Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“It’s time,” someone called from the tunnel at the end of the atrium.
Beat held out his hand to Melody and she took it, nearly felling him with gratitude. He savored the natural glide of her slim fingers twining between his bigger ones, barely banking the impulse to bring them to his mouth and kiss them. They walked side by side through the tunnel, flanked by security, bright lights beckoning to them from the other end. The cheering, chanting, stomping, and whistling grew louder, until they couldn’t have traded words even if they tried. So they simply stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the stage breathing in each other’s air. Melody allowed Beat to rest his lips against her forehead, their fingers tightening in each other’s grips.
“We’re back from commercial,” called a young woman in a headset. “In ten . . . nine . . .”
“Are we just winging it?” Melody shouted up at him while quickly handing her coat to someone in a headset. “Or do you have lines prepared?”
“We’re winging it.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Sort of like we’ve been doing this whole time?”
He laughed and it hurt.
We better go, she mouthed, as if she knew.
Reluctantly, he nodded and they walked out onto the stage to the roar of a seemingly endless crowd. It extended beyond the barriers of Rockefeller Center, spilling out into the avenue and side streets. People hung out of office building windows, lining rooftops, and standing on top of cars.
Someone in front of the stage signaled him, circling their finger rapidly.
In other words, hurry the hell up.
“Ladies and gentlemen . . .” Beat started.
He angled the microphone downward so Melody could reach it. “We are ever so proud to reintroduce . . .”
“The Terror Twins.”
“The Dirty Duo.”
“Our mothers.”
“Steel Birds,” they shouted into the same microphone, their lips brushing together due to the proximity and Beat’s body quite simply took over, demanding to kiss the mouth that would torment him for the rest of his life. He planted one on her, oblivious to the crowd—at least until their approval turned deafening. To the point that security had to surround them behind the microphone and ferry them toward stage left.
Beat’s whole body throbbed to continue that kiss, but he couldn’t physically touch her another second without having everything. Being with her. Knowing they would be together every single morning, every single night. Anything less was painful, so as soon as they came off the stage and she disconnected their fingers, he kept walking.
And he didn’t stop.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Melody pressed her fingers to her lips as Beat walked away.
The crowd continued to go wild and her heart did the same. It vacillated between hurt and elation and conflict, going haywire.
She should go after him.
She had to go after him.
She’d needed time to regain her trust in him, but she’d never wanted a breach between them and it seemed to be widening by the second.
“Beat!”
The volume of the cheers was too loud—he couldn’t hear her. She could barely hear herself. Although her legs were still wobbly from the kiss, she turned to follow him, but Steel Birds took the stage at that moment—and the ground started to pulse. Fletcher emerged first and took a quick seat at the drums, picking up his sticks, followed by Trina and Octavia walking out into the open side by side, continuing until they were at the very edge of the raised platform. They basked in the white spotlights for a full minute while the audience screamed. Octavia flipped her hair and Trina flexed her biceps, ratcheting up the noise another degree.
And then they joined hands, raising their tightly clasped fists to the sky and the spotlight turned an electric shade of blue. The crowd’s enthusiastic response had Melody slapping her hands over her ears to muffle the noise. She could almost see the high decibels rippling the air around her, the hair raising on her arms.
They were riveting.
Melody couldn’t take her eyes off them. Especially when Trina picked up her guitar, strummed a single note, and shot Melody a wink. As badly as she needed to go after Beat, she couldn’t miss this moment for her mother. For them. She’d accomplished what she’d set out to do and her relationship with Trina would never be the same. It would be better.
Melody’s eyes watered, blurring the last remaining sight of Beat’s back. He’d been swallowed up by the chaotic backstage crowd. She could almost feel it in her stomach the moment he left the building. Where was he going?
Melody was distracted when Octavia picked up her guitar, lifted it over her head, and approached the microphone. “It might be Christmas Eve, but that’s not going to stop us from causing some trouble, is it, Trina?”
“Nothing has ever stopped us before,” purred Trina.
Fletcher laughed into his microphone, as if he was in on the joke, slowly turning the heads of both women. They looked at Fletcher, before returning their attention to each other. Nodding. “For thirty years, people have been asking us the question, ‘What broke up the band?’” Octavia tipped her head toward the drummer. “Well, you’re looking at him.”