by Hazel Jacobs
He hands Slate a card with a wink. Sersha reads it quickly: Black Orchid Escorts. She smothers a snort as Slate politely takes the card, though his smile is clearly forced. The roadie gives him one last wink before he heads for the door with a coil of wires around his shoulder.
Slate purses his lips and gives Sersha a look. “So… is a hooker better or worse than a groupie?”
“I mean, at least she would know that you’re not interested in a relationship?”
“I don’t know what’s worse,” Slate says, his voice full of mirth. “The fact that he thinks I need to pay for it, or the fact that he carries these cards around!”
“Well, you never know when escort services are going to be required.”
The two of them share a couple of minutes of giggling. When Logan calls that it’s time for the band to go on stage, Sersha sees Slate slip the card into his back pocket, which makes her think that perhaps he’s not as dismissive of hiring an escort as he’d seemed.
Tommy comes over to the couch to give Sersha a kiss before he goes on stage. “You’re gonna watch us, right?”
“Damn straight,” she says.
“Good,” he says. He dips down to kiss her again. “Everything okay with Slate? He seemed upset.”
“He needs a date for a wedding.”
“Oh, yeah… that thing in Iowa?” he says. “Do you think you could go with him?”
“I can’t,” she says, and she feels a warm shot of joy when she hears him suggest it. This is a man who’s not going to get jealous of her hanging out with his friends. It’s a good feeling to know that he trusts her, and them, so much. She wonders what happened to Logan to make him cling to Mikayla the way he does, but she figures that as long as Mikayla is fine with it, then it’s none of her business. “My mam’s birthday weekend.” She reaches up to run a hand over his cheek, which has the barest hint of stubble. “You want to come back home with me?”
He grins down at her. His fringe falls onto her head, creating a curtain around them to give them the illusion of privacy as the rest of the band moves toward the door. “I’d love to,” he says. “And you can come see my family with me on the weekend after?”
“Definitely.”
They head out to the stage. Sersha and Mikayla stand at the edge, behind the curtain, while Black Lilith high-fives Lost in Time and takes the stage in their place.
“Everyone, give it up for Lost in Time!” Logan says into the microphone as the girls leave the stage.
The audience goes off. The roadies take the time to rush onto the stage and give the band their instruments, tune up what needs tuning up, and get everything ready for Black Lilith to start their set.
“Now… ya’ll might have seen in the papers that there’s a new romance happening in our group,” Logan says.
Slate—who has already slid behind kit and whipped out his drumsticks—does a quick drumroll while Dash and Logan point at Tommy, who’s clearly blushing. The crowd screams. Sersha’s just glad that they’re not booing. She’s heard horror stories about women who dated rockstars. Bass Note hasn’t released any statements about her dating Tommy, but thanks to the paparazzi catching them coming off the plane together, Bass Note doesn’t have to. Sersha is as much a part of the band’s image now as Mikayla is.
It would have scared her a few months ago, but she can’t feel scared when Tommy smiles at her from across the stage, she can’t feel anything but excited.
“So, instead of starting this show with one of our songs, we’d like to play you guys a little something. It’s a song that reminds Tommy and me of the lovely ladies waiting for us side stage.” Mikayla is bright red next to Sersha, but Sersha’s sure that she’s looking just as red. Dash and Tommy switch over to acoustic versions of their instruments with the ease of well-practiced performers. “Don’t worry… we’ll start playing our own stuff right after. But first, Slate, count us in.”
“Those little shits,” Mikayla says. She’s got a smile on her face, but there’s an edge to it. “They planned this.”
“Naturally,” Sersha replies, feeling herself starting to bubble up with anticipation as she wonders what the song will be.
Slate counts in, and Dash only manages a couple of strummed chords before Logan’s smokey, rich voice floats into the microphone...
Hold on, little girl
Show me what he’s done to you
The crowd screams. Sersha screams right along with them because of course, it would be Mr. Big, the epitome of ridiculous hair and beautiful lyrics. Their songs were made for Logan’s voice, and as Tommy and Dash move into the music, strumming and playing off of each other with the raw acoustics doing nothing to mask any mistake they make, the band can show off their talent. Sersha sways along with the crowd and she finally understands why there are four microphones on the stage—with one craned over the drum kit so that Slate can sing as well—when they break in the chorus.
Mikayla’s blue eyes meet Sersha’s green ones. Mikayla is looking a bit teary-eyed as she listens to their men sing for them. Logan and Tommy are both turned slightly so that their bodies and lips are pointed at the side of the stage. Sersha grabs Mikayla by the wrist, ignoring her protests, and drags her onstage.
The crowd gets—if possible—louder as the two women run on stage. Sersha runs up to Tommy, shoving Mikayla toward Logan, and sidles up next to the bass player, leaning in so that she can share the microphone…
So come on baby come on over
Let me be the one to show you
In front of them, the crowd is on their feet. Sersha can finally see all of the chairs filled and it would be overwhelming if she didn’t have Tommy at her side. Their lips are close, and neither of them can wipe the grin off of them. Sersha looks into Tommy’s eyes, enjoying the warm look he’s giving her in front of the crowd, and even though neither of them is really a singer if doesn’t matter. Why would it matter? They’re together. That’s what counts.
They stand together for the rest of the song, singing like fools, and when the song is finished, Sersha kisses Tommy in front of thousands of people.
Thank you for reading All or Nothing.
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Hazel Jacobs is a passionate fan of romance novels and a crazy fan of rock and roll. Never trained as a writer, she began creative writing as a hobby. That quickly evolved into a mission to pen a novel that brings a new generation of readers into the wild realm of loud music and total passion.
