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“I’m considering it,” Rachel said, glancing at me.
“Green and Murphy.” A waitress appeared wearing a short skirt, fishnet stockings, and a black crop top withWinston’sin silver piping across her chest like all the other female staff. “Stage manager sent me to fetch you. You’re up.”
“Roger that.” Andy stood and squeezed my sister’s shoulder. “Pay attention, Rach. We’re gonna blow your mind.”
“What song are you doing?” I asked, unable to keep the thrill of excitement from my voice.
“‘Everlong,’” Collin said.
Holy shit. The new Foo Fighters’ song fromThe Colour and the Shapealbum. I was so excited to hear it performed live that I almost didn’t care anymore that I was just a tagalong.
“Talk afterward?” Collin asked, his gaze on my sister.
“Sure,” Rachel said.
Collin pointed at me. “You too, Ears?”
“I don’t know—”
“I do.” Collin cut me off. “I wanna hear your honest opinion on how Andy and I do.”
“All right.” I nodded, but he didn’t see it. He was already on the move.
Those jeans that made love to his ass commanded my attention. Or they did currently. I couldn’t wait to see Collin perform.
As Andy and Collin stepped onto the stage, I leaned forward, taking it all in.
Andy went to the center mic and cranked the pole up to his height. He wasn’t as tall as Collin, but he was at least six feet.
Collin moved to the right of his friend. He had his Epiphone, but I knew he could sing too. After school, sometimes girls coaxed him to. Leaning against the hood of Andy’s Chevy passenger van, Collin would strum his guitar and his inky hair would fall into his eyes. Singing and playing his guitar, he was a total swoon like now, only more so under the lights. He stepped closer to the mic in front of him and lowered his head.
I held my breath as he strummed the opening chords to the song. Bass beat and lead, he played both parts like Dave Grohl had on theHoward Stern Show. Grohl was good, no doubt, but in my opinion, Collin was better.
His head bouncing to the rhythm, Collin leaned his weight back onto one booted heel as Andy put his mouth to the microphone and sang.
Andy’s voice was different than it had been at the Christmas show. Not falsetto, like at work, just the breathy perfection the song required. His expression earnest, he crooned words about a new and desperate love.
Rachel and I sighed in unison. Our hands came together, then separated to clap as the duo finished.
The hushed crowd went nuts, and the two best friends took a bow together. Andy thanked the crowd and introduced the band following them.
“They’re good,” I said to Rachel.
“Yeah.” Her eyes bright, she grabbed my hand. “Should I say yes?”
“Definitely.” I squeezed her fingers. “But Collin is—”
“I know.” She nodded decisively. “He’s better than me on guitar.”
“Yeah,” I said, letting out a relieved breath. My sister was good on strings, but Collin was clearly in another league.
“Hey.” Andy reappeared with Collin right behind him.
“What did you think?” Collin asked, his silver gaze locked on me.
“You slowed the opening chords,” I said as I stood. “And shortened the breakdown.”
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not an original idea. I was just doing what Grohl did onStern.”
