Cole put a hand to his earpiece, confusion flashing over his face. It was enough that I knew he was hearing me, that the sound tech was feeding my audio through to him.
“It burns and it burns and it burns,” Cole sang. But he was distracted. He looked around madly. A spotlight landed on me from high above, like a spacecraft beaming me up. Through the bright white haze of the light, I saw Cole look up.
“Toby?”
The crowd exploded. I held my arm out towards Cole, reaching for him.
Cole pointed. He laughed. He fell to his knees. “Toby!”
The strings of the orchestra and the angelic voices of the choir soared, and Cole Kennedy burst into tears. I dashed out of my row, down the stairs, and out of the gate into the standing-room-only area—the spotlight following my every move. The Kenneddicts parted for me as I ran across the field. They were screaming my name, wishing me good luck, slapping me on the back. Cole got to his feet and started singing the second verse. He couldn’t take his eyes off me, nor I off him. His arms were outstretched towards me, tears streaming down his face as he sang. The choir took over the harmonies, and I ran faster. Behind the crush barriers, the massive imposing edifice of Mitch guarded the stage. I barely had time to notice Mitch’s cheeks were wet before he picked me up like a rag doll and deposited me on the stage. When the chorus hit, I was centre stage at Wembley Stadium, standing in front of the man of my dreams, the man I had loved since I was sixteen years old, singing to him, singingwithhim, singing a love song he’d written for me. And an orchestra and a choir and ninety thousand Kenneddicts joined in.
As we sang, I understood, as I’d never truly understood before, why this was a song about hope. I wassofull of hope. Cole squeezed my hands as we sang. The choir and the orchestra built an earth-shaking crescendo. The sound was visceral, it felt like my body had become the music, and as the final notes played out, as our shoulders shook with grief and relief and love, Cole threw his arms around me, and the fireworks exploded around us. A stadium full of Kenneddicts went absolutely nuts. Cole buried his face in my neck, kissing me. I breathed in the familiar smell of him, the cinnamon and the citrus and the sweat. I tasted the saltiness of him on my lips and gripped him tight in my arms. It was a promise that I would never let him go again.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I love you. I love you so much. I’ve always loved you.”
“I know, baby,” Cole said. “I know. And I love you too.”
Then Cole’s lips found mine and we kissed, and the stadium erupted into chaos. Flames burst out of the stage and soared into the night sky above. And when it had all died down, I stood onstage in Cole Kennedy’s arms, and from the orchestra, a piano started to tinkle the opening bars of the Beatles’ “Here Comes the Sun.”
“The Flame” goes to number one!
A year after it was released, Cole Kennedy’s “The Flame” has hit number one on the U.K. charts, knocking off the Go Tos’ “Sweet Cherry Cola” after a three-week run at the top.
The track rocketed up the charts this week after a video of Kennedy singing the song live onstage at Wembley Stadium with on-again-off-again boyfriend radio DJ Tobias Lyngstad went viral on social media…
ChapterForty-Six
Iwoke to huffing and snorting and opened one eye.
“Good morning, Genevieve,” I said, reaching a hand up to scratch under her chin. The air was cold against my skin, and the breeze was making the curtains billow. I snuggled deeper under the quilts.
“You’re up,” Cole said, padding in from the kitchen wearing nothing but underpants, a mug of steaming-hot tea in each hand. He bent over to kiss me and deposited my tea on the bedside table. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Are you talking to me or Genevieve?”
Cole laughed. “Both?” He threw a leg over me, straddling me, and reached over to put his tea down on his side of the bed. “OK, girl, time to go. I’ll see you this afternoon.” Genevieve huffed and kicked her head back. “Good girl.” Cole edged forward up the bed to close the windows, his crotch resting on my chin. My arms were trapped under the blankets, but I felt playful, so I buried my face in his junk and showered it with kisses.
“No, don’t wake him up,” Cole said. “We have half an hour, at most, before the girls come running in here.” He shuffled back down the bed and leaned over me so I was pinned by his knees and his elbows. “They’ll have heard the chopper bring us in last night. They’ll be bugging Juney to come over by now.”
“We can achieve a lot in half an hour,” I said, winking mischievously.
Cole smiled and leaned back, releasing my arms from their quilt cocoon. He stretched out the lean muscles of his body, giving me a show.
“You want to touch this?” he said, with a cheeky grin.
“Please,” I said, putting my hands against his neatly clipped chest. I could feel his heart beating beneath my palm.
“It’s yours,” he said. “I amallyours.”
I ran my hands down his stomach to his waist and held his hips.
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
I reached up, threw my arm around his neck, and pulled him onto me. He kissed me softly.
“It’s funny, you know,” he said, lips against mine. “I spent all those years worrying that I didn’t belong anywhere, and all this time the place I belonged was right in front of me.”