34. Thirty-Four
Thirty-Four
Luke
“No way,” I say for what feels like the hundredth time, but the band isn’t having it.
“Dude, you wrote a love song,” Vince grins from behind his guitar. “An actual, honest-to-God love song. We should play it. Live. Tonight.”
We’re in final rehearsals for tonight’s one-off televised show, and I’m going to kill Kendrick for mentioning the song. She’d helped me polish the lyrics and turn my raw emotions into something coherent, but it was never meant for anyone else to hear .
Cass shakes his head. “Come on, man. You need to take the spotlight on this one.”
“Luke, you need to sing this. It’s beautiful, and It’s your song.“ Kendrick chimes in.
“I’m not a singer,” I protest, fingers hovering over my keyboard. “There’s a reason I stay back here.”
“Phil Collins was just a drummer,” Nate points out, twirling his drumsticks. “Then Genesis needed a singer, and boom—legend.”
“That’s different—“
“Luke.” Cass’s voice cuts through my objections. “Play the damn song. Kendrick said it’s great, and she should know.”
They spend the next fifteen minutes badgering me until finally—finally—I play them the song. When I finish, there’s silence.
“Holy shit,” Nate whispers.
“Yeah,” Vince agrees. “We’re playing it. You’ll owe us, man, because that’s gonna make Lila cry.”
“We’re all gonna cry,” Emily corrects, already wiping her eyes.
I look at each of them—my bandmates, my family, really. Cass looking annoyingly smug, and so is Kendrick. Vince pretending to wipe away tears. Nate trying not to smile.
“Fine,” I concede, then hold up a hand before they can celebrate. “But only if I can sing it to her—directly to her.”
“Meaning?” Cass leans forward.
A plan starts forming in my mind. The song isn’t the only secret I’ve been keeping.
“Meaning I’d like her to be there, so I can tell her, ask her…”
Understanding dawns on their faces, followed by grins.
“You’re going to—“ Vince starts.
“Don’t say it out loud,” I warn.
“Oh my God,” Emily clasps her hands together. “This is perfect. Do you have the—“
I nod, and she actually squeals.
“Okay,” Emily takes over, always the organizer. “Here’s how we’ll set it up...”
After we have it all planned out, Cass comes over to clap me on the shoulder. “You sure about this? ”
I think about Lila—about midnight pancakes and stolen kisses, about how she sees me, really sees me. Not just as the rockstar but the man behind the keyboard, how she’s changed everything without even trying.
“Never been more sure of anything.”
He nods, satisfied. “Then let’s make it epic.”
As we run through it a few more times, my heart is already racing. In less than seven hours, I’m going to be singing in front of millions of people on live television.
No pressure.
Someone pokes their head in. “Miss Jeffers is here.”
“Practice is over!” Emily announces quickly. “Everyone act normal!”
Lila appears in the doorway, carrying what smells like her famous lasagna, and everyone suddenly becomes very interested in their instruments.
“Hey,” she smiles, and my heart skips like it always does. “Thought you guys might be hungry.”
As the others descend on the food, I pull her close, kissing her softly. “Thanks. I’m always hungry when you’re around. ”
She flushes a bright red at my innuendo. “Good rehearsal?”
I think about the song, about what’s coming tonight. “You could say that.”
“Everything okay? You seem... different.”
I kiss her again, longer this time. “Everything’s perfect. Tonight going to be electric.”
She grins in agreement, and I just smile. Because tonight, our relationship changes.
And I’m so ready for it.
The lights dim in the studio, and my heart pounds against my ribs. Lila’s standing in the wings, exactly where we planned, watching with that proud smile that still makes my chest tighten. She has no idea what’s coming.
The host of the show smiles, in on the act. The cameras are set up, and the stage is set.
“And now we have a special live performance by the Wild Band.” The host announces to the small audience, looking directly into the cameras. He then gestures to the side, and the spotlights and cameras shine on us.
This is it. I’m sitting behind my keyboard, the microphone in front of me. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans.
“We’ve got something memorable for you tonight,” Cass announces, “Our own Luke Sterling has written a song, and for the first time ever, he’s going to sing for you.”
The surprised cheers from the small audience match the shocked expression on Lila’s face. Emily appears behind her, placing her hands on Lila’s shoulders to keep her in place.
“This song is for someone special in my life,” I say, my voice steady despite the thunder in my chest. “Lila,” my voice echoes through the silent room as I extend my hand. “Come here, sweetheart.”
Emily gives her a gentle push, and she walks toward me like she’s in a dream. I smile at her, and she sits down in the chair they have placed in front of me. The spotlight widens, finding us both.
I meet Lila’s eyes. And then I start to play .
The first notes fill the air, and I forget about being nervous. I forget about the camera and the millions of people watching from home. I only see her.
The lyrics come easier than I expect, the words blending perfectly with the melody I built for her.
It’s honest, raw, filled with emotion—And it’s entirely for her.
The lyrics continue to pour out of me, everything I’ve wanted to say to her since that first night. The band joins in softly behind me, supporting but not overwhelming. When I get to the chorus, I look directly at her as I continue to sing about midnight pancakes and her sweet kisses.
By the final verse, tears are streaming down her face.
When I finish the song, the studio erupts in applause, but all I see is her.
I stand, my heart pounding like a damn drumbeat.
She runs to me, and when I catch her in my arms, everything else fades away—the cameras, the audience, the world. This is what matters. Us.
“I love you,” I tell her, not caring that we’re live on television. “More than music, more than fame, more than anything.”
The audience explodes behind us.
The cameras zoom in.
But all I care about is the woman in my arms.
My everything.
I set her down. Then, kneeling in front of her, I look up into her eyes.
“Lila Jeffers. Will you marry me?” I hold out the velvet ring box.
“Yes. I love you too, Luke.”
When I stand and kiss her, the audience erupts again. But all I can feel is her in my arms, her tears on my cheeks, her whispered “I love you” against my lips.
As we stand there, holding each other, I know there will be more midnight pancakes, more adventures, more moments that take my breath away.
And I can’t wait for us to begin building our life—together.