Chapter Nine
TIME SEEMED TO FLY ONCE Daisy and Jameson stopped pretending.
What surprised her most was how few people were actually surprised.
Evidently, they were spectacularly bad at secrets.
Their moms had known. Charlie and Rebecca had guessed and most classmates had, too.
Even Sean had heard the rumors; he just refused to believe them until he saw for himself.
It was awkward with him at first. For a while, he tossed snippy “groupie” comments at Daisy, which infuriated Jameson, and he’d exit any room they were both in.
But as weeks passed and it became obvious this wasn’t a flimsy teenage fling, Sean came around.
He still had his moments, but overall, they got along.
Even Daisy’s dad was surprisingly receptive.
Sure, he tried to scare the living daylights out of Jameson whenever he could, but such was a father’s love.
They were slow in their physical relationship.
There were kisses that left Daisy feeling dizzy, hands that learned to stop before going too far, and a closeness that made Daisy feel held rather than hurried.
Jameson wanted more, she knew, but he matched her pace.
She treasured their stolen quiet because there wasn’t much of it.
Life was a merry-go-round of school, art, and the band.
Bullets had become a second home. For seven straight months, there wasn’t a week without a set.
Frankie now booked TKC regularly; the bar was busier with them as the house band.
As the crowds grew, so did the chances of being seen by the right people.
And one night in early April, Hollywood came knocking—by way of Erik Soriano.
Erik was a well-known record executive, who worked for one of the most prominent labels in the country, Luxor Records.
Luxor had produced some of the most recognized artists of the 21st century and anyone who was anyone wanted to be represented by the label.
Daisy clocked him the second he slid onto a stool, LA Dodgers cap pulled low.
She didn’t tell the guys. Knowing would only make them nervous.
She held her breath as TKC took the stage.
She knew that the moment they started, their lives would forever change.
There was no way Erik Soriano was walking out of the bar without falling in love with their sound.
The second the chorus of the first song hit, Erik’s mouth curved into a grin.
He watched three songs, then stood up and… left.
Daisy blinked. Had she misread him? She was sure he’d loved them.
What an ass, she thought, heat crawling up her neck. No way was she telling the guys he’d been here. Someone else would come along.
She forced herself to focus on the remainder of the set.
When it ended, she hurried toward the dinky dressing room and froze at the rumble of laughter inside.
Peeking through the door, she saw a tall, dark-haired man twirling a Dodgers cap in his fingers, talking to the band. The guys were starstruck.
“You kids are the real deal,” he said. “A buddy told me I had to come see a young rock band in San Mateo. I’m glad I did.”
“Thanks,” they mumbled in chorus.
“I was impressed. So impressed I called my team during your set to get some things moving.”
“What things?” Kyler asked.
“Good things.” He flicked a business card toward Lenny. “You’ll be hearing from me very soon.”
Erik shook hands, nodded to each of them, and brushed past Daisy as he exited the room. Jameson found her instantly, burying his smile in her neck. “Did you hear that, Daisy?”
“Just the end. What did he say?”
“He likes us—really likes us. Said we could be the next big thing in rock. Erik Soriano said that.” He was breathless. The whole band buzzed for the rest of the night, and Daisy knew: this was just the beginning.
The call came a few days later. And a few days after that, the guys were on a plane to Los Angeles.
Whirlwind didn’t begin to cover it.
Charlie and Margot joined them for the weekend.
Daisy missed them, Jameson most of all. Even Sean moped around without TKC in the daily mix.
He quickly realized he was out of his depth, “resigning” as band manager pending an actual record deal.
Jameson could barely find a minute to call; Daisy poured the ache into a commissioned piece in her studio and worked until the rough feeling of missing him smoothed out.
It was late Sunday night when Jameson opened the door to Daisy’s studio.
He immediately took in the odd scene. Daisy wasn’t on her tarp, painting away as per usual; instead, she was lying on the couch, wrapped in the Aerosmith blanket Jameson had gotten her for Christmas, watching The Breakfast Club.
“Not painting tonight?”
Her head whipped around, her whole face brightening. “Hey! You didn’t say you were coming over.” She flew into his arms.
“I missed you too much.”
“I missed you, too. How was LA?”
He raked a hand through his hair and sank onto the couch. “Crazy. We were on the go the whole time—recording, meetings, more recording—”
“Whoa, slow down. Start from the beginning.”
So he did.
They’d been rushed straight from the airport to the studio to play originals for more execs and, unbeknownst to them, Luxor’s president, Don Luxor.
They were impressed. Erik had lunch brought in; they talked through what a deal would mean.
Erik was mindful that they were still in school.
Margot was adamant that the boys would graduate regardless of where their career took them.
Luxor would work around it. Lenny was a senior, the others a year behind.
They laid out everything, shows, recording, touring, and gave them a week to have the contract reviewed.
“So they offered you a record deal?” Daisy squealed.
Jameson leaned forward, elbows on knees, and nodded. “Yes.”
Her breath left in a happy rush. “What are you going to say?”
He tucked a strand of dark auburn behind her ear, voice a little hoarse. “Charlie had your dad help us get it reviewed; revisions went back and… they accepted. We signed this morning. We have a record deal.”
Daisy launched at him. “What! Oh my gosh—congratulations!” She kissed his cheeks, his nose, his grin. “So what now?”
“We’ll keep playing Bullets through the end of the school year. Then we record our first album this summer in LA.”
Her eyes stung. “I’m so proud of you. No one deserves this more.”
“It feels unreal, like I dreamed the whole weekend.”
“Soon you’ll be living it.”
“And you’ll be right there with me, yeah?”
Daisy didn’t know what her place would look like in his new orbit. She only knew she loved him and he loved her. For now, that was enough. “Always.”
Then he kissed her slowly, guiding them down until their bodies fit perfectly along the cushions, her back against the couch, his hand tracing the delicate line of her collarbone.
Heat climbed, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away.
When the moment pressed toward more, Jameson paused, searching her eyes. Daisy smiled and tugged him closer.
They crossed lines they hadn’t before, careful not to go all the way, yet it was enough to drive their connection deeper than ever.
Daisy had thought she knew what to expect—Anna had once explained the basics of these things—but no explanation in the world could have prepared her for how it actually felt.
“Was it… okay?” Jameson asked softly, his voice wary as they caught their breath.
“G-good. So good,” she murmured, fingers threading gently through his hair.
His lips curved. “Well, we’ve got the rest of our lives to figure it all out.”
She looked up into his wide blue eyes and smiled.
“Forever, huh?”
“I’m planning on it.”
The countdown was officially on.
In T-minus twelve hours, the guys would head to Los Angeles for eight weeks to record their first album. They’d gone down to LA once more to finalize terms and meet their new manager, Harley Luxor.
Harley was the twenty-two-year-old daughter of label president Don Luxor.
She had interned at Luxor for years and now had both a job and a band.
She was quick, fun, determined, and the guys seemed to take to her.
Also gorgeous, according to Kyler’s fervent report to Sean and Daisy.
Daisy trusted Jameson, but she was still a teenage girl with a teenage heart.
She hoped Harley would keep things professional, but when it came to her boyfriend, it was hard for girls not to fawn.
Daisy was usually in a state of awe around him herself and they had been together for over a year.
She was still blown away by his voice and his talent, but more than anything, she was most taken by his heart.
She’d remember the way Jameson still sang her to sleep over the phone and the way he treated her like the only girl in the room, and her worry would loosen its grip.
To kick off summer—and say goodbye for now—the group found themselves at a familiar spot with what felt like the entire town.
Bullets would always hold a special place in their hearts.
Frankie’s voice wobbled as he introduced TKC for their final set before LA.
It would be a while before they stepped foot in the bar again.
As always, the guys tore through the night; their parents along with Daisy’s were all in attendance for their final show.
She was surrounded by the people she loved most and wanted it to forever remain that way.
She soaked in every second, greedy for it never to end.
Morning came anyway.
The guys and Daisy had spent most of the night in her studio, eating pizza, watching movies, and playing music. They left around 1 a.m. to catch some sleep, since they had an early flight to LA.
Sleep evaded Daisy. She tossed and turned, unable to succumb. At exactly 5 a.m., she left her house, got into her newly gifted car, and drove to Jameson’s.
She found him on his small wraparound porch, guitar in hand. Daisy swallowed a lump in her throat. God, she would miss him.
“Hey, darlin’.” He lightly strummed as she sat next to him.
“Hey.”
They were silent for a while, breathing in the cold morning air, watching the fog slowly move past them. Daisy rested her head on his shoulder while he continued to strum his guitar. He hummed along, working words out in his head before he began singing:
From across the room I saw you,
No words were said at all,
I could feel my heart begin to fall.
In that moment there was something that I knew,
Brightest star in the sky,
An angel sent before my eyes,
Just one look and I knew you felt it too.
Two hearts destined to be one,
By one touch I am unraveled,
By one touch I come undone.
For you I’ll never burn, this heart will only yearn.
For you,
For you,
With you I come alive, no need to see the other side.
For you,
Only you.
For you I’ll never burn, this heart will only yearn.
For you,
For you,
With you I come alive, no need to see the other side.
For you,
Only you.
Daisy wiped a lone tear streaming down her face. “Did you just write that?”
He only nodded and kept playing.
Time crept up and slowed down in a way that felt illegal, and soon it was time for him to depart.
Daisy hugged him hard, then let go first.
“It’s eight weeks,” he said softly. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
She leaned up and pecked him on the lips, mindful of his lingering family. “Have fun, Band Boy. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He kissed her once more, then she watched as he drove away into his future.
Eight Weeks Later
Passengers spilled down the escalator, one after another, and still no Jameson.
They were finally coming home. Daisy stood with Rebecca, Margot, and Charlie, all of them jittery with the same nervous energy.
It had been a long eight weeks, filled with short phone calls and even shorter messages.
Daisy understood that they were insanely busy, she really did, but some nights frustration flared before she could coax herself back into being the steady girlfriend he needed. Needless to say, it hadn’t been easy.
“There he is!” Margot squeezed Daisy’s arm and pointed.
Jameson’s hair was longer; somehow, he looked taller.
As they drew closer, their parents closed the distance between them and clutched onto their sons.
Daisy lingered back, giving them space. Jameson looked over his mother’s head and found Daisy with a helpless, aching smile.
He had missed her just as much; he longed to have her back in his arms. Once Margot let go, Jameson bolted to Daisy, picking her up from where she stood, spinning her around.
“I’m so sorry,” he blurted.
“Hello to you, too.” She laughed, brow lifting. “Why sorry?”
“I barely called. When I did, I’d completely miss you. We were slammed—but I’ll make it up to you.” He looked almost frantic.
She cradled his face. “I told you I understood. I meant it. I’m not mad. I just missed you. I’m happy you’re home.”
“Me too, darlin’.”
They ate a quick dinner at Charlie and Rebecca’s, then Jameson drove Daisy home. After hellos to her parents and hanging out with Sean for a while, they slipped into the studio.
“There are loads of new pieces in here,” he said, spinning slowly.
“I had to do something to keep my mind off of missing you,” she said, grinning.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her, but there was a weight under the kiss she could feel. She pulled back. “What is it, Jameson?”
He nuzzled into her neck. “We’re going on tour next year—with Ace Monroe.”
Daisy gently grabbed the sides of his face. “Ace Monroe! That’s wonderful news!”
He half-smiled, then the worry flickered back.
“Are you not excited?” Daisy asked. Ace Monroe was huge. This could catapult them.
“I am. It’s a small tour… but a long one.”
“How long?”
Jameson waited a beat before he answered, “Five months. It’s his North American tour.”
Daisy knew what he was really asking: Will we be okay? She also knew she had time—time to brace, to continue growing the roots that hold when someone you love is far away. “I want you to be excited,” she said. “Will I miss you? Yes. But this is your dream and I support you. One hundred percent.”
“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”
Daisy laced their fingers. “It’s huge, Jameson—now I want you to tell me everything about LA.”
His smirk returned. “I was thinking we could do something else before we talk.”
Daisy quickly caught on to his suggestive tone.
She arched a knowing brow, lifting the hem of her shirt just enough to flash black lace. “And what did you have in mind?”
“You’re gonna kill me, Daisy,” he murmured, laughter in his voice as they tipped back into each other, the studio once again their small, perfect world.