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Simon sat at the back of the dark theater. There was a single spotlight on her and the acoustics of the place were like injecting music into his chest. He’d sneaked into the room when she was halfway through the first piece.
Seeing her play on a stage again had hit him like a sledgehammer. She was in the wrong uniform. Not in the all black, with her stockings and heels that made him nuts. This Margo was buttoned up like he’d first seen her.
Only he knew so much more about her now. Knew all the passion she kept inside back then. How much she’d shared with him now. But when the first strings of “The Becoming” came from the stage, his heart slammed.
He stood and paced up the walk. He wanted to run from that song. The song he’d been singing when he royally fucked up and bled all over the stage. The song that had given him Margo.
The song that had taken everything.
He bent at the waist and held his knees. His phone buzzed against his hip, but he ignored it. The song had been haunting before, but now it was a story unto itself and he wanted to sing it. Felt the words bloom in his throat for the first time in so goddamn long.
He gasped and dragged in a breath as she finished and one of the judges actually clapped. He wanted to howl for his girl. He paced the back of the theater as she thanked the judges or whomever they were. The people making the decisions.
The people that obviously had to take Margo after that performance.
She came up the walk with her case and he scooped her off her feet. “Fuckin’ A, girl.”
“Okay?”
“More than okay. Holy fuck.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Simon.”
“Fuck ‘em. They know that was fucking awesome.” He hauled her up and slammed his mouth over hers. “Amazing. And we’re gonna go sing it.”
“What?” She laughed and pulled him out of the room and into the hallway. “Where is this coming from?”
“Doc Connor said I was good to start practicing, but damn. I just—what if I suck?”
“Then you keep going until you don’t. That’s why you have to get a coach.
“I gotta try.”
“You need to see a coach.”
His hip buzzed again. “Jesus.” He dug it out and looked at the screen. “Well, we’re not going to do it right now.”
“Is everything okay?” She gripped his arm. “Baby?”
He nodded. “Baby. Harper’s at the hospital. Has been since last night.”
“She just freaking FaceTimed me.”
“Did she look like she was in labor?”
“No. How would I know? I don’t know anyone that’s done that crazy business.”
He laughed and kissed her temple. “I love you.”
“Shut up.”
“Sure, I say these heartfelt things and you tell me to shut up.”
“Ass.” She shoved him. “Did she have it already?”
He shrugged and looked at his phone. “I quote, ‘get your ass here, now’ end quote. That’s all I know.”
“Well, c’mon. Let’s go.”
They rushed out of the theater and to the parking garage she’d ran through. Simon had found a spot in there. The hospital wasn’t far from where they were and they met Jazz and Gray in the parking lot.
“I can’t believe it’s time.” Jazz squeezed Margo’s hands.
“I can’t believe you two FaceTimed me while she was in labor.”
“That was Harper. She said she had to give the good luck call. She was pretty high though, so that’s why she was so excited. Epidural.” She gravitated to Gray again, waddling beside him. “Good stuff. I’m totally getting one of those.”
“You don’t want to go all natural? With all the crazy food you’re doing?”
“Dude, pain. No. Hell, no. It’s bad enough I’ve got this bowling ball coming out of me.”
Gray kissed her forehead. “Whatever you say, babe.”
Simon linked his fingers with Margo as they got to the elevator. “Did she have the baby yet?”
“Oh, yeah. Didn’t you—oh. No, of course you didn’t. We were trying to hold off until your audition was over, but the kiddo said no.”
Margo laughed. “What’d did she have?”
“Girl.” Jazz shook her head. “I thought Nick was going to tell you.”
“Just told us to get our asses here,” Simon said.
“Typical.” Jazz rubbed her belly. “I was hungry. Harper’s resting a little between feedings and Deacon won’t put the baby down.”
Simon laughed. “None of this surprises me.”
“Wait till you see her. So tiny. I was justifiably afraid it was going to be a manster like Deak, but no. She’s a perfect six pounds eight ounces, I think? Something like that. Alexa Grace McCoy. She’s perfect. Did I mention that?”
“Maybe.”
She hugged Gray’s arm. “Just perfect.”
They got to the maternity ward and Nick was in the waiting room on his phone.
“Nice, fuckface. Couldn’t tell me the baby arrived?” Simon clamped a hand at the back of his neck.
Nick squinted up at him. “I’m sorry, were you here all night with us? No. No you were not.”
“You didn’t call us,” Simon said.
“No excuse.”
Simon dropped into the chair next to him. Christ, he missed his best friend. None more than today when he’d finally heard music in his head for the first time. But right now it wasn’t about his music or his problems. They had to celebrate the first baby of the group.
“How did the audition go?” Jazz asked Margo.
Margo nodded. “Okay, I think.”
“Okay? She fucking rocked it.”
Margo folded her arms. “Hospital.”
“Yeah fucker, keep it modulated and quiet,” Nick said and punched his arm.
He really hated the word modulated. Ever since the surgery his voice had been lower. “Where’s this perfect kid?”
“My perfect kid? The perfect kid that my wife just had?”
Simon stood. “Look at you.” Deacon had scrubs on and some sort of skull cap for all his goddamn hair. He wasn’t aware they made scrubs big enough for Deacon, but there he was. “Did you have to order the scrubs?”
“Shut up. I’m holding the single most perfect angel on the planet and you ask me if I bought my scrubs.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Simon laughed and looked down at the little pink bundle in his arms. “Man, she sure is tiny.”
“Tiny and perfect.”
Margo bit her lower lip and her eyes misted as she stood next to him. “Wow.”
“Totally makes you want one, huh?” Deacon asked.
“Nope.” Margo and Simon said in unison.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Simon put his feet up on the chaise end of the sectional. The entire evening had been shot with all the baby news and the baby happy. Nothing but baby. He had a feeling the entire world was going to be baby for awhile.
Margo dropped next to him on the couch. “Please tell me you were serious when you said no about a baby.”
“No.”
“Oh, thank God.”
He reached over and put his hand over her middle. “You don’t want a little me in there.”
She looked up at him. “Does it make me a bad person if I say no?”
He laughed. “No. I’m perfectly happy with this being the little girl in my life.” Simon reached over his head to where George was perched and gave him a rub.
“Yeah. I can deal with a cat.”
George slipped between them and stretched over both of their laps, a contented purr buzzing as Simon scratched behind her ear.
“I made plans to sit in with the band in a few weeks. After things settle down with the baby.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh…” She reached over and tapped his chin. “You sure you’re ready?”
“Yeah.” He o
pened his palm and Margo settled her hand in his and they laced fingers. “It feels like I should try the first time with them. Just sit in and see if it feels good.”
She rested her cheek on his chest. “I’m glad you’re finally going to try.”
His gut had been churning since listening to Margo at the theater. “I’m going to wash the hospital off.” He lifted the cat and set her on Margo’s lap.
“Okay. I’ll make us something to eat.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. We sort of forgot to eat today.”
She rubbed her flat belly. “We did.”
“Okay, I’ll be out in a few.” He cracked his knuckles as he went down the hall to their master bathroom. Part of him was afraid to open his mouth. What if it sounded awful? Dr. Connor made him run scales in his last meeting and he’d managed to hold a note.
But it had almost cracked. He’d felt it. He hadn’t cracked, but it had been right there.
And then he’d had job upon job. He’d been so busy he’d been able to keep it at the back of his mind, but hearing Margo today. Hearing their music for the first time?
He’d never wanted it more.
Simon turned the shower to hot and made the first scale. He opened his lungs and kept his midrange steady without widening his cords. All the things that he did naturally had to be stuffed down according to the doc. And when he kept them relaxed, it felt good.
He switched on his shower radio. It had been built into the shower when he’d bought the apartment, but he sure as shit hadn’t turned it on before today. He scanned for the classic rock channel and Poison’s “Fallen Angel” blasted out of the speakers.
He slowly hummed. He’d only listened to garbage music for months now. Nothing that even resembled Oblivion. Finally, he sang along with Bret’s verse. He didn’t sing quite as high as Bret, but he kept the notes strong enough that he finished that song and followed it up with a Foo Fighters song.
The door to the bathroom slammed open and Margo opened the glass door of their shower. She stepped in, fully dressed and pressed him against the tile.
“You’re singing.”
“Well, I was.”
Her laughter filled the stall and he dragged her under the spray. “You sound awesome.” She squeaked as the water soaked her shirt.
“I totally deserve a reward.”
“For singing?”
He shrugged then nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“We have like five minutes left on the tater tots.”
He pushed his hard cock into her hand. “I’m fairly sure I can come in about five minutes.”
“Oh, hold me back, buddy.”
“I’ll make you come in two.” He stuffed his hand down her dress pants. “Dare me?”
“Don’t get cocky.”
He unhooked her dress pants and dragged them down her hips. “Oh, that’s it. You’re going to scream.”
Margo held onto the tile as the bathroom went spotty. She had her leg wrapped around Simon’s hip as he drove into her. One minute was a bit of a stretch, but he’d definitely finished her off in under three. She was still breathing heavy as he lifted her onto her toes and went so deep that she choked out a second scream.
“Jesus. You feel so fucking good,” he said against her ear. “Fuck,” he said in that low, low voice that was going to be the death of her. “You came, right?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I was pretty sure, but then you did that silent thing you do when you’re close.”
She scraped her nails down his back and a cracked moan came out.
“That one. Come again.” He rotated his hips. “For me.”
Her thigh quaked and she dug her nails into his ass. His guttural groan slid through her bloodstream like music. She came so hard that the water from the shower went silent, the room fuzzed and there was nothing but Simon.
He jerked against her and she wrapped her arms around him. Instead of nails, she smoothed her palm over his back and their breathing evened out and synched. He smiled down at her, his eyelashes dark and clumped with water. “Damn.”
“Yeah.”
He groaned and pulled out of her. “I guess that means I have to go save our dinner.”
She slapped him on the back. “Go get ‘em, champ.”
He turned back into the spray and soaped down quickly before stepping out.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay,” he said with a laugh.
“Don’t get the floor…all wet,” she said with a sigh. He was already gone and there would be a trail of wet footprints throughout the whole apartment. Good thing she loved him.
Today, more than anything had shown her that. Even if things weren’t exactly perfect. She was pretty sure she was a shoo-in for the audition today. She’d felt good on that stage. Not as good as when she’d been with Oblivion, but everything she’d learned from them would make this work.
And maybe she could work with Gray and Deacon on putting together a few songs to put her name out there for more studio work. She couldn’t deny that they worked well as a band. And now that Simon was actually ready to try to work with the band again, there was actually music in their home again.
A home she’d never thought she’d find with anyone. Let alone a rock star that understood her like no other man had before. She stepped out of the shower and dried off before padding into their bedroom. She went to the far dresser, near the window and pulled out an Oblivion T-shirt from the bottom of the pile then slipped on her lucky red thong.
She followed the humming into the kitchen and found Simon wearing nothing but her candy cane striped apron.
“You have one spectacular ass.”
He turned around, a tater tot—only slightly burned—covered in ketchup. “Why thank you. Hungry?”
“Yes.”
His eyes slid over her shirt and heated. “Naked tater tots?”
“Even better.”
He picked up the huge bowl he’d dumped them in and dropped the apron. “Excellent.”
Epilogue
October 29th
Simon shook out his numb fingers.
“C’mon. Don’t be nervous.”
Simon blew out a breath. “The last practice didn’t go very well.”
“No, but you were able to sing that whole Bad Company song with Nick the other night. You can do this. You didn’t even swear at Jerry during your last vocal session.”
He had found the perfect vocal coach through a friend of Margo’s. Siobhan was a singer in Boston and had a legion of friends. Five bad coaches later and he’d pretty much pledged to send all five of Jerry’s kids to college if he could get him on the stage again.
He looked up at the Fluff and Fold sign. Mrs. Martine had been more than willing to sell him the Laundromat. When he’d told Nick, he’d demanded their first practice as a band to be back in the Fluff.
It had good vibes. The band had been created here and he’d found the first family in the basement of this place. So this had to be the best place for him to sing again.
Margo slid her hand in his as he opened the door. The sound of baby laughter and the scent of dryer sheets blasted his senses. Harper was sitting in the corner with Lexi on her lap. A stroller was next to her with a sleeping Dylan in it. Jazz was tucking a screaming neon green blanket around him.
“There he is.” Nick popped up. “We were afraid you wouldn’t get in from London in time.”
Simon gave him a rueful smile. “Roman keeps me busy.”
Roman also had given him the opportunity to pay his band mates back for the suit that they’d had to endure because of his voice. He patted his pocket for the three envelopes. The least he could do was make everyone’s lives a little easier while they waited out his vocal restrictions.
Nick held up Simon’s Takamine.
“Jesus, let him get in the door,” Deacon said.
“Are you kidding? I can’t fucking wait to get all of us playing again. I’m dying.”
�
��You’re not dying,” Jazz said. She shoved up the strap of her overalls and crossed the room to Simon. “We’ve missed you.”
“Yeah well, Jerry’s been keeping me busy.”
“And we love Jerry.” Jazz said with a little bounce. “I can’t believe your vocal coach swears as much as you do. Your YouTube video for the site was hilarious.”
“And I wasn’t even drunk.” Simon said and sat down. He put his acoustic on his lap. He swiped his palm down his jeans an wrapped his fingers around the fret board.
Margo went over to where Harper was and sat down.
“All right. Let’s see if we can do this, huh? I’m just going to play for a bit first if that’s okay.”
Deacon sat down in one of the orange chairs with his acoustic in his lap. “Sure. Why don’t we do one of our old standbys.”
Nick strummed the first chords of Nickelback’s “I Wanna Be a Rockstar”. “Wait, that’s not it.”
Simon laughed and strummed the correct chords back to him.
Deacon sang the first line and Gray did the low, low line from the ZZ Top guest star in on the song.
They all laughed and Jazz pulled her small drum set forward and sat down. She’d had the baby just a few weeks ago, so she wasn’t quite ready for her full kit.
They transitioned into their own song, “Too Still” and Simon opened his mouth and let the song come out. It was rusty as hell, but it was his voice.
And it was his goddamn band.
Consumed Page 23
