I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting to remain calm.
Callie leans into me, and I pull her close, partly for comfort, but mostly so she doesn’t see my anxious gaze continually darting toward the door.
What if Sweeny can’t find him?
I know for a fact, if he decided not to go through with it, Luke isn’t here anymore. He would have run back to the suite to avoid the pain of the fallout.
Shuffling at the door draws our attention, and I inhale sharply as it opens.
Sweeny moves inside.
Alone.
Disappointment chokes my lungs. More than that—Frustration. Anger. Betrayal.
I release Callie, ready to storm back to the hotel on foot, when another body blocks the door.
I stop cold as Luke’s gaze collides with mine.
The corner of his mouth turns up in a small smile. “Sorry I’m late. Had to finish my warmups.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“You got this, dude,” I say, holding out my fist to Luke.
He bumps it with a weak smile and returns to adjusting his headphones.
I back out of the vocal booth and close the door.
It feels wrong leaving him alone in there, yet right at the same time. I can’t explain it, but maybe it’s fitting he takes this huge step on his own.
The poetry of what’s happening settles in my chest as I return to the control room. An actual poet like Callie must be feeling it too.
I know she is when I come up beside her. She’s squirming with barely filtered excitement as I pull her back to my front. She tips an excited smile up at me, and I plant a kiss on her cheek beforeletting her go.
She turns back to the window, and I shove my trembling hands into my pockets.
Once Luke and Jon are happy with the levels, Jon cues up the track.
The energy settling over the room is electric.
“Can we do a full take?” Luke asks from the distant vocal booth. “We can punch in later, but I’d like to go all the way through from intro to outro first.”
I hear the tension in his voice, the part he’s not saying. It’s been too long since he did this. He wants to do a full take to make sure he evencan.
A twinge moves through my chest and I want to jump through the walls to stand by his side. As if sensing my concern, Callie squeezes my forearm.
I force in a steadying breath.
The click counts in. My faint piano intro pings through the room, joined by a short percussion sample. Sweeny’s lead guitar cuts in next and… bam.
Grins spread around the room when the guitars, bass, and drums explode into the room in a ghostly tribute to former glory. I sense the excitement. The appreciation.
All that’s missing to claim it back is an iconic voice.
No one moves as we approach the verse. I doubt anyone even breathes.
This is it. The moment that will make or break everything.