Page 35

We had time to go back to the hotel and change, and I wanted to touch up my makeup since it had sweated off in the heat of the day. Even though the hotel was only a few blocks’ walk from the bar, the humidity in the late-afternoon air had me sweating again.

‘I’m not sure I’m built for the South, you know,’ I said, blowing my hair off my face.

Brooke laughed. ‘Let me choose what you wear tonight?’ she asked.

I unlocked the hotel room door and pushed it open, releasing a burst of blessed cool air.

‘From what we already have with us, right?’ I said cagily, knowing what she was like.

‘You’re always so suspicious,’ she said. ‘But, yeah, we don’t have time to go out and get something new.’

I didn’t own anything particularly outrageous, so at least I knew Brooke couldn’t do much damage.

I took a really quick shower and washed my face, put my underwear back on and brushed my teeth. When I went out into the room, the AC made me shiver, and all the hairs on the back of my arms stood up.

Brooke had set out my black dress from Goodwill, a pair of black tights, my black Doc Martens and a black short-sleeved shirt from her own wardrobe.

‘It could be worse,’ I murmured.

‘Trust me,’ Brooke said, floating past me to take her turn in the bathroom.

There was a second mirror in the main part of the bedroom, over the desk, so while Brooke fixed whatever needed fixing, I sat down and started on my makeup.

I’d gotten used to the shorter hair now, and the blonde, and I’d figured out how to do my eyeliner with soft flicks at the corner of my eyes. I really didn’t look like Mouse anymore. That felt like relief. Like bone-deep relief.

Brooke came out of the bathroom in tight black jeans and a black tank that scooped low over her boobs.

My eyes almost bugged out of my head.

‘Is that my top?’

She looked down at her chest, then back at me with a wicked smile. ‘Oops.’

She was wearing red lipstick, too, deep, dark red that set all the rest of her features into sharp relief. She came up behind me and took the hairspray off the counter to work it through my hair, making it artfully tousled.

I had lost the ability to speak, because Brooke didn’t just look gorgeous, she looked gorgeous and she was wearing my clothes . My brain short-circuited, and despite the cool air I was suddenly hot all over.

When I stood up, Brooke took half a step back, then smiled at me and stepped in close again, but I wanted to be in charge this time, to be the kiss-er, not the kiss-ee. The boots gave me a bit of extra height, and I leaned in to brush my lips over hers.

‘You look hot,’ she murmured when I pulled away.

‘Thanks,’ I said, still not used to her saying things like that.

She grabbed the overshirt that she’d left out and passed it to me. I put it on, and she took the ends and tied them into a knot.

‘Holy shit, this almost gives the impression that I have boobs.’

Brooke laughed. ‘You have boobs.’

‘Not like …’ I gestured at her.

‘Eh, we work with what we’ve got.’

She put on sneakers, which balanced out her outfit slightly. I wasn’t sure how I’d cope if she put on heels.

‘Come on. We’re gonna be late.’

The bar was already busy when we arrived, and Brooke pointed out our names on a list, so we didn’t have to join the people waiting to be let in. That wasn’t Brooke’s style. She skipped the line and held my hand as we weaved our way through the bar.

The other performers were gathered at a few tables to one side of the room, and Damien came over with bottles of water. We were up third out of ten entrants, which seemed like a good place. Not first or last, which were equally bad, or somewhere near the end when people started losing interest.

I drummed my fingers on the table through the first two sets, only stopping when Brooke put her hand on mine. Then I started bouncing my knee instead, and she gave up trying to prevent my fidgeting.

Damien was acting as MC, introducing each act and encouraging people to tip their bartender.

‘Hey everyone, our next set is from Swift Summer. They’re new in town, and I’ve heard they’re pretty great, so let’s give them a big welcome!’

‘I’m gonna puke, I’m gonna puke,’ I muttered as Brooke grabbed my hand and dragged me up onto the stage.

We’d agreed to run the set in the same order we’d practiced it earlier, which meant I had to get my shit together enough to play guitar for ‘Jolene’. I took the tall stool, angling it a little to hide behind the piano, and ran my thumbs over the strings to check the tuning.

Damien came around and adjusted the two mics so one was pointed at the guitar and the other was way too close to my lips.

‘You’re amazing,’ Brooke mouthed at me. Her smile turned my blood electric.

The noise in the bar never dropped completely – the bartenders were still working, and some people kept low conversations going through our songs. That was good. It was great , in fact, because it meant not everyone’s attention was on me, and I was much more okay with that.

The stage was lit with a couple dozen lights, so I couldn’t really see more than a few rows into the audience. But when Brooke started playing, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.

She was in her element.

Not just because she was the center of attention, but because she was being her most authentic self.

I knew I loved her then.

It had been on the cards for a while.

She was bright and beautiful and, sure, I could have a crush on the way she looked, but that wasn’t it anymore.

I knew the quiet girl, the funny girl, the talented girl.

The girl who had protected me, who had looked to me to protect her, too.

The Brooke who had made me Jessie, instead of Mouse, and how could I do anything but love her after that? She’d rewritten me. Remade me.

I set the guitar down for our last song, ‘Thunder Road’. This was Brooke, all Brooke, and I just provided harmony. Her sexy, soft, deeper voice worked perfectly for this, and I felt us connect across the stage: my voice and hers.

It was a cliché to say I was startled by the applause at the end of our set, but for a moment I’d totally forgotten we were on stage. Everyone else had stopped mattering.

Brooke came and wrapped me up in a tight hug, too tight, and then she dipped into a little bow for the crowd, and I dropped a curtsey, appreciating the few laughs that drew from my invisible audience.

And then it was over.

I couldn’t admit to Brooke that it wasn’t as bad as I’d been expecting, because she’d never let me forget that if I did.

And if I was being honest with myself, I’d almost enjoyed it.

Being on stage with her, feeling that connection, the crowd’s reaction to how well our voices blended together, all created a heady mix that I could easily get addicted to.

I held her hand tightly as we stepped down off the stage and went back to our seats, accepting congratulations from the other performers.

‘You guys were great,’ the woman next to me said.

‘Thanks,’ I replied.

The next band starting up saved me from having to say any more.

I sent the woman a polite smile and turned away, back to the stage, as a guy with a beard and a guitar checked his mic.

It took me half a second into his song to realize that this was the guy Liam had told us about – the one who always performed ‘Graceland’. He was good. His voice had that kind of husky tone that was super popular, and he was attractive, too.

Under the table, Brooke put her hand on my thigh. Even though I thought the heat from her palm would burn me, I didn’t squirm, and she left it there for the rest of the night.

We didn’t win.

That was okay.

From what Liam had told us, I wasn’t expecting to, and there were some people playing who were clearly open mic night regulars and objectively better than us.

It didn’t really matter. Brooke had dragged me into it because of the prize money, and I’d agreed to it because, sure, five hundred bucks would have nicely topped up our funds.

But I’d taken more away from the night than the prize money.

When we stepped onto the street, it seemed to have its own atmosphere and buzz, even though it was after midnight on a weeknight. People spilled out of the bars to smoke, and I could hear music from multiple venues.

‘You did it,’ Brooke said, slinging an arm around my shoulders.

‘And I didn’t puke!’

She laughed. ‘I knew you wouldn’t. You were pretty amazing up there, Jessie.’

‘You were too.’

I leaned into her side and she squeezed my shoulder, and for the first time since leaving Seattle, I let myself breathe.