Chapter 29
Easton
My voice sounds strange to my own ears as we record “Dance with You ’Til Midnight” over and over again. It’s not enough to be good. We have to be better. We have to be perfect.
Recording in this studio is different. We’re recording live, all at once, to capture the fresh energy of the songs, just like Liam must have done when he recorded here.
Usually all the instruments or at least the vocals are tracked separately.
But we want to keep it raw and honest, and that means we have to do it in one take.
My voice. Us. Our songs. Our energy. We play as if our lives depend on it, and in a way, they do.
Our whole damn future depends on it. We play as if we’re not in a small studio in the West End of Boston.
We play as if our audience isn’t just two recording technicians and Rayne.
My heart is pounding to the rhythm of Jax’s drums. I’m sweating and my fingers are almost numb, but I hardly notice. I’m caught up in our music and in the words Rayne and I wrote together.
I won’t turn back
I won’t give up
I’ll make it fucking right
Get lost in music
Lost in you
And dance with you ’til midnight
This isn’t just a song. These aren’t just words that make up a verse, a pre-chorus, and a chorus.
It’s us. Rayne and me.
We are this song, and we could be more. We could be anything we want, if she would just give us a chance.
My gaze wanders over to her all by itself.
It’s been like this all day. I can’t stop.
I look at her, and she looks at me with that expression in her eyes that’s sad and happy and proud and everything in between.
Her lips are moving silently along with mine as I sing the chorus one last time.
Her gaze burns into mine. She has tears in her eyes again, but she smiles, and I must be a terrible friend because everything inside me is urging me to go to her and put my arms around her.
I want to press my mouth against hers, to taste her, to feel her, to lose myself in her.
The instruments fade away, leaving only my voice for the last line, and then silence—a silence that rings on in my ears. I take off my headphones when Phil, one of the recording technicians, gives us a sign.
“That was good,” he says, and Miller, his colleague, gives us a thumbs-up. “I’d say it’s time for a break.”
“Thank God.” Jax groans with relief. “I don’t think I’ll be able to move my arms tomorrow.”
“Then you’re going to have a problem if we ever go on tour,” Colin says.
“No worries, I’ve got plenty of time to work on my guns before then.”
“To do that, you’ll have to use them,” Beck says with a laugh, putting his guitar aside.
Colin and I do the same, and Rayne comes over with her arms full of water bottles, which she hands out to us. She gives me the last one, and my fingers brush hers, sending an electrifying tingle straight up my arm to my chest.
I can tell she feels it too when she bites her lower lip and her eyes get darker.
It would be so easy to kiss her right now. So damn easy. But it’s not what she wants or needs, and I have to accept that, damn it.
“You did great,” she says, her voice hoarse, as if she were the one who’d just spent the last few hours singing the same song over and over again.
“Really?” I ask, hearing how insecure I suddenly sound, even though two minutes ago I was convinced we were good. Really good. But this damn self-doubt doesn’t care; it just pops up without warning.
“I promise.” She reaches for my hand because she knows what I’m thinking, squeezes it briefly, and then lets go.
I have to fight the urge to reach for her, to intertwine her fingers with mine, because it feels so wrong not to.
“It was even better than I thought it would be,” she says.
“You were just incredible—” she breaks off, shaking her head. “Just keep it up, okay?”
I nod because I suddenly don’t know what to say. I hate that it’s so difficult to talk to her now. I have no fucking idea how we’re going to get back to when it was easy. There are so many things I want to tell her.
I miss you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. I want to be with you all the time. You’re not losing me. Trust me.
I open my mouth to speak, and Rayne looks at me, her eyes gleaming. I swallow, she holds her breath, and I have to say it now, there’s no other way. We’re not friends. We’re more than that. She knows it, and she doesn’t need to be afraid of it.
“Rayne . . .” I begin, even though it’s the wrong place and time because we’re not alone. That doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters except her and me. “I think—” I break off when a large hand meets my shoulder.
“Shall we continue?” Jax asks cheerfully. The wrong moment, which could have been the right one, is over now. Jax really has terrible timing.
Rayne is the first to find her voice again. “Yeah, keep going. I need to make a quick phone call. I’ll be right back.” She rushes out of the room, not taking her hat or jacket, even though the dress she’s wearing is much too thin for February. I want to follow her, but I can’t move.
Fuck.
“Is everything okay with you two?” Jax asks. There’s a deep crease between his brows. “Did I interrupt something?”
I sigh. “Let’s just get on with it.”