by Vivian Lux
My song
They were opening with my song.
I took a deep breath and my heart fucking stopped.
Breathlessly, I stared as Ewan teased out the opening melody, my hands pressed to my mouth. I could feel each note knifing through my body, sending out alternating ripples of guilt and longing and I swore he was playing it just for me. Each note held some kind of message, a promise. An apology he shouldn't need to make.
My chest hitched. With his music, he was opening me up and laying me bare for myself to finally, clearly, see what I was made of.
I pulled my fingers away from my face and was surprised when they came away wet.
"Damn," August muttered next to me. She was watching closely too, swaying a little as Niall's bassline thundered up seemingly from the abyss. She turned and scanned the crowd. "Holy shit, are you seeing this? They love it."
I barely turned my head, unwilling to take my eyes from Ewan. Hudson sauntered up to the mic and sang the first verse in a slow, quiet hush. "A crack in the mirror / a thin jagged line / you're on the other side / but I'll make you mine."
Jules kicked out three beats on the bass drum that sounded just like my heartbeat thudding in my chest and then suddenly the band slammed together in perfect unison. They were tight, polished. Hudson's voice had never sounded better and he confidently stalked the stage, singing Ewan's words to all the girls in the front row, leaving them breathless and squealing before moving on to promise another one, "for you I'll piece the jagged parts together," but all the while I was watching Ewan because those words were all for me.
Goosebumps marched along my arm even though it was stiflingly hot in the theater. Emotions that had no names swirled around, brought to the surface by the music and I felt each one keenly before the next one lined up to take its place. Joy, sorrow, sadness, ecstasy and some kind of nostalgia for a life I'd never lived and a love I never experienced took hold of me and suddenly my face was completely soaked with tears.
August's fingers brushed back my hair. "You want to go to him?" she asked me, her voice gentle in spite of the need to shout over the music.
I nodded, feeling like my heart was too tight for my chest.
She nodded in return and gestured with her hand. "Go," she said. Then grinned. "I'll stall the rest of them as long as I can."
At least that's what I think she was saying. I couldn't hear her very well because I was already starting to move.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ewan
Onstage we were like satellites, orbiting each other but never actually making contact. So when Niall bumped into me, I looked up from my guitar, startled.
"Oi," he mouthed, lifting his chin in the direction of the wings.
Confused, I turned in the direction he was gesturing.
And that's when I saw her.
CeCe right there, standing just offstage, her fingers pressed to her lips as she watched us.
Watched me.
I fumbled mid-chord, wrenching a stuttering, dissonant shriek from my guitar. Somehow, from way back behind his kit, Jules caught wind of my stupor. He jumped up and raised his sticks to the heavens in the classic rock god pose, before launching into one of his famous standing solos to give me cover.
I yanked off my guitar, shoving it into the hands of a startled technician and sprinted off the stage.
"Oh my god!" CeCe shouted as I rushed to crush her to me. "Ewan! I'm..."
"Ssh," I hushed her, burying my face in her hair. "We don't have to talk about it now."
I felt her nodding against my chest and I wanted to hold her like this forever, but this wasn't the place or the time. I squeezed her tightly and then pressed a kiss to her lips. "Stay?" I begged her.
She bit her lip, looking up at me like she knew how crazy it drove me. "I'll be waiting," she shouted over the sound of Jules' thunder. "Downstairs."
My heart stood still. Grabbing her hands, I kissed them both before rushing back onstage. Lifting my chin to Jules, I held up one finger, signaling that this was our last one.
Jules segued his solo perfectly into the thundering intro to Spiraling Wings, a crowd favorite that we'd often closed with back in the days of Wrecked. Hudson's new growl replaced Jane's old banshee wail, giving it a completely new sound that had the crowd enthralled, but all I could think of was CeCe there in the green room. Four days apart hadn't dampened my need for her. If anything, that quick embrace was like trying to plug a dam leak with your finger. There was no way I could hold it back any longer.
In all the years I'd been playing, I'd never once thought of pulling a runner - making a dive for the limos before the audience realized we weren't playing an encore - but tonight was different. Tonight, everything was different and it was only the fact that I was a goddamn, fucking professional that kept me there until the bitter end.
When Hudson finally hit that last, sustained note, I slammed my guitar down, letting the feedback wash out. The crowd was an undulating, pogoing maelstrom and Hudson was basking in his first taste of glory, raising his hands to the sky with a bellowed, "Yeah! Fuck yeah!"
No one was looking at me.
And that was exactly how I wanted it.
I lifted my chin at Jules, who raised a sardonic eyebrow and rolled his eyes. I raised a discreet two-fingered salute and then dashed off the stage.
At that moment Jules and Niall, fucking assholes that they were, kicked into a drum and bass jam onstage that sounded just like the soundtrack to a seventies porno film. I laughed out loud as I clamored down the stairs, the muffled "bow chicka wow wow" following me as I sprinted down the subterranean hallway.
She must have heard my footsteps because the door to the green room suddenly flew open. "Ewan?" CeCe called from inside.
"Celia," I exhaled, tripping to a halt. And then time itself seemed to slow down so that I could take in every tiny little motion, every halting little step. I could see her eyes glinting, shining with either happiness or tears I wasn't sure. I could see the way her hand fluttered at her side like she wanted to reach for me but wasn't sure how I'd respond. I could see the way her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips in anticipation of the kiss I ached to give her. I saw all of these things and fucking memorized them, etching them in stone in my memory to hold on to forever. "Come here, lass," I begged.
She stepped out into the hallway, suddenly shy. Peering up at me, she bit her lip again and then looked down at the ground. "I got scared," she finally sighed in a soft whisper.
In two steps I was in front of her, tipping her chin up to peer into those soft brown eyes. "Aye lass, I know," I said. "But tell me, are you scared now?"
Her eyes flicked up and across my face. I held still as she peered at me and I got the sense that she was seeing me, really fucking seeing me, for the very first time. "Ewan," she finally breathed....
And I was fucking gone.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Celia
My hands were in his hair already and the second I felt the slide of his tongue against mine, I was a woman possessed. Wild with need, I yanked him down to press the length of my body against his, needing to feel every inch of his skin against mine. His fingers were already delving under the skirt I'd chosen for this occasion and when his thick fingers brushed across the soaked fabric of my panties, I gasped out a sudden "Ah!" against his lips.
"Such a greedy lass," he rasped against my throat, lifting me up and spinning me around so that I landed on my back on the tattered green room sofa. I arched up to him, and his quiet, desperate moan of appreciation rattled through me like the bassline of his music. "Is this why you came here tonight?"
"I came," I hiccuped. "For you."
His slow grin was like the sun peeking out from behind a storm cloud. "I'm glad, lass," he murmured, bending to lick and suck at my neck. "I'm glad you knew I'd be here."
Somehow I knew he meant more than here at this show tonight. I knew that he was talking about being here.
For me.
All I had to do was come to him when I was ready.
I was fucking ready.
He leaned down, crushing himself against me, and I yelped to feel the hard press of his cock between my legs. He groaned again, breathing heavily. "I can't take the time I want," he rasped into my neck. "Not the way I like it to be for you, lass."
"We'll have time," I told him, squirming down to yank at the waistband of his jeans. His skin was still coated in a fine sheen of salt from the hot stage lights and I flicked my tongue out taste it on his collarbone. "The next time."
He pulled back. "Aye," he breathed. "Next time we go fucking slow." He ground himself against me making me gasp. "But now?"
"Now you fuck me," I begged.
He knelt up, reaching into his back pocket and I almost wept with relief when he pulled a condom from his wallet. I reached out, grabbing for it, ready to put it on myself, but he was one step ahead of me, already shoving his pants down his hips. I wiggled, lifting my hips to him, and his fingers fumbled under my skirt, not even bothering to take my panties off, only shoving them aside. "So wet," he murmured, and then slipped himself inside of me.
The whole sudden length of him filling me up made me gasp. "Come here," he growled, pulling me up to straddle him. "I want to hold you," he said as I wrapped my legs around his waist. "Kiss me."
My lips found his, already parted and ready for me and our tongues melded together as I started to move. "Aye," he said, supporting my hips as I bounced on top of him, riding and rolling and grinding. "Aye lass, take it, let me feel it. Fucking hell CeCe, come for me lass because I'm not going to last if you keep doing that. Sing for me, let me hear it now. I feel you so close, now come for me, love. I want to feel you come while I'm inside of you. Ah, shit, I'm so deep, you feel that?"
I felt it. I felt every inch of him, so hard and insistent, inside of me. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, driving me down, impaling me on that thickness and with each punishing thrust my yelps grew louder until suddenly my whole body was clutching him, squeezing him, yes yes yes. He groaned and then shouted my name as he came with a roar, and then he was kissing me, hard and wet and messy and it was too fast but it was also perfect because he'd given me what I needed tonight and that was everything he had.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway made us both stiffen. "Shit," he laughed, pulling himself free. I fell back on the couch with a noise somewhere between a sigh and a giggle and he heard it and laughed too. "Oi! Wait a bloody minute you bunch of perverts!" he shouted at the door to a round of raucous laughter from the other side. Then he looked down at me, suddenly serious. "Next time we take it slow, yeah?"
I blinked up at him. "Yeah," I nodded, leaning up to kiss him. "Next time."
He nodded, licking his lips. "And the time after that?"
I felt the corner of my mouth tug upward. "Aye," I said, mimicking him. "And the time after that and after that too."
"Good," he said, then leaned in to brush a kiss across my face just as the sound of the door slamming open deafened us both. But in that moment I swear I felt his lips form the shape of "I love you," against my forehead.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Celia
I floated into work in a cloud of unreality, still reeling from last night. My face ached from smiling, but I couldn't seem to stop myself because every time I thought of Ewan, I smiled again.
And I couldn't stop thinking about him if I tried.
Had he said I love you? I hadn't heard it, but I swore I felt it, and even though those words should have frightened me coming from a rockstar, coming from Ewan they just felt....
Right.
I made my way to my desk on autopilot and set about putting away my things. Tonight would be Wreckage's second show at the Sound Garden and I was already there in my head, letting the music wash over me at the beginning of the night before letting Ewan wash over me at the end. And maybe, just maybe I'd ask him what he'd said. I knew if I asked him, he'd tell me the truth.
With a smile, I tapped my desk calendar. And what was even better was that tomorrow was Saturday and it was wide open. Ewan and I could spend the whole day together. Maybe he'd come by my place and we could order Chinese from the restaurant I could see from my bathroom and feed it to each other for sustenance before falling back into bed for another round.
The thought filled me with such dreamy anticipation that I didn't realize there were other people here until a voice snapped me out of my fog.
"Good morning!" I sang out when I realized one of the PR assistants had greeted me while I was busy grinning like a fool.
"Hey there," she said with a toothy grin. She leaned over my cubicle, hovering. "I don't believe I've introduced myself. I'm Angie Harmon." I nodded and opened my mouth to answer her, but she shook her head. "Oh no, I know who you are, Celia Silver."
My overheated blood suddenly ran cold. "That's not my name," I faltered.
She sniffed at my obvious lie then tossed her head in the direction of Matt's cubicle, where an unusual knot of people was gathered. "I take it you haven't been online yet today?" she asked.
I looked at my still-booting-up computer like it had the answers. My heart was hammering so loudly in my ears that I almost couldn't hear myself. "No," I breathed.
She shrugged, her smile almost, but not quite sympathetic. "I'd figure a rich bitch like you would know to be more careful in public. Everyone has cameras these days."
Before I could demand to know what the fuck she was talking about, she stalked away, muttering something about some of us having to work for a living.
I pushed my chair back from my desk and made to stomp over to Matt's. But after that first determined step, my resolve wavered and I ground to a halt there in the middle of the aisle. I wanted to rush over there and demand to know what the hell they were all giggling and gaping at, but my feet seemed rooted to the spot.
"Excuse me?" Angie called, coming back in my direction with a stack of papers in her hand. "You can't just stand in the middle of the aisle like that. You're in the way."
"Sorry," I muttered, stepping to the side. My legs felt like they were made of lead. Over at Matt's desk, a new crowd was gathering and I felt, rather than saw them glancing in my direction. Staring at me. Whispering.
"What I can't figure out?" Angie mused, still standing there with her stack of papers. "Is why you had to sleep with someone to get a band signed if your daddy got you this job in the first place. That seems like it should be unnecessary, but what do I know? I didn't grow up rich. I've had to work for everything I've got."
"So do I," I said faintly.
"Whatever," Angie said with an audible eye roll. "Bitch."
"Hey," I said, rousing a little and turning on her. "Before you knew who my dad was, did you think these things about me?"
She rolled her eyes. "Before I knew who your dad was, I didn't give a single shit about you," she taunted. "That's the only reason anyone cares. Believe me."
She stalked off, but my frozen blood was already heating up.
"Matt!" I shouted.
He poked his head up from his cubicle. "Hey there Record Heiress," he said smugly. "Have you had your fill of canoodling yet?"
"What?" I shouted. Ignoring the sounds of tittering laughter, I shoved my way through the tightly clustered knot around his desk until I was standing right over his shoulder. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
He shrugged and tapped his screen and my heart plummeted down to my shoes.
Someone must have caught us that morning when I was leaving Ewan's place. His hand was on my arm, pulling me to him and my face was lifted to his like I was leaning in for a kiss. Record Heiress Caught Canoodling with Controversial Rocker screamed the headline.
"How the fuck did you find this?" I hissed, staring at the picture.
"He has a working internet," came the retort from behind me. It was followed by a series of snorted giggles, but I didn't turn to see who was laughing at me. I glared at Matt who
was watching me with the smuggest look of triumph on his face.
"Why are you doing this?" I demanded.
He shrugged. "I didn't do a damn thing," he said, turning back to the computer like I wasn't even there. "But more to the point, neither have you."
"What do you mean?"
He shrugged again. "Your daddy handed you a job you weren't qualified for so you had to spread your legs to get somebody signed." He leaned back and looked me in the eye.
I blinked hard to keep the threatening tears from falling. I'd be damned if I let this asshole see me cry. "Haven't you seen me at the meetings?" I asked, my voice rising. "Haven't you noticed me working late every night? I've been working my ass off for this department."
"Oh, whatever, what do you want a gold star? A participation trophy or something? Maybe your daddy will buy you a pony for being such a good girl."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why do you hate me so much?"
"I don't hate you," he said dismissively. "I'm not even jealous or whatever you want to tell yourself. I just don't think it's fair that you got to waltz in here and think you can do our jobs better than we can just because of your last name." He leaned back. "Hell, maybe I am a little jealous. I wish I knew it was like not to have to work for anything."
I turned my head to wipe away the traitorous tears. "I do work," I protested weakly. "I've worked for everything." The gathered crowd was either bored or embarrassed for me now that I was openly crying and wandered away, still milling together in tight clumps with their eyes on me.
"Keep telling yourself that," Matt said. "In the meantime, I've got shit I need to do." And with that, he wiggled his mouse to wake up the screensaver and once again I saw the piece of tabloid gossip and the image of what I was to all of them. My worst fears come true. Heiress. Canoodler. Rich Bitch who needed her Daddy's name to even be worth noticing at all. That's who I was and I was a fool to think I could ever prove myself otherwise.
