“You did great tonight, Jamie. Thank you again for coming out here,” Bea panted, and Ro shoved a bottle of water into her hand.
“No problem. It’s been a fun show, I’m looking forward to the rest of them.” Jamie smiled at her, looking all gooey-eyed, and making me want to smack his pretty face, but I didn’t.
I didn’t need to, because Ro was on it, his hand clamping around Jamie’s jaw and turning his face to him. “You better not be looking at my girl like you’re picturing her naked,” he growled.
“Ro!” Bea snapped, slapping his shoulder, then turning to Jamie, who was still being held—not so tightly—by Ronan. “Sorry about him, he has this thing against guitarists, I think it’s his bassist complex.”
“What are you trying to say, Beatrix?” Ro snarled, glaring at her and finally releasing Jamie’s face.
“Nothing, Shnookums,” she said sweetly, batting her lashes and pouting.
“You’re—” Ro started, but Mark finished his sentence for him.
“On, get you’re asses out there now, guys.” He shooed us, flapping his hands at us until we were marching back onto the stage, and I was sitting opposite Bea with an acoustic guitar on my lap, ready to end the show. Ready to play my favourite song in the whole fucking world.
I strummed twice, then the lights lifted, a gentle glow illuminating just the two of us. We were still mostly cast in shadow, and I was glad of it when Bea held the mic to her lips, and without waiting for me, began to sing. I leaned on the guitar as I watched her, listened to her voice, our darling girl singing such a captivating melody. She had me bewitched.
“I see you, the one I’ve known for a million years.
I see you, the friend, the lover, the one who held me through my fears.
They came alive, but you were there.
Fighting, protecting.
You were always fighting. Even as you held me.
Suspended.
Darling that’s where we will forever be.
Suspended.
You and me.”
The crowd was silent, in awe of her. Beatrix Bolton was a fucking goddess. She lived up to our name, and there wasn’t a person in the room who couldn’t see that. She held a long note, opening her eyes, meeting my soppy gaze, and glared, her gaze darting to my guitar, then back to my face.
Suddenly realising what she was trying to say, I placed my fingers on the fretboard, and began to play, plucking for ten seconds, then diving deep into “In Limbo”. We played a second verse, then when the chorus was about to hit, we both rose, kicked our stools out, sending them flying across the stage, and turned to the crowd just as the lights went up, accompanied by purple strobes, and Cole thrashed his feet and hands in a mental drum solo.
Bea sang, and I tossed my guitar to my back as I joined her, harmonising with her as Ronan hit low notes, growling over the top of the sweet lyrics. Jamie played hard, getting into the spirit of things, and I knew he was the perfect stand-in from the way he jumped up onto an amp head, and started to cheer on the crowd as Cole made my insides buzz with a half-time breakdown.
Bea turned to face him, an excited look on her face, then she caught my eye, winked, then spun and ran over to Ronan. She danced around him, her hands roaming over his body as he played his instrument like he wanted to play her. Then she was standing behind him, pushing him to the ground. He made a slow descent, then gazed up at her, his head tilted right back. Her hand wrapped around his throat, and then she was singing again, seducing her ‘boyfriend’ in front of thousands of fans.
“Bow down,” she purred to him, then she began to sing, continuing on with the song, screaming her lungs out as she held him in place.
She squeezed his throat, her nails digging into his skin, and then as the song came to a close, she released, pushing him forward as he panted and sucked down heavy lungfuls of air.
And then it all went black. The venue plunged into darkness, and we were gone, disappearing down a long corridor, all floating on fucking clouds as the electricity of our set thrummed through our veins. I felt as though I had a storm raging inside my chest, thunder crashing with my heartbeat.
“You guys were on a whole other level tonight!” Elijah exclaimed as he met us in the corridor, wrapping an arm around Bea’s shoulder as he walked with us back to the others. “And that choking thing… Holy shit. Ro, are you alright? You looked like you actually passed out in the end there.”
“I can take it,” Ro said cockily, then shoved Elijah off of Bea and wrapped his own possessive arm around her. I wanted to do the same. I was craving the feel of her skin, the scent of her sweat. I wanted to embrace her like a lover, not a friend. But until we were back to the safety of our bus, I had to suck it up.
Elijah snorted a laugh as Ro glared at him, then dropped back to walk side by side with me instead. “Carol called,” he said quietly. “She took his keys when he got back the other day, and she’s going to meet us at the London show on Friday with them.”
“Your housekeeper is a goddamn angel, tell her that for me.” I grinned, slapping him on the back and pulling him under my arm. “Now, I don’t suppose you could do us another favour?”
I was staring at Bea’s ass as we walked, captivated by the sway of her hips and the way her cheeks practically swallowed up her shorts. Elijah caught on straight away. “If it’s what I think it is, not a chance in hell. I’ve not made my girl scream in days; I’m not taking in your stray.”