I have ever met Lola Cooper?
She clawed her guitar, eliciting notes that turned me inside out. The people felt it, too; they became nothing but tooth-filled mouths that begged for more. They wouldn't lynch her. They couldn't, not when they'd just learned what I recently had.
Lola was beyond amazing.
Every song merged together for me. They made a map that took the audience through a world of smoke, charcoal and rust. They tasted our enthusiasm, reveled in every lyric like I'd written it just for them. By our last song, I was panting. Sweat turned my skin bronze; shiny and new.
The back of my shirt was soaked through. The front, well... The eyes of every girl in the first row says it all. “Listen up,” I whispered into the mic. “This is our last song.” I let the cries of sadness die out. “It's my favorite. Maybe yours, too.”
Porter and Colt summoned the first notes that heralded No More Stars.
Bathing in the cheers, I stalked across the stage. Lola met my eyes. She was glowing, lips puckered. Everything in her face, her aura, made me think of sex. I wanted to grab her, kiss her harder than I had in the elevator.
The gravity between us tugged. I saw it, how her joy stumbled. She wasn't angry. It wasn't the cold wall of rejection. With the heat of our momentum—the music—sinking into both our souls...
Lola shivered with lust.
Fuck. Fucking hell.
Pouring that voracious need into my voice, I belted out the words to No More Stars. She followed me down, rampaging over her strings. Nothing could stop us; none of us.
Four and a Half Headstones was whole.
Once I had Lola...
I would be whole, too.
- Chapter Fourteen -
Lola
I'd never felt more alive.
Perspiration ran down my sternum, the backs of my knees were taut as elastics. I thought, if I tried, I could have jumped straight up and never come down.
This was what playing music was all about.
Laughing, crying, none of it mattered; none of it would have helped. I was a bundle of nerves ready to explode. Or, perhaps I had exploded. My ears were ringing, the powder keg of my mind leaving fragments that coated one word across the inside my skull.
Rock star.
I was a fucking rock star.
When I used to stand backstage or in a crowd during shows, I thought I knew what it would be like to play in front of so many people. I thought I understood.
I didn't have a clue.
Drezden pranced for them, he stormed and kicked and screamed. Veins stood out on his throat. The insides of his forearms became trails, his tattoos rippling while he strangled the microphone. In his element, he was more beautiful than ever.
I'd been worried I'd fumble, but something had changed; the concentrated essence of his voice wasn't aimed at me. Standing back where I was, I was spared his attack.
It was the crowd that took every hit.
The ending notes of No More Stars faded in my ears. No, not yet. I'm not done yet. On a whim, I tangled up my strings and extended the music. It was spontaneous, but the fans wailed for more. Next to me, Porter and Colt went silent. Abruptly, I was performing a guitar solo.
I met Drezden's gaze. Like that day, when I'd auditioned, I felt the pull from him. This was the man who turned me inside out. He felt his way into me with just his eyes. Drezden didn't need anything else to touch that place deep down in my core.
Quaking in my vinyl boots, I let my guitar go; it swung from its strap like a pendulum.
The dead silence was brief, swallowed up by the black hole of the Fillmore's crowd. It was as if every single person in there was making as much noise as they could.
They crowed for an encore, but someone was leading me off stage. Without thinking, I ripped my arm away. I didn't want to go anywhere! This was my home, my life, and every nerve begged to keep me standing in the worship of—
“Lola,” Sean said, teeth glinting. “Lola! Holy shit! You were amazing!”
I shoved him backwards with my hug. Together, we stumbled backstage, away from the blinding lights. “Sean! Sean, oh my gosh! Did you see? Did you see that?”
We were jumping, a mess of shouts that kept building with our excitement. What we said didn't matter. Only our feelings counted.
Gripping my shoulders, he gave me a shake that rattled my teeth. “How did you get so