Founded on Goodbye by Kat Singleton
“Thank you, Nashville!” I shout, pushing wet strands of hair out of my face. My white T -shirt is completely plastered to my body. The soaked, white sleeves doing nothing to hide the string of tattoos going up both my arms.
The crowd erupts in cheers. There are screams and yelling coming from every direction. The show is coming to a close, the rain beating down on us for the duration of it.
In front of me I see thousands of drenched fans, all with smiles on their faces as they chant for an encore. Soggy poster boards wave in the air, the words bleeding down the boards from the rain. Through the chants and the cheers, one word starts to become more and more pronounced.
A smile tugs at my lips when their cheers clearly make out her name.
“Nora! Nora! Nora!”
Their screams are relentless, and after taking in what it feels like to hear them say her name, I throw them a bone. Walking down the catwalk, I pull out both of my earpieces.
“Do you guys want Nora for an encore?” I tease, knowing exactly what they want. An encore of Preach. It isn’t my normal encore song, the slow tempo not typically how I like to end a show, but these fans have really stuck it out in this weather. Who am I to deprive them of what they want?
“Preach!” they scream.
I make eye contact with some of the fans in the pit, their hair sticking wet to their faces as their hands thrash in the air with excitement. They’re wearing merch from different phases of my life—clearly dedicated fans.
“Let me see what I can do,” I hint, my voice lowering. I turn toward my band. “What do you guys say? Should we end the night with Preach?”
Troy answers immediately, hammering his drum set as a clear yes. Poe and Luke both nod in agreement. Landon is the last to respond, sliding his hand down the keyboard and giving me a thumbs up.
Turning from the band, I look back toward the audience. “We’re getting warmer,” I tell them, placing only one of my earpieces back in my ear. “Can somebody bring me my acoustic? And a headset?” I ask over the mic, knowing somebody from the stage crew will oblige.
Moments later, a tech runs out the guitar I use for Preach. Handing him the one I often use for the closing of the show, we trade. A sound engineer rushes out, hot on the heels of the stage tech. I let him fiddle with a headset for me while I continue to interact with the crowd.
Their cheers get even louder, Nora’s name still clear as day.
Putting the guitar strap over my shoulder, I look down to make sure the guitar is tuned for this song. Slowly making my way back to where I left my mic stand, I address the crowd once again. “Even warmer,” I say with a laugh, their screams almost shaking the stage.
“Oh yeah, could someone send Nora back out, please?” I add as an afterthought.
We’ve never performed Preach as an encore, so I know this is something completely unexpected for everyone involved. Nora just exited the stage, so I know she won’t be in her typical costume for Preach, but I also want to give the fans what they want. A reward for sticking with us through the rain.
The public has only gotten more and more fascinated with Nora since we were first spotted together at the festival. We’ve had the occasional paparazzi steal photos of us on the outings we’ve been on since that night, only fueling the fire into the public’s want to get to know her more. I haven’t been seen with a woman this much since Taylor, and it’s clearly piquing the interest of my fans. That fact is only made even more obvious as the stadium erupts into deafening cheers around me.
Turning toward left stage, I find Nora making her way out. She gives the crowd a wave, making them yell her name even louder.
As she makes her way toward me, I look out toward the crowd. “I don’t know if you guys are here to see me or her at this point. It hasn’t been this loud all night.”
Everyone goes wild. “We love you Nash!” is heard, separating from the rest of the cheers.
Nora makes her way toward me at centerstage. “What is going on?” she says to me over the crowd so only I can hear.
Leaning away from the microphone, I put my lips close to her ear. “We’re giving the crowd what they want.” I pull her into the crook of my arm, her soaking wet body molding to my own.
“You’ll have to forgive us,” I say to the crowd. “We weren’t prepared to perform this as the encore. You better like it. Right, Nora?”
Standing on her tiptoes, she leans toward my mic. “Oh, I’m sure they’ll like it.”
The audience eats out of the palm of her hand, going completely insane.
“Let’s get to it then.”
Nora takes her place behind me, giving my thigh a squeeze before we begin.
The energy from the crowd for the duration of the song is unbelievable. Everyone on stage gives this last song their all. Nora improvises some, allowing me to perform from further down on the catwalk, closer to my fans. She doesn’t miss a beat, giving the crowd exactly what they want.
The music fades, barely audible with the deafening roar of the fans. Moving my guitar to my back, I take Nora’s hand in mine. Both of our chests are heaving, the amount of energy we just exerted causing us to be short of breath.
“One last round of applause for my girl,” I catch myself quickly, “my girl, Nora.” Lifting her hand in the air, I pull on it until she lands a few steps ahead of me. The crowd eats it up, screaming in excitement for her.
She attempts to push her sopping wet hair out of her face, some strands still plastered to her forehead despite her best efforts. The hand that’s not wrapped in mine comes to rest on her chest. Her mouth muttering a “thank you” to the crowd before us.
“And another round for the kickass guys behind me.” Hitching a thumb over my shoulder, I step aside to give the crowd a view of the band and backup vocalists behind me. The fans give them a booming standing ovation.
Closing the distance between me and Nora once again, I pull her to my chest, embracing her in front of everyone here. “You killed that, Rose,” I say into her ear. Unable to help myself, I place a kiss on her damp forehead. Her skin is cold from the rain, despite her cheeks being flushed from the dancing.
Facing the crowd one last time, Nora now tucked into my side, I tell them goodnight, giving a bow before escorting Nora off the stage as the lights go black.
Her hand splays against my chest as she beams up at me. “Holy shit, that was amazing.” The look on her face stops me in my tracks.
We’re standing just out of view from the concert goers. People bustle around us, all trying to get my attention, but I can’t look anywhere but at her. The look of wonder on her face is something I never want to forget. In this moment she’s doing exactly what she promised she’d do—she’s making me fall in love with music again. Because there’s no way I can’t possibly love something that brings that much joy to her face.
Ignoring every single person trying to steal my attention from her, I tug on her hand, ignoring Tyson when he shouts my name for the third time.
Nora asks where we’re going, but I don’t even have the patience to stop and answer her. The only thing on my mind right now is getting her alone. I want to bask in the astonishment radiating off her in this moment, and I’m not willing to share it with another god damn soul.
We rush past what feels like a million people, and it isn’t until we reach a dark hallway backstage that we aren’t surrounded by others for the first time since the show ended.
“Nash?” she demands, her short legs trying to keep up with my stride.
Stopping without warning, I close the distance between us, pinning her up against the nearest door. Our bodies meet from chest to thigh, our body heat warming the other. “That was the best show of my fucking life,” I exclaim, nipping at her jaw.
Her hands find the back pockets of my jeans, her fingers digging into my lower back. “Really?” she asks breathlessly as my lips wander over her collarbone.
“By fucking far,” I admit. The atmosphere from the crowd, the rain, seeing how immersed she was in performing, her enjoyment at the end, this is the high I’ve desperately been chasing. The fame, the money, the girls…none of it has come close to the feeling after being on stage with Nora, seeing her love this world as much as I used to.
“Why can’t every show be a rain show?” she asks.
I laugh at her question, my hand coming to rest on the back of her neck. “Then they wouldn’t feel so damn amazing.”
Stealing her next words from her lips, I crash against her. Our hands grab at whatever we can. My hands are in her hair, on her hips, fisting her shirt. I can’t get her close enough, wishing our soaking wet clothes were littered on the floor.
“Let’s go,” I say, pulling away from her to catch my breath. Looking at her, I find her chest heaving up and down, the outline of each of her nipples through her shirt, sending my head into a tailspin.
As soon as she nods, taking my outstretched hand, I’m pulling us down the hallway like my ass is on fire.
Walking quickly, I guide us down the hallway and out a side door, forgetting about the pouring rain outside.
We both pause, staring out at the waterfall of rain before us. Shrugging, she says, “It’s not like we aren’t already soaked.” Without warning, she takes off. She runs out into the pouring rain as if it’s nothing, tugging on my hand to bring me with her.
We run around the side of the stadium, dodging golf carts and crew members hiding underneath umbrellas. Neither of us spare them a second glance, both too focused on what will happen when we’re alone again.
Taking the lead, I guide us in the direction of the buses. We weave in and out of them, heading for my hopefully empty one. Nora laughs behind me as the rain pelts against us. After what seems like an eternity, we make it to my bus, and I’m so fucking thankful that no one is in it.
Opening the door, I pull her up the narrow stairway, making sure to lock the door behind us.
As soon as we make it inside, our bodies are pressed together once again. We kiss like we’re running out of time, like someone could stop us at any moment. When her lips crash against mine, I coax hers open. My tongue meets hers, savoring the sweet taste of her. Time flies by as our hands explore each other.
Deciding I need more, I fist her wet hair, pulling her head back until she’s looking at me. “I need you, Rose,” I plead, tightening my hold on her hair while running the tip of my nose across her jaw.
“Ask for nicely,” she says, gasping when I suck on her neck, no doubt leaving a mark—marking what’s mine, at least for the moment.
“We’ve discussed this before,” I tell her, adjusting myself in my jeans. “I don’t typically have to ask, let alone nicely.”
Stepping away from her, I back up until one hip rests against the small kitchenette counter.
A punishing smile lights up her face. She backs up until she hits the couch behind her. Taunting me, her small hand pushes her wet hair off her shoulder. It makes an achingly slow descent from the hollow of her throat, over her breasts. Her nipples are at full attention through the wet fabric of her shirt and bra. Continuing the path, her hand folds the fabric of her shirt in her hand, pulling it up to expose skin.
Time seems to stand still as I wait for her next move. I’m hard as a fucking rock, not expecting this side of her. Her eyes shine bright with defiance. Water is dripping off both our bodies, hitting the floor beneath our feet. The only sound to be heard is the rain against the bus and our racing breaths.
Her eyes stay fixated on mine while her hands start to pull at the sheer fabric of her shirt. Unabashedly, she lifts the shirt up and over her head, letting it fall to the ground with a plop. The sight of her standing in front of me in a black bra made of lace, makes me take a heaving breath in. Her stomach pulls in as I don’t hide the way my eyes devour every exposed inch of her.
“I’m yours. All you have to do is ask for me, Nash.”
Stuck in a battle of wits, I begin to lose my will to win when she reaches behind her, unclasping the bra in one easy swoop. Torturing me to no end, she keeps her hand draped over the cups of the bra, not exposing herself just yet. Her hips sway in a perfect rhythm, the straps of her bra falling from her shoulders with the movement.
I can’t hide the tent of my jeans when her eyes fall to my obvious erection. I’m sticking to my guns, wanting her to admit she wants this just as bad as I do, when she does something that makes me lose my grip on the small amount of restraint I still had.
The bra drops to the floor as she licks her lips, her gaze still pinned on my dick. Losing the battle with my self-control, I fly across the room before I can even get a good look at her chest.
“For you I’ll fucking beg,” I exhale, claiming her mouth.
She’s wrapped in my arms in the span of a single breath. Lifting her up, I support her body with one arm as the other reaches between us to caress the side of her exposed breast. As my hand palms her, I walk us all the way down the bus until I’m kicking open the door to my small bedroom.
A giggle escapes her lips as she lands on my bed with a soft thud. I cover her body with mine shortly after, marveling at all her exposed skin in view. I run a finger over the side of her ribcage, entranced with her milky white skin.
“We’re going to get your bed all wet,” she notes, her back arching as I take one of her peaked nipples in my mouth.
“Does it look like I give a damn?” I say, switching to the other side. My tongue works over the mound, a loud moan filling the silence when I nip at the soft flesh. Her wet hair fans out around her face, no doubt soaking through the comforter.
“Guess not,” she says through an exhale, her hands pulling at my shirt. The air is warm against my chest as she pulls the shirt off, discarding it somewhere behind me.
The moonlight reflects in her eyes as they bounce over the tattoos that line my chest and abdomen.
Her finger traces a quote running down my ribcage. “I want to know the story of every one of these.”
“Oh, Rose.” I sigh, suddenly embarrassed by most of the stories behind my tattoos. “Half of these I got while drunk or high. I couldn’t tell you about the meaning behind them.” Trying to distract her, I start to move further down her body, licking each nipple before starting a wet trail down her stomach.
“Then tell me about the meaningful ones.” Her hands grab at my hair as I bite the skin above her waistband.
As I peel off what little wet clothes she’s got left from the waist down, I look up, not wanting to think about anything but this very moment. “Maybe one day.” She stops questioning me long enough to discard what fabric was left. I take a step back, committing the sight of her completely naked and sprawled out on my bed to memory.
Pushing up on her elbows, she stares at me intently. “What if we don’t have the luxury of maybe one day? What if we only have today?”
I find her question odd, but I’m over the talking. I want her mouth on mine and me buried inside her, the ache of her teasing me for weeks finally catching up to me. “Then let’s not waste another fucking second of it with our bodies not connected in every damn possible way.” Grabbing her by the ankle, I pull her across the bed until she’s at the edge of it. Her eyes are wide, assessing my next move.
Dropping to my knees, I line my face up with her core. In an instant, my mouth is on her, greedily tasting the most intimate part of her. She pants and moans, her body writhing with pleasure.
“I’m so close,” she pants minutes later, trying to pull me away from her by my hair. Her attempt is futile, only making me work her harder, sticking a finger inside her to join my tongue.
“Nash,” she yelps, her body trying to scoot away from my mouth.
Pinning her down, I lap at her until she climaxes, my name falling from her mouth over and over.
I kiss my way up her body as she comes down from the orgasm. I’m caressing the spot behind her ear with my tongue when she gets up.
“My turn,” she instructs, pushing me down onto the bed. Her small hand stays firm against my chest, making sure I don’t try to move. There’s a look of determination on her face when she begins to slide down my body, her hand hesitantly leaving my chest when she realizes I’m not trying to stop this.
Her tongue runs over her lips as she deftly undoes my fly, not hesitating to pull down both my jeans and briefs.
She doesn’t waste any time pulling my dick free, and it stands at perfect attention for her. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I wasn’t ready for her eager lips to be on me in the next breath, her tongue swirling around the tip before taking as much of me in her throat as she can.
My fingers thread through the wet strands of her hair, guiding her head gently. She takes me deeper, causing me to throw my head back in pleasure.
With each work of her tongue, along with the look of determination on her face, I get a little more lost in the euphoria.
I’m falling, afraid the second our bodies become one that it’ll be over for me. That somehow, despite all my best efforts, she will hold my jet-black heart in her hands. I’ve gotten to know her heart at an intimate level, and now that our bodies are about to get as intimate as two humans can get, I’m worried about what will happen when reality catches up with us.
She’s too sweet for me. I’m too jaded for her. But damn will I enjoy her while I can.
Nora asked what would happen if we didn’t get a one day, and I couldn’t give her a straight answer. What I do know, is that I’m going to drown myself in all the todays I have left with her.