The door opens behind me, and I turn to meet Jacks’s grin with my own. His arms come around my shoulders and his lips close over mine. He draws back to stare at me and shakes his head.
“I love you so much, Ritch. I kind of want to throw you down on that couch and have my way with you, but I think you’re going to want to see the next act.”
“Mmm,” I hum against his lips, pulling him into another kiss. “Do I get a choice?”
He shakes his head, laughing, and takes my hand. “The harp girl is here, and she’s scared to death. Let’s go be friendly faces in the crowd.”
I swallow thickly against a lump forming in my throat. “You really are the most beautiful person, Jacks.”
He squeezes my hand and leads me back out into the crowded club.
Epilogue
Jacks – Now
I make my way out of the tour bus, stretching as I step out into the sunshine. Ritchie is waiting for me, his hands crossed loosely over his chest. I go to stand next to him, and we study the vehicle together. The alt-country band that used to own it broke up and we—I—can get a good deal on it.
“What do you think?” I ask him. Nat, Teri, and Drea are inside still, taking pictures and probably planning all the redecorating. As it is, the décor is a little rustic—all knotted pine and plaid flannel. But Bex will work her magic if Nat asks her to, and before long it will be stunning.
“It’s a big step.” He glances at me. “And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to take it. But are you ready?”
I look down at my arms, where Teri’s gorgeous tattoos have once again transformed the scars from my suicide attempt into art. I’m not hiding my mess anymore, and that means owning it, letting Ritchie ask me about it, and being truthful when I answer him.
“My therapist said we can FaceTime if I need it.”
He smiles. “Chanda said the same thing.”
“And Britney can come with us—it’s only two months.”
“I figured she would.” He turns to face me and pulls me to him, his hands on my waist. “Are you comfortable with the rest of it? Hiring people for the crew? Drivers? This is a big deal. And you’d be the one paying for all of it, so you’d be responsible for a whole business.”
I nod. “Nat and Bex offered to help with the business part. They’re both very good at it. And they can teach me; I’m a fast learner. And if my dad’s—my—money can give people like us jobs and make their lives better while we get to make music—well, that’s almost all I want in the world.”
“Almost?” He asks, smiling at me. “What else do you want?”
“You, Ritchie. Always.” There’s a lump in my throat as I say it because for a long time I wasn’t sure I would ever get here. Envisioning a life—a long full life—with someone else. But now? For the first time in my life, I want to grow old. And I want to grow old with him.
“I want to do more than travel across the country for a summer tour.” I continue. “I want to make music with you until we’re old men. I want—if you want—I want to marry you, Ritchie. Will you marry me? Can we be old married men together?”
His eyes close and his smile stretches wide. “It’s all I want in the world, Jacks.”
I pull him into my arms, bury my face in the side of his neck, and inhale the scent of him, the scent that never leaves my mind when we’re apart. I press a kiss there, and then his jaw, and finally his lips. His hand closes around my chin, a caress and a restraint, and I feel him smiling against my lips before he deepens the kiss.
“Hey now, hey now.” Teri’s voice, full of humor, tears us apart. “Save it for the stage.”
Ritchie pulls out of the kiss and flips her off, then his hands are cupping my jaw and he’s kissing me again.
My heart feels like it’s going to explode—from joy, from love, from living.
I hear laughter behind me, but I don’t care. I have freedom, Ritchie, and a lifetime to love him.
Want more Vertical Smile?
Read on for an excerpt from Off Limits.
* * *
Nat
* * *
Bass thuds through my body with a sexy violence as Ritchie breaks into his solo. From behind the drum kit, Jacks bobs his head and grins. A hand runs down my spine; goose bumps break out across my skin. Teri. I turn to my best friend and wrap my arm around her waist, careful not to bump her guitar and break the mood. Her leg comes between mine, and she leans close, her gorgeous, eyeliner-streaked face temporarily blocking my view of the screaming, vocal crowd.
To them, it’s a kiss.
Vertical Smile performances are two parts hedonism, one part theater, but oh, they’re all us—Teri murmuring something in my ear I don’t quite catch and then biting the lobe to make me shake. Jacks escaping from behind the drums to slide his hands into my pants and grind against my ass. One of my hands curling into his sweat-damp mohawk and the other dragging Teri into a real kiss. Ritchie watching it all with a detached, voyeuristic leer.
Teri pulls back from the kiss and winks at me—checking in, like she always does, to make sure we’re still in sync. Then she starts to play along with Ritchie. I give Jacks’ hair one more tug, turn to face him and lick up his neck to his chin. Salt and pot smoke.
I break away; he returns to his kit.
The crowd screams along as I open my mouth and launch into the final verse.
We end the song on a jarring, discordant note, Teri’s motorcycle boot heavy on the reverb pedal, the frantic hum of energy feeding back from the audience into us in a wave so strong it makes me shudder. I don’t have to look over my shoulder to know Ritchie is nodding at Teri in that silent communication thing they do. They grew up in the same shit town in Jersey and know each other better than anyone.
I don’t have to look, no, but I can feel the tie binding the two of them, and Teri to me, and Ritchie to Jacks and Jacks to all of us. The connections between the four of us on perfect, mayhem-filled nights like tonight are so strong they’re palpable in the air between us. Sex, friendship, and music are all tangled up together for us, so when Teri’s lip curls into a sneer and she starts picking out the opening notes of my favorite song, my heart soars in that way it only does on stage.
“This is a song about one of my favorite pastimes,” I smirk into my microphone, and the crowd responds, jumping up and down, shrieking and cheering. “Eating pussy.” I lift my left hand to my lips, fingers spread in a V, and flick my tongue between them.
And off. We. Go.
Off Limits is available in print and ebook.
About the Author
Vanessa North is a romance novelist, a short fiction geek, and a knitter of strange and wonderful things. Her works have been finalists for both the Lambda Literary Award and the RITA© Award, and have garnered praise from The New York Times, The Washington Post, and Publisher’s Weekly. She lives in Northwest Georgia with her family: a Viking, twin boy-children, and a very, very large dog.
Connect with Vanessa:
www.vanessanorth.com
[email protected]
Also by Vanessa North
The Lake Lovelace Trilogy:
Double Up
Rough Road
Roller Girl
* * *
American Heavy Metal:
Hard Chrome
Flying Gold
* * *
Blueberry Boys
Summer Stock
The Dark Collector
Hostile Beauty
High and Tight
The Lonely Drop
The Short Strokes: Collected Stories
Reporting In
Rigged
A Song for Sweater-boy
* * *
Rose & Thorns/Vertical Smile
Off Limits
Don't miss out!
Click the button below and you can sign up to receive emails whenever Vanessa North publishes a new book. There's no charge and no obligation.
https://books2read.com/r/B-A-CWBB-MCUP
B
Connecting independent readers to independent writers.
Out of Sync Page 20