Rhythm by Marie Lipscomb
Chapter Nineteen
Beth
If she’d had weeks to prepare, she still wouldn’t have been ready. He strides out, confident, dominating the stage with his size and that cocky smirk playing across his perfect lips. If anything, he looks even better than she remembered, his black tank-top fitted tight against his broad frame, his kohl-lined eyes intense beneath the stage lights. He raises his tattooed arms toward the audience, and they erupt into adoring cheers.
Her stomach tightens. The back of her neck tingles, as though his teeth still graze against her skin.
“Fuck.”
“See?” Sadie smiles as she yells over the roar of the crowd. “He’s just a guy.”
Beth sucks in a breath, grateful for the dim light over the audience, grateful that he’s in the spotlight, dazzled, and can’t see her. The venue shrinks, the crowd fades, and it’s just her and him.
It’s the first time she’s seen him fully since the moment he left her, and every flicker and fading sensation of confusion, anger, longing, and attraction topples onto her, freezing her in place. He steps up onto a raised platform and approaches his drums, sits behind the kit and begins to play. Her heart pounds along with the rapid rhythm he sets.
This was a terrible idea.
She raises her plastic cup to her lips and takes a deep gulp of sour wine. The rest of the band charge out, and launch into their setlist. For all the complicated emotions swirling around her head, she has to admit they sound amazing.
She drinks as they play, the wine clouding her tumultuous thoughts as the band hurtle from one song to the next. The audience lap up the show, howling with fervent glee at the start of each new song, singing every word with enraptured passion.
“Mia’s incredible,” Sadie gushes in the momentary lull between songs. They have to basically scream down each other’s ears to be heard.
Beth nods and takes a drink, draining the bottom inch of her cup. “I’m going to get another, you want one?”
Sadie shakes her head and turns her attention back to the stage.
The journey to the bar is a battle in itself. People stand, entranced, singing and pounding the air with their fists, a near impenetrable barrier. But she picks her way through, no doubt making several enemies along the way. At last, she’s able to rest her elbows on the brightly lit bar.
The bartender raises his eyebrows and leans close.
“Red wine,” she bellows above the music and hands him a twenty.
He glances at the blue armband around her wrist, nods and turns his back, taking a red plastic cup from a stack in the corner.
She glances over her shoulder at the stage. Finn is completely obscured now, concealed behind the enormous drum kit, and the swirling clouds of dry ice.
The events of that night in the cabin play over and over in her mind. There was so much passion. The heat between them was blistering, burning too hot, too fast. She trusted him, let him see her completely, both physically and emotionally. He let her believe it meant something, and cast her aside the next morning.
“Bastard,” she mutters. “Irritatingly handsome bastard.”
The bartender brings over her cup, and disappears. Either the wine costs twenty dollars a cup, or he’s kept her change as a tip.
Deflated, she stands to the side and drinks the crappy-but-apparently-expensive wine, and contemplates fighting back through the crowd toward Sadie.
Finn
Adrenaline courses through his body, powered by the audience.
This is it. This is one of the shows that will define them.
The excitement gushing through his veins drives him through each song. Sweat drips down his body, the muscles in his arms and legs throb, but he keeps going.
By the time they reach the end of the setlist, he feels as though he only just got started. He sips from a bottle of water, while Mia keeps the crowd warm.
“You’ve been incredible tonight, my dearest mortals,” Mia calls out to the audience, fully playing up to her fans’ playful suspicion that she’s an ancient vampire queen. “We’re so happy to be home with you beautiful children of night.”
He smiles, twirling the sticks between his fingers as he waits for the encore. If this is what his life amounts to, he’ll be happy. He may have misfired when it came to Beth, may have given his heart foolishly to someone who saw no value in it, but he’s happy. A smile pulls at his lips, and as he looks out to the audience. The lights shining on the stage make it hard to see, but the front few rows are hanging on Mia’s every word. The emotion of it all overwhelms him. His vision blurs and his eyes begin to sting.
“So, a couple of weeks ago,” Mia says as she paces the stage. “Finn, our darling drummer, came to me with a song...”
His pulse races as the audience cheer at the mention of his name. This isn’t what they’d planned. Cacoffiny should be their encore.
“This song is rough, and we haven’t quite got it all figured out yet, but you’ve been so good to us, and we love you, so we’re going to play it for you tonight.”
“It’s not ready,” he whispers, blood draining from his face as the audience erupts into an excited roar.
His head spins as Mia holds out her hand, beckoning him to come out from behind his drum kit, and Anya holds out her guitar for him to take. The crowd is so excited. He can’t let them down. His legs tremble as he makes his way to the center of the stage, and stands beside Mia.
She smiles kindly, as though she knows how fast his heart is beating. “It’s okay. It’s a great song. They’ll love it.”
His fingers tremble as he puts the guitar strap over his shoulder, extending it fully to fit his frame. The heat from the stage lights blazes against his skin. He shields his eyes from the glare and waves to the audience.
Mia grins and puts the microphone to her lips. “So, you all know Finn’s not great with titles.” She flashes him a glance from the corner of her eye as the audience cheers. “This song is temporarily called B.B.”