Moments later, they were in Jameson’s old Land Cruiser, hands linked over the center console.
“What’s going on?” Daisy pressed softly.
His smile faltered. “Nothing.”
“Please don’t do that.”
He glanced sideways. “Do what?”
“Keep things from me because you think I can’t handle them. I’m a big girl, Jameson.” She pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms.
He arched a brow, smirking. “Trust me. I know you’re a big girl, Daisy.”
“Don’t try to be cute.” She shot him a glare, though her heart skipped anyway. “What were you talking about with my parents?”
He sighed, tightening his grip on the wheel. “I don’t want to ruin tonight. Can we talk about it after?”
The plea in his eyes softened her. “Okay,” she whispered, choosing—for now—to let it go.
They drove the rest of the way to Oakland mostly in silence. But Daisy’s anticipation only grew as they parked and joined the flood of fans pouring into the Coliseum.
Inside, the air pulsed with neon hair, black leather, and pure electric sound. Daisy clutched Jameson’s arm as they made their way toward the stage. Her heart felt like it might explode. This was her first real concert—the moment she’d dreamed of since she was six years old.
The lights dropped and the crowd roared.
And then the opening act took the stage.
Daisy barely noticed the rest of the band at first. Not when she could feel Jameson’s gaze on her like a spotlight.
The first chord hit and her whole body reacted before her mind caught up, a pulse in her chest, a rhythm in her bones. She glanced up, and there he was, watching her like she was the only thing that mattered.
Lenny Kravitz came out, grinning, and something in Daisy’s throat tightened so fast it startled her. She blinked hard, willing herself not to cry in public.
Next to her, Jameson’s expression shifted. Like he’d decided something.
And for the first time since they met, Daisy let herself believe it could be the beginning of something truly special.
A second later, the arena exploded. Daisy shrieked with joy, clutching his hand as the opening notes of “American Woman” blasted through the speakers.
Jameson leaned down and promised Daisy that TKC would cover it at their next Bullets show, dedicated solely to her, his “American Woman.”
The crowd roared when U2 finally took the stage.
They didn’t stop moving the entire show. They danced, screamed, and sang until their voices cracked. Daisy shrieked with joy, clutching his hand as “With or Without You” blasted through the arena.
It was one of their songs.
By the end of the night, Daisy was flushed and glowing.
“This was one of the best nights of my life,” she whispered as they stepped outside into the cool air. She pressed against him, her lips brushing his. “I’m so glad it was with you.”
“Me too,darlin’,” he murmured, kissing her softly.
A group of rowdy kids catcalled, breaking them apart with a mix of laughter and embarrassment. Daisy darted to his car, cheeks red.
Since it was just past her curfew, Daisy called her father and informed him that they were headed home. After hanging up with him, Daisy pressed play on their earlier conversation.
“Will you tell me now?”
