She arched her brow. “Hmm?”
“We’re doing a local show. Super last-minute, we want it low-key. I’d really like Amelia to see us perform. And you. If you’re up for it.”
Daisy bit her lip. Amelia would lose her mind seeing her dad in his element. As for Daisy… she hadn’t listened to TKC in years. She’d purged them from her life the moment she left the tour. The music had been a painful echo of everything she’d lost.
“Amelia would love it. I’m happy to bring her. Where are you playing?”
He grinned. “But where else?”
Bullets.
Where it all started.
Daisy’s nerves crackled. Nearly a decade since she’d watched him on that stage. She walked toward the front entrance, theplace that meant so much, in a black minidress, leather jacket, heart thudding like a bass line. The air smelled of rain, and her breath was visible in the cold. The band’s name glowed faintly on the marquee, and her pulse tripped at the sight.
Had anything really changed?
So much. And yet tonight, it felt like nothing had. Tonight, they got to live in the past for a moment and forget the hurt, the years, the things they’d done to each other. Tonight, they were those careless teenagers again.
“It’s cold as balls out here, and I am not waiting in that line,” Anna groaned, eyeing the crowd wrapped around the block.
“Good thing we’re VIP.” Daisy flashed their passes.
“Oh, thank God. Perks of shagging the lead singer.”
Daisy cut her a look, then glanced down at Amelia, who was blissfully unaware. “Anna. Little ears.” She leaned closer, voice low. “And for the record, I haven’t slept with him. Unlike you, who actually slept with Lenny.”
“Barely.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. Lenny and Anna’s love escapade was rather short-lived after their “not-so-explosive” night—Anna’s words—in Los Angeles. Apparently, things had gotten hot and heavy until they weren’t. In short, five seconds in and Lenny, well… Lenny fell asleep. He literally passed out mid-coitus. And Anna, Daisy’s sweet, loving friend, was pissed and she hadn’t letanyoneforget it.
Primarily Lenny.
As for Jameson and Daisy, something had clearly shifted between them in LA. That night in the club and everything that followed had awakened something deep within them. Something she had always known was there, but hadn’t been ready to face. Stolen glances now carried weight, gentle touches were never unnoticed, and every time he spoke her name,Daisy’s stomach fluttered with that familiar, exhilarating energy that only he could summon.
Hence the butterflies currently fluttering in her stomach.
Daisy flashed the VIP passes to the bouncer and was immediately waved inside. The moment she stepped through the doors, a wave of nostalgia hit her. The smell of bourbon, worn wood, and dim light wrapped around her like an old song. Aside from a few updated fixtures and a fresh coat of paint, Bullets was still exactly as she remembered. It was alive, loud, and full of memories she’d never quite outrun.
“Well, I’ll be damned!”
“Frankie!” Daisy wrapped her arms around him.
“I had a feeling you’d show up to watch your guy.” He grinned.
“Oh, Frankie, he’s not my—”
“Can’t bullshit a bullshitter, kid. There was always something between you and Kingston. Even an old bar rat like me could see it.”
She didn’t argue. He wasn’t wrong. She and Jameson had always carried a rare kind of torch. The kind others envied, that burned stubbornly through every storm and heartbreak that tried to snuff it out.
“And who’s this princess?” he asked.
“I’m Amelia,” she said, shy but proud. “I’m here to see my dad play.”
Frankie’s eyebrows jumped, eyes flicking to Daisy. “Living proof,” he said, chuckling.
Daisy steered away from the topic with a smile. “How’ve you been, old man?”
