At least Jake had Frankie fully distracted.
“Call Wittaker, and I’ll call…” Bubba began, and I nodded, the phone already at my ear as I headed toward the balcony.
Wittaker answered on the first ring. “Did Frankie and Ian sign any releases for their performance in London tonight? Also, a heads-up about public performances would have been appreciated, but I’m sure we can manage this.”
“Good evening to you,” I said drily as I stepped out and the sounds of the city wrapped around me. “It’s always a pleasure to hear from you.”
“I’m aware. Our conversations often bring me similar joy, however, I am concerned about what if anything they signed with regard to their performance tonight?”
“Nothing,” I told him. “The girls didn’t ask them to, and if paperwork had been involved, we’d have consulted you.”
Wittaker exhaled a breath. “Good, then we’ll be in a position to negotiate if they want to use that footage. It’s already all over social media. The debut of Bound Hearts. Nice name by the way, very catchy. But my phone started ringing, including the last two producers who hadn’t gotten back to us. The ripple effect was pretty instantaneous.”
“Not surprising,” I said. The ring of the doorbell had me glancing over my shoulder as Coop rose. The girls from Torched streamed in ahead of the first wave of waiters bringing up several rolling tables of food and drink. “They were pretty awesome tonight. But put a pin in any offers, run them by the entertainment attorney, and we’ll commit to nothing until Frankie and Bubba both have a chance to review everything. Tonight was amazing for them, but Frankie did this as much for KC and the girls as for her and Bubba.”