I could see her over at the side of the stage, watching. Listening. Cheering me on.
“Thank you,” I said, and the crowd noise swelled again. When things had quieted down enough that people could hear me again, I said, “I literally couldn’t be here right now without all of you. And everyone on this stage. Everyone backstage. And all the beautiful people sitting up there.” I pointed and dragged my finger along the big windows on the VIP room, up at the back, overlooking the club.
I glanced side stage and I could see Taylor, standing with the other girls. She blew me a kiss.
I looked down at the line of monitors in front of me, the black of the speakers helping me to concentrate.
“I’d say the most important part of my job as a music producer is knowing how a song should sound. Knowing who should play what part, what instrument, and how they should play it. And being able to communicate what I hear in my head to the musicians I’m collaborating with. So, I’ve taken this special song and tried to reimagine it for the musicians on this stage. We’ve been rehearsing it in secret and I think we have a pretty good lineup to play it for you.”
The crowd kept applauding, whistling. I knew I had them on the edge of their seats for whatever was about to come.
I turned to hold up a hand in each musician’s direction as I spoke. “We’ve got Xander Rush on drums. Matt Brohmer is on bass. And Ashley Player is putting down his guitar on this one to kill it on lead vocals. I’m gonna play lead guitar and do some backing vocals. And I want to welcome the members of Dirty, who’re helping us out.” More applause. More screams. “Jesse Mayes and Seth Brothers are gonna play some rhythm guitar for us. Zane Traynor is gonna play the shit out of his harmonica. And Dylan Cope is gonna absolutely slay this thing on maracas and the güiro. That’s this scraper instrument…” People laughed as Dylan scraped the güiro in his mic with focus.
I looked at Taylor again. I could see her clearly. Her hand went to her face, and I knew she knew what song it was. Wasn’t every day a güiro made an appearance at a rock concert.
“But maybe most important of all,” I said, “to pull this off right, we’ve got the absolutely stunning Elle Delacroix up here to grace us with some killer vocals. We’ve got some big shoes to fill on the vocal harmony here. Mick Jagger and Merry Clayton sang on the original track, and we’re gonna do our own thing tonight. Elle’s gonna blow you away. I hope you enjoy it.”
“You forgot Summer,” Ash said into his mic.
“Oh, shit,” I said, and people kinda laughed and whistled for Summer. “The beautiful Summer Sorensen is gonna play piano.”
Summer waved at the crowd.
“I didn’t forget you,” I told her. “I’m just nervous. And you’re so quiet back there.”
“No one’s ever accused me of being quiet,” she said, and the crowd laughed. “But this is your moment, sweetheart.”
The crowd exploded with noise again, for me. Then a hush spread through the room as I stood at the mic in silence. I took a deep breath. A few people started saying my name.
Cary… Cary… Cary…
It spread, growing into a chant that resounded through the room, then broke apart in applause and whistles and screams.
“I just have one more thing to say,” I said. “This night would not be possible for me without one special person who came into my life recently. When my best friend, Gabe, died…” The whole room quieted down to hear me, and I took another deep breath before going on. “It really felt like I’d fallen into a black hole. We’d just bought a recording studio together, and I thought when we got home from tour we’d hang out there and record our next album, so we could produce it ourselves and have creative control over it. Make it the album we most wanted to make together. But that didn’t happen. We never got to make that album. So I called the studio Little Black Hole.” I paused to take another breath as the crowd waited, listening. “I couldn’t even walk in the door there. But then this beautiful woman walked into my life. And she brought light into the dark. She made some things possible for me that I thought might never be possible again. So right now, I want to play this special song for a special girl named Taylor. This was Gabe Romanko’s favorite Rolling Stones song, and it’s her favorite, too.” I looked over at her. “I love you, Taylor.”
I started into “Gimme Shelter” on my Gibson, and Elle came in with that haunting falsetto that kicked off the song. Then Ash started accompanying her. The song built and it was fucking magical. Goosebumps broke out all over my body. Cold sweat ran down my spine.
By the time it was done, I could feel the whole room beating like one giant heart to the rhythm of the song.
I could feel the strange emptiness of Gabe not being there on the stage with me.
But I could feel the love and the energy of everyone around me, too.
As the lights went down and the roar of the crowd went up, the musicians all swarmed me. I hugged them all, quickly, and made my way to the side of the stage, where Taylor was waiting. Her eyes shone with tears as I pulled her into my arms.
“I love you so much,” she said.
“I’m shaking with adrenalin,” I said, burying my face in her hair. “I can’t believe I did it.”
“You did it, baby.” She hugged me tight.
“I love you,” I told her, kissing her neck. “How soon can we get naked?”
Taylor laughed as my hands wandered down to her ass. “Are you always this handsy after you come offstage?”
“Maybe? Do you like it?”
“Yes…” She groaned a little, clinging to me as I nipped her ear with my teeth.
“Bonus, people will leave us alone if we’re making out…”
“Then let’s make out,” she said breathlessly.
I kissed her, steering her back into the shadows and up against a wall. I could hear people all around us, but no one came close.
“Baby,” she said. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Proud enough to take a ride on my cock back in the dressing room?”
She laughed again, and she took my face in her hands so she could look in my eyes. “Proud enough to be your woman for the rest of my life.” Then her smile faded as I took her face in my hands and the mood grew serious.
“Then you should marry me,” I told her.
“Then you should propose.”
I kissed her again. “Maybe I will. If you promise to show up at every show wearing a low-cut dress like this.” Then I kissed my way down between her breasts, and hooked a finger into her dress—and her bra. I tugged, exposing one taut pink nipple, and swiped my tongue over it.
“Oh—that’s dirty.” She wrapped her arms around my neck, trying to hide what I was doing, as I sucked her nipple into my mouth. “Everyone’s here…”
I swept my tongue around her nipple, then kissed my way back up to her lips. “Welcome to rock ’n’ roll, sweetheart,” I said. “It’s a dirty business.”
She grinned and I kissed her, delving my tongue into her sweet mouth. My heart was thudding, steady and strong in my chest—the high of having her here, in my corner, in my arms, fueling me. I slid a hand up between us to cup her breast, teasing the bared nipple with my thumb.
“Let me inside you,” I murmured, kissing my way along her jaw to her ear. “I want to be inside you for the rest of the night.”
“Literally?”
“As long as we can both handle it.” I sucked her earlobe into my mouth and squeezed her nipple, rolling it in my fingers. I could feel her tremble, her body hot against mine. “Actually… I want to be inside you for the rest of my life.”
Her eyes locked with mine.
“But that part’s more symbolically speaking,” I clarified.
“Uh-huh.” She sighed as I kissed her neck again. She fixed her dress, covering her breast. Then she took my hand. “Let’s go get started, then.”
“On which part? The physical or the symbolic…?”
“Both?” she suggested with a grin.
> “Lead the way,” I said, and she tugged me along with her, down the stairs and behind the stage. Through the organized chaos of the crew at work. The band members scattered around with friends, talking, drinking. Security and management standing by, overseeing everything.
Everyone drifting past me like I was a ship, passing through. There was a certain rhythm to it. A flow. Like a current, deep underwater.
An undertow, drawing us down.
For the first time in a very long time, I flowed right along with it, carried on the stream.
It didn’t sweep me under.
“You know what?” I said, and Taylor turned back to hear me. “This is my favorite day that I’ve ever been alive.”
She smiled. “Me, too.”
Epilogue
Cary
Wake Me Up
August
“Where is she?” I asked Talia, as Liam guided me through backstage.
“Dressing room.”
She pointed us in the right direction and we headed straight there. I’d been on the road with the Players and Dirty for months, and tonight, my band was opening a hometown arena show in Vancouver, on the eve of a scheduled tour break. Which meant the vibe was different than at an away show—the backstage area thick with VIPs: friends, family and people from the local industry who’d been invited to party with us.
I brushed past them all. All I wanted was to get into that room with Taylor.
I really should’ve been with her all day. But nominations for the MTV Video Music Awards had come out a couple of weeks ago, the Players were nominated for several, and since this was the first time we were back in Vancouver since then, Brody had lined up a bunch of media interviews for us. My business partner—Taylor—had approved of my schedule for today even though she knew it conflicted with the ultrasound appointment.
That was how much she wanted me to do the interviews. She’d convinced me to do them, somehow, but all the way here in the car I was going nuts. I hated that I’d missed the ultrasound for a work thing. But I was still figuring out how to balance everything. My work life and my home life, without going overboard on one or the other.
Often, I took my cues from her. Taylor just seemed to navigate both so effortlessly, like she was born for this life.
We found the door with the handmade sign taped to it; it had a picture of the Lovely Madness album cover and said Cary’s Dressing Room. I threw the door open and found Taylor waiting for me. She hopped to her feet, her belly bulging in her black dress. She had an undeniable glow about her. With her natural, dirty-blonde hair—now featuring a few pink streaks underneath—worn down around her shoulders and the sparkle in her eyes when she saw me, she was a fucking vision.
I’d gotten her pregnant accidentally, right at the beginning of the tour. Somehow, the pill had failed us.
Fate?
But neither of us was exactly upset about it.
“Holy fuck, I missed you.”
I heard Liam close the door for us, leaving us alone, as I swept her into my arms. I laid a kiss on her, dipping her back a bit.
“Wow,” she gushed. “We had breakfast together this morning. You can’t possibly miss me that much.”
“I missed everything,” I said.
“It’s all good,” she assured me. “How were the interviews?”
“Good.”
“I’m so glad. It’s important for you to do these things. Without me always holding your hand.”
“I know.”
The band had divided and conquered, and I’d done three interviews with Xander and Summer today. Ash and Matt did the other ones. I still didn’t love interviews, but I could get through them as long as Xander was with me. I still needed that, either him or Taylor by my side.
We’d been living a normal-ish life; I was no longer so racked with fear every time I left the house. There were good days and bad days, but thanks to my woman, a horse, some incredible therapists, and a lot of hard work and dedication, I’d gotten control of my anxiety and almost eliminated it completely from my life.
Taylor was a huge part of that. She took care of my schedule, made sure I had all the support I needed on the road and at home, and made sure that the demands of band life didn’t overwhelm me.
Before we went on tour, I’d made her my business partner, because she was so much more to me than an assistant. She was my life partner. Now she was my partner in my production company, in Little Black Hole, everything I had. That way, she’d reap half the rewards of everything I did, and carry half the responsibility, too. We were in this together. And she’d stepped right up, been amazing in every way.
Because of her, touring was not only possible, it was enjoyable.
I really wasn’t sure how I’d get through it if she had to stop touring at some point in the pregnancy. But I’d promised her I wouldn’t freak out about it in advance. And I’d promised the band that if that day came, we’d sit down and talk about it, figure it out together.
That I wouldn’t give up on any of them.
“It’s okay to miss one or two things because you’re working,” she reminded me. “You’ve come to every other thing that you possibly can. And you came to the other ultrasound.”
“Yeah. But—”
“The important thing is… you got everything done and you didn’t stress out. I’m proud of you.” She looked me deep in the eyes. “No panic?”
“No panic.” I squeezed her. “But I’m definitely gonna lose it if you don’t cough it up soon. Did you get it?”
“Yes. I got it.” She grinned, pulling an envelope from her purse.
Because I wasn’t with her at the appointment, we’d agreed that she’d ask the doctor not to tell her or show her the gender of our baby. Instead, she had it written down, so the two of us could find out together if we were having a boy or a girl.
“They let me hear the heartbeat, too,” she said. “And all I could think was, if Cary was here, he’d hear music in it.”
“You’re killing me. I don’t ever want to miss something this important again.”
“I know. But you didn’t miss it. It’s right here. And anyway, life happens. We can’t always control it.”
She was right. I still hated that part; letting go of control. It wasn’t comfortable for me.
But at least there were still some things I could control. Or try to.
And I had one of them in my back pocket right now.
“You’re here now,” she said, reaching up to kiss me. “And you’re happy, and that’s all that matters to me.” She waved the envelope in the air. “Well… and this.”
“You sure you didn’t see anything?”
“Nope. I was very good. I looked away when she told me to. I didn’t want to see it without you there. It’s impossible to see much, anyway, without them telling you exactly what you’re looking at. It’s all very blobby and wiggling around… I definitely saw the head, though. And an arm. Either that or a very large penis, but I don’t think so. It was on the wrong end of the body. I think.”
I wrapped my arms around her. “Maybe it was a giant penis and he takes after his daddy.”
“Nope. Sorry, babe. This was freakishly big. Had to be an arm. Or maybe it was a foot? I’m telling you. It’s a mystery blob.” She pulled something else from her purse. “Look, they got this amazing picture, though.”
She handed me a strip of images they’d printed out for us. And she was right, it was pretty much a blobby thing. But one of the images was amazing. It was a closeup of our baby’s head. I could see the profile, the teeny, tiny little nose, and a little fist held up in front of its face.
“Meet your baby, Cary,” Taylor said softly, slipping her arm around my waist. “I know we saw it before, but it was more of a jellybean situation. Now it’s got a face.”
It totally did. I couldn’t stop staring at it.
“And look,” she said, “it’s doing a fist pump, like, ‘Hells yeah!’”
“Wow.” I studied it
, my eyes misting up with tears. “Okay, we have to stop calling our baby it. Open that envelope.”
“Okay.” She poked her finger under the flap dramatically, then paused. “But before we do… I just want to tell you. I know we haven’t talked about picking a name yet, and I know you’ve been thinking about it but not saying anything, because I know I’ve been thinking about it. And I think if it’s a boy we should name him Gabriel.”
I stared at her. The tears were creeping up and I just wanted to keep it together long enough to process all of this.
“You know,” she prompted, when I said nothing, “after Gabe?”
“Yeah. That’s a good idea.” I poked at the corner of my eye, trying to force back the tears. “But what if it’s a girl?”
She shrugged. “Then Gabrielle. Or Gabriella. Whatever you like. They’re both pretty.”
“Okay, open it before I fall apart.”
Taylor grinned, tears sparkling in her eyes, and we squished together to look as she ripped open the envelop.
“Careful, you’ll rip it,” I said, both of us craning our necks to glue our eyes to the paper as she unfolded it. Three words had been written on the paper for us.
It’s a boy.
“Baby Gabe,” Taylor said, her voice catching, and I got shivers all through my body. “Oh my God,” she whispered, and she buried her face in my shirt as I buried my face in her hair. “Tell me you’re happy.”
“I’m so, so happy,” I said, my throat scratchy. Shit. I had to hold it together here. I had a show to play in like half an hour. Plus, I wanted this moment to be perfect for Taylor.
Four in. Hold four. Four out…
“You okay?” she asked, smiling a little.
I laughed nervously. “I’m good. Just need to breathe so I don’t pass out.” I was kidding, thankfully. I hadn’t had a full-on panic attack since my birthday last year.
She held up the photo again. “Look at him. He’s a little rock star already.” Then she looked at the paper again. “Our little boy. I can’t believe it.”
Lovely Madness: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 4) Page 49