Chapter Seven
DAISY PUCKERED HER SOFT PINK lips in the mirror, tilting her head as if testing how they might look under the glow of stage lights. Jameson would be there any minute to pick her up.
She still couldn’t believe her parents had agreed to let her go.
Only after insisting that she and Jameson were nothing more than good friends who happened to share a taste in music had they finally relented.
Daisy knew it wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.
For now, their growing relationship lived in the shadows.
She wasn’t ready for every look, every touch, every minute with Jameson to be scrutinized by her parents or worse, by her brother.
Sean’s friendship with Jameson and the rest of The Kings Court felt too important to risk.
Daisy feared he’d never forgive her if he thought she was meddling in that bond.
Jameson would often assure her otherwise, promising he could make Sean understand, but Daisy had known her brother for fifteen years. She wasn’t willing to test it.
Taking one last glance at her reflection, Daisy smoothed down her black skater dress. The fringe jacket and chunky black booties completed the look. For once, she felt like the rocker girl she had always dreamed of being.
She found Jameson in the kitchen speaking with her parents.
“Give your mom and uncle our deepest condolences,” her father was saying. “Such a terrible thing.”
“Thank you, sir. They’ll appreciate that,” Jameson replied politely.
Daisy froze. “What’s going on?”
All three heads turned toward her, the “vision in black,” as Jameson’s eyes lingered a second too long.
If her parents hadn’t been in the room, she knew he would’ve kissed her right then.
Since her birthday, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other.
Little stolen moments, several “lessons” in her studio, each one leaving her wanting more.
“Just family stuff.” Jameson brushed it off. “Ready?”
Daisy nodded, though curiosity burned inside her.
Her father interjected. “Home by curfew.”
“But the concert won’t even be over by then and it’s in Oakland,” Daisy argued.
Her father sighed. “Only because you’re with Jameson. Be careful. Call if you’ll be late, and try to be home by eleven.”
“Yes, sir.” Jameson nodded respectfully.
Moments later, they were in Jameson’s old Land Cruiser, hands linked over the center console.
“What’s going on?” Daisy pressed softly.
His smile faltered. “Nothing.”
“Please don’t do that.”
He glanced sideways. “Do what?”
“Keep things from me because you think I can’t handle them. I’m a big girl, Jameson.” She pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms.
He arched a brow, smirking. “Trust me. I know you’re a big girl, Daisy.”
“Don’t try to be cute.” She shot him a glare, though her heart skipped anyway. “What were you talking about with my parents?”
He sighed, tightening his grip on the wheel. “I don’t want to ruin tonight. Can we talk about it after?”
The plea in his eyes softened her. “Okay,” she whispered, choosing—for now—to let it go.
They drove the rest of the way to Oakland mostly in silence. But Daisy’s anticipation only grew as they parked and joined the flood of fans pouring into the Coliseum.
Inside, the air pulsed with neon hair, black leather, and pure electric sound. Daisy clutched Jameson’s arm as they made their way toward the stage. Her heart felt like it might explode. This was her first real concert—the moment she’d dreamed of since she was six years old.
The lights dropped and the crowd roared.
And then the opening act took the stage.
Daisy barely noticed the rest of the band at first. Not when she could feel Jameson’s gaze on her like a spotlight.
The first chord hit and her whole body reacted before her mind caught up, a pulse in her chest, a rhythm in her bones. She glanced up, and there he was, watching her like she was the only thing that mattered.
Lenny Kravitz came out, grinning, and something in Daisy’s throat tightened so fast it startled her. She blinked hard, willing herself not to cry in public.
Next to her, Jameson’s expression shifted. Like he’d decided something.
And for the first time since they met, Daisy let herself believe it could be the beginning of something truly special.
A second later, the arena exploded. Daisy shrieked with joy, clutching his hand as the opening notes of “American Woman” blasted through the speakers.
Jameson leaned down and promised Daisy that TKC would cover it at their next Bullets show, dedicated solely to her, his “American Woman.”
The crowd roared when U2 finally took the stage.
They didn’t stop moving the entire show. They danced, screamed, and sang until their voices cracked. Daisy shrieked with joy, clutching his hand as “With or Without You” blasted through the arena.
It was one of their songs.
By the end of the night, Daisy was flushed and glowing.
“This was one of the best nights of my life,” she whispered as they stepped outside into the cool air. She pressed against him, her lips brushing his. “I’m so glad it was with you.”
“Me too, darlin’,” he murmured, kissing her softly.
A group of rowdy kids catcalled, breaking them apart with a mix of laughter and embarrassment. Daisy darted to his car, cheeks red.
Since it was just past her curfew, Daisy called her father and informed him that they were headed home. After hanging up with him, Daisy pressed play on their earlier conversation.
“Will you tell me now?”
He exhaled, drawing circles on her bare knee. “My grandfather’s ill. He had another stroke. Mum left for England this morning; they’re not sure how much longer he has.”
“Oh, Jameson.” She placed her hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. It’s especially hard for Mum and Uncle Charlie.”
“You should’ve told me,” she said gently. “I want to be here for you.”
“I know.” His smile was weary. “But that’s not the part I was afraid to tell you.”
Her stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going back right after school ends. To England.”
Her eyes pricked with unshed tears. Tears that she willed away. “Like forever?”
Jameson chuckled softly, squeezing her hand. “Not forever, silly girl. I’ll be back for the school year.”
Daisy let out a huge breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
“Oh wow, I thought… maybe I’m not as strong as I think I am!”
“You are, Daisy, and don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”
She waited a few moments before saying anything. “I’ll miss you,” she whispered.
“I’ll miss you too, but we can talk every day. Nothing is going to change.”
Though she smiled and agreed, Daisy sensed the change already taking root—not an ending, but the beginning of something bigger than both of them.
Jameson and his cousins left for England the morning after the last day of school. Ky and Lenny’s mother, Rebecca, had stayed behind with the boys while they finished up.
They performed their last show at Bullets before leaving but promised to return in the fall with even better material. Their small group of fans were bummed, but when life called, you had to answer.
From across the ocean, Jameson kept his promise. Every night, Daisy fell asleep with his voice in her ear, his guitar spilling softly through the phone. Only weeks later did she realize he was waking before dawn just to serenade her before she slept.
“You don’t need to lose sleep for me,” she scolded.
“Of course I do,” he teased. “Who else would sing you to sleep?”
“I could always let David Bowie or Jimi Hendrix do it,” she joked.
“I don’t want you dreaming of other men.” His voice dropped lower, sweeter. “I want to be the last you hear at night. And the first thing you hear in the morning.”
Her body tingled at his honeyed words. She could never get enough.
“I have a new song for you tonight. I’ve been working on it for a bit. It’s still pretty rough, though.”
Daisy snuggled in her bed.
“Let’s hear it, Band Boy.”
There was silence before the light strum of his guitar filled the sound waves. His voice carried effortlessly through the phone.
Miles and miles apart we are,
A bond so strong it doesn’t seem that far,
Can’t wait til the day that I see your face,
I’ll be first to the finish, the first to embrace.
I need what you give me, I’m addicted,
You’re my drug.
Don’t ever go away, I’m dependent,
Need your love.
Still miles and miles apart we are,
But a bond so strong it doesn’t seem that far.
American girl, so timid to the touch,
Epitome of beauty, I wish she knew how much.
Her body is my poison, while her hands are my cure.
They sprout labels of magic, she’s the light, she is pure.
Still miles and miles apart we are,
But a bond so strong it doesn’t seem that far.
As Daisy drifted to sleep, her dreams belonged not to Mr. Bowie or Mr. Hendrix, but to the boy who had claimed her heart with every note.