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Again, I blame the tequila.
“Who are you calling horndog?” I ask, pushing my shot glass toward her as the boys continue speaking to the crowd with excitement.
More screams and shouts, chanting their band name over and over again.
“We’re happy to be back where all the magic started!” Rad chimes in, kicking his bass drum with excitement.
“You all are in for a treat tonight. We’ve been working on some new pieces.” Wait, what? I turn on my stool, staring at the man grinning on stage. He sends me a goddamn wink as he saunters around, hyping up the crowd even more. That’s the Kieran I remember.
“They have new music?” Ode asks over the shouting.
I shrug. “I—”
“You had no idea,” she surmises, pouring me another shot. “Well, here’s to bigger and better things from those dick faces.” She clinks her glass against mine again.
“Bigger and better,” I giggle, letting all my inhibitions go as Kieran belts out the first note of the first song he ever sang under this roof.
Twirling in my chair, nostalgia presses heavily on my chest. The first time I saw Kieran after high school was on that very stage. He sauntered, eating up the attention of their growing fanbase.
Like now.
He eats it up, smiling at them, soaking up their screams. I swivel my eyes toward the door girl sitting in her seat, staring at the men on stage with raw hunger.
Yeah, they’re fucking hot. And fucking mine.
That was the same spot all those years ago. Where I sat and watched with my heart in my throat, begging Kieran to recognize me. Just once. I wanted to hear him call me Blue and kiss me and tell me he missed me.
Dead End is where it all started for us. From the moment I sent that email asking them to play, I sealed my fate. From the frantic fucking against Booker’s desk with an audience behind us. To that moment we walked into the Castle house on the lake in Missouri and left changed people, leaving me with a little present I’d come to love. Never regret.
Our story isn’t a short book. It’s long. Fucking tragic. Filled to the brim with angst and betrayal. It’s four hundred thousand words of our start, our middle, our tumultuous end. Bringing us to the unexpected reunion. The tears, shouts, fights, and finally—our new beginning.
We’ve come full circle.
In the very place that started us. This is the story of Whispered Words and the girl they so desperately loved, forgot, ruined, and pieced back together. Only this time, I’m getting my happy ending.
No matter what.
Fuck. Tequila makes me horny and sappy. I need another goddamn drink before I shed some tears.
“Another,” I rasp, turning back to Ode, who grins, watching my misty eyes with fascination.
“You’ve got it so bad, girl,” she says, leaning in so only I can hear her. “Make them make it count this time. If they fuck up…”
“They won’t.” At least, I hope not.
“No,” she says, filling my shot glass. “They wouldn’t dare fuck it up again. You know why? Because they’ve got it bad, too. Even worse than before.”
I nod in agreement.
Taking another shot, I watch with hearts in my eyes as they continue their set into two more familiar songs. The crowd waves their hands in the air. Phones come out of pockets, recording their free show. People shout their names individually, gaining their smiles.
Kieran huffs breathlessly into the microphone, wiping the rogue beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.
“Central City! You guys are amazing! You enjoying the show?” he shouts, earning yells of approval. “Good! It’s so damn good to be back here!” He grins more, showing off his pearly whites. “You all know this is where we started. Right on this stage.”
“Hell yeah!”
“You’re amazing, Kieran!” that annoying, familiar voice shouts again. I swear if she shows her tits, the new door girl is going to have to walk her out before I beat her eyeballs in.
