27: REHEARSAL
The gang’s all here, including a new face I don’t recognize. Dark, mysterious, and exuding solemn confidence, he’s the exact opposite of his girlfriend, Sylvie Drake. I would have known this was Shandor even without the blonde energy-ball fawning all over him.
“Wes!”
The entire room zeroes in on me when Spence comes rushing over for a vicious man-hug. Okay, so maybe I missed the guy. He’s no longer my drummer, but he’ll always be a good friend.
“Hey, dude. Good to see you.”
“Been a minute. What’s with the drama?” he says with an arm-punch.
“Why, you been bored without me?”
The others have joined us now too, and we exchange a variety of greetings. Even Luke—Shit, Luke?—gets a handshake. I feel Hannah’s amusement behind me before she goes in for a full-on hug with the guy. Not blowing a gasket when my girlfriend hugs my nemesis—fucking weird. But here we are. All greeted, smiling, and ready for me to meet my replacement.
“You must be Shandor.” I offer my hand. He returns a firm grip that doesn’t suck, and I point to the rack near where he was before. “That yours?”
“Yeah.”
“A Starplayer, huh? Damn.” His severe expression breaks into a grin at my admiration of his baby. “May I?”
He nods, and I remove the guitar from its stand. I inspect the shiny black finish and gold pick guard. Not brand new, but in good condition. This dude takes care of his shit. His pedal board is impressive too. Pretty sick, actually.
“I also use my Les Paul on tour,” he says, amber eyes testing me right back?
“Yeah? Sweet.” I return the guitar to the rack and slap his arm. “Heard good things, man.”
When I turn back around, everyone is staring like I’d just done an arabesque. I swear, everyone wants you to be a decent person, and when you are, they go all cross-eyed.
“Shandor used to live in Ukrainia,” Sylvie announces, throwing her arms around his waist.
“Romania, babe,” he mutters. “And I’ve lived in a lot of places.”
“Duh, that’s what I meant.” She rolls her eyes and flips multi-colored strands of hair over her shoulder. Blue, pink, purple (is that a feather?) are scattered over her long blonde locks the same color as Holland’s. Hannah is the outlier in the family with her smooth chocolate waves that I can’t stop running my hands through. Even now, I refuse to move on until I pull her against me and plant a kiss on those flower-scented curls. She twists back to give me a smile, and I have to taste that too.
“You ready?” I brush her lips with mine.
Holland shoves me toward a mic. “Ugh, get a room.”
I laugh and begin adjusting the stand. It’s then that I notice the other is still vacant. Hannah hasn’t budged.
“Come on, Han. Right here.” I point to the microphone beside me.
A terror fills her eyes that sucks the humor out of me. “One sec,” I direct to the others and duck around the wedges to meet the girl stationed by the equipment cases.
“What’s going on, babe?” I lift her chin. “You ready to do this?”
Her gaze shoots to the makeshift stage setup and back to me.
“I don’t think I can,” she whispers. “I…” Her ragged breath burns my own lungs, and I draw her into me.
“Of course you can. You’re my viper,” I say against her ear. “You’re going to go over there and kick this song’s ass. Your song.”
Her nod contains zero conviction, and I raise her face again with a stern expression.
“Okay, look. See that guy playing drums? That’s Spence. He agreed to sub-lease his apartment to Shandor. Shandor claims that he paid Spence a security deposit, but now Spence refuses to return it.”
A smile starts to lift the corner of her lips, and I grow even more severe. “The lessee claims that Shandor broke the agreement by moving his pet alligator in, when clearly that wasn’t allowed per Article Four of the lease.”
“Lessor,” she mumbles, burying her face in my shirt.
“Huh?”
“Spence is the lessor. Shandor is the lessee.”
“Smart-ass.” Her laugh vibrates through my chest, and I tighten her to me. “Fine, whatever. What’s your ruling?”
“Depends. Was it a service alligator?”
I snort a laugh. “You ready, babe?”
This time I believe her nod, and after a long, stabilizing breath, I lead her by the hand to the stage.
“Ladies and gentleman. May I introduce the incomparable, Hannah Drake.”
Cheers and applause ring out from our little audience, and my heart bursts at the grin that spreads over my angel’s face.
“Thank you, thank you. Please hold the applause until after the performance,” she says before being swarmed by her two sisters in an explosion of Drake-affection.
“We doing this or what?” I tease, and shrink at the triple death stare. “Just asking.”
Hannah smiles over to me as she breaks away and approaches the stand. Her fingers wrap around the mic clip, and Luke adjusts it for her.
“That good?” he asks. “Make sure it’s... yep, there you go.”
I nod a thank-you in his direction, and he steps back to observe. Sylvie is… oh, seated on Shandor’s amp. He whispers something to her, and she scurries over to stand by Luke.
“Okay, well, you’ve all heard the song?” I ask, scanning the others.
“We’ve run through it a couple of times,” Holland says. “Shandor has a pretty sick riff you’re gonna love.”
I glance back at my replacement. “That so?”
He shrugs, intense yellow eyes alive with excitement. Okay, yeah. I like this guy.
“Just a couple progressions on the bridge.”
“Dude, and that chorus thing,” Spence calls over from behind his kit.
“Oh yeah. There’s a lead line on the chorus I thought would be cool.”
“Sounds good, man,” I say with a smile. “Can’t wait to hear it. Count us off?” I direct to Spence.
He nods and taps his sticks in the air. One. Two. Three. Four.
∞∞∞
The first run-through is good considering we’ve never played it together before. They were right. I love Shandor’s leads and make a couple of suggestions that he rocks like a pro. Spence kills it on drums, adding an edge our living room acoustic version couldn’t touch, and then there’s Holland. Playing with her again, it’s like coming up for air after being sucked into a riptide. Even though she’s changed up her part from our solo rehearsal, I know what she’ll do when she does it. The tone of her guitar is as familiar to me as her voice, and the way she makes it sing—pure magic.
But in a room full of rock stars, it’s ex-lawyer Hannah Drake who leaves a reverent silence in her wake when the last note rings out. We all stare at the stranger before us, this soul who came alive for five minutes and transformed into something of another world. She’s human again when we exchange a grin and her face flushes with a mix of embarrassment and euphoria. I know the feeling. It never goes away; you just learn to mask it better.
“Damn,” I say, breaking the spell before things get awkward.
“Wow,” Holland adds.
“Can I have an autograph?” Luke calls over, and Hannah snorts.
“Stop it, guys.”
“Better get used to it, Han,” I say, enjoying the way her nose scrunches in response.
She straightens and whips back to face the band. “Are we running it again or what?”
∞∞∞
The universe feels right for the first time in a long time when Hannah throws herself back on my couch. I lock the door behind us and move to the kitchen.
“Wow, that was intense,” she says through a long breath. She sits up to peer over the backrest. “Are you getting water?”
“Want some?”
“Please.”
I grab a couple glasses and open a bottle of seltzer.
“Ooh, so fancy,” she gushes as I hand her the fizzy drink.
“Figured we should celebrate.”
“It was a pretty good rehearsal.” She inches forward and holds up her glass.
“Nah, not that.”
“To the first official performance of Viper Rising?”
I shake my head. “Close.”
“Ugh, just say it,” she groans, flicking water at me.
I laugh and wipe the drops off my cheek. Finally, I raise my glass and touch hers. “To me.”
Her entire body participates in the eye roll. “Seriously?”
I smirk and silence her with a kiss. “I didn’t finish,” I breathe against her lips. “To me. For having the sexiest, smartest, most talented girlfriend on the planet.”
Two blue pools widen and melt as they search my face.
“My god,” she whispers before leaning in and brushing her lips against mine. “You’re so… Freaking… Lame.”
She shrieks through a shower of seltzer water.