Page 80 of Reverb
In theory, he should’ve had his own bass, but part of the exchange was theatrics. Thankfully, he could play hers comfortably without adjusting the strap, making the switch easy. The techs had just about had a heart attack when they’d popped the idea on them. But they were rolling with it.
Mish strode up to Ray’s mic stand, claimed the microphone, and spoke. “Hey, Boston. How you all doing out there?”
God, she felt the response vibrate through her. “We figured since I’ve been singing on this tour, it’s only fair to give Ray a shot at bass. You think he’s up for it?”
More shouts. Ray bounced on his toes and gave a shrug. But his fingers picked out a few chords expertly—and the bass was still in tune.
Good. “Yeah, I think he is, too. So here we go.”
Zavier led into the song, and they were off. When the bass line came in, Mish’s head spun, even as her hands twitched—one on the mic and the other at her side—with the need to play. The notes weren’t hers. They didn’t sound like hers, which she’d expected but hadn’t been prepared for. She glanced over at Ray, and while he was moving with the beat, he was focused inward, his fingers flying like hers usually did.
A moment later, she was belting out lyrics, this time entirely by herself. Even when the chorus came around, Ray stayed off the mic. His grin was tremendous, though, and she sang a few words to him before leaping down the stage to serenade the left side of the pit, then back up. She waved out at everyone she couldn’t see through the stage lighting.
Domino took over with his guitar solo, playing near Ray, and god, that was amazing to see. Those two best friends, grinning like only the music existed and they were back in high school. Then Zavier’s drumming picked up and rolled over them all. Ray closed his eyes in ecstasy while Domino yelled and ran up onto Zav’s kit, hovered there for a moment before leaping off to the right side of the stage.
Mish put the mic up again and sang her soul out. When they finally struck the last chords of the song, the applause and screams went straight to her heart. Everything felt light and magical and her eyes misted.
She looked out over the crowd. “Thank you all! Do you think Ray did a good job?”
Of course, they approved. He’d played well. Maybe with less flourish than she did, but Ray was a fucking genius, so everything he touched turned to gold.
Ray strode up to her mic, the one she used to sing backup vocals, and winked at her. “Totally not as good as you play,” he said. “But I think you’re gonna give me a run for my money singing.” He turned to the audience. “What do you think? Should we write a song together?”
The fans reacted as if Ray had asked each and every one of them to marry him. The response was furious, and she felt the stage vibrating.
“Well, okay then!” His smile was a million dollars.
“I can’t fucking wait.” She said it to Ray more than the crowd, but it didn’t matter. They were all there. Zavier laughed and Dom pirouetted, which was pretty impressive for someone in the boots he wore. Mish set the mic back in its stand, then claimed her bass from Ray.
“You were incredible.” Unvarnished, open truth in his face. “Seriously. You could head your own band.”
“I don’t want to be anywhere but here with you guys.” She set the strap of her bass back on her shoulder. “You know that!”
Ray grinned. “We’re fucking lucky to have you.” He waved at the bass. “You make that sing as gloriously as you do.” With that, he turned and snagged a water bottle from the side of Zavier’s kit, then bounced up to his mic. She grabbed a bottle, too, and downed half of it before setting it by her mic stand. She checked her chords, caught Domino’s eye, and they made sure they were still tuned. Then, with the tapping of Zav’s sticks, they were into another song.
Mish danced across the stage, playing with the band she loved more than anything else. This was her home.
By the end of the show, she was soaked with sweat and absolutely flying high. They’d done exactly what they’d set out to do. During the bows at the end, she tossed her guitar pick to a young woman in the front row, who burst into tears when she caught it.
There were tears in Mish’s eyes, too, and for once, she wasn’t that bothered by them.
Chapter Sixteen
After the show, in the chaos of cleaning up and changing for fan signing, David found himself grabbed by a sweaty, beaming Mish. She pulled him to her and claimed a kiss that nearly had him on his knees. “Ride with us tonight,” she murmured. “Please. I need you there.”
He hadn’t been planning to. He’d traveled from the hotel to the venue with the band, but despite what she’d said when they’d been in bed together, he wasn’t sure that was the right move, especially after his run-in with the reporter. But with Mish kissing him like that, and her breathless plea, he would be on that bus. “Sure.”
She stole another kiss, then sprinted off to change. He found Marcella and let her know about the travel plans. Oh, the twitch of her lips when she tried not to smile. “I figured that would happen.”
David could only rub his forehead. “Should I? I mean, there’s a world of trouble lurking there.”
Marcella sighed in an exaggerated way. “David. Go get your damn bag from the crew bus and put it on the band bus. Mish and the guys are safe and sound, but they need to clean up enough not to kill their fans with body odor.”
He nearly choked on his laugh, then he went. Most of the crew was breaking down the sets and loading the truck, but a couple of folks were hauling instruments to the buses. “Hey, I’m heading that way, too. Need an extra set of hands?”
Travis nodded and handed him two guitar cases. “Those are Domino’s. Don’t drop them, and follow me.”
He did as instructed, and Travis stowed them in the crew bus. “They don’t ride with their instruments?”
