“Can you imagine? All of us in a house near the sea. Sharing songs, fucking each other. Touring. Raising babies.
“Don’t forget, baby, it may not be easy to convince him. He walked away.” Linus shifts me in his lap. Guides his cock insideme.. “I’ve contacted him many times over the years. Now there’s so much more on the line.”
“Try again,” I whisper, rocking against him. “You love him. You always have. I think he still loves you. Maybe he’ll love me too.”
Linus surges up to meet me, kissing me so deep it cracks something open in my chest.
“I miss him so fuckin’ badly some days.” His thrusts grow sharper. “But you have to know. You and I are solid. No matter what goes down, we’re real.”
His fingers slide between us, circling my clit.
“Nnnnngggggg.” I clutch his shoulders.
“I’m not risking you for stupid mind games,” he whispers against my throat.
“Then we’ll show him.” My breath is ragged. “Not with words. Not at first. With songs. This summer. Let him see what you’ve built. The music I’m making. Let him decide for himself.”
“Then what?” Linus picks me up and sets me on the counter, never leaving my body.
“Then,” I wince with pleasure when he slams into me, “hopefully he’ll write our next verse.”
We come together, his moan buried in my mouth as he spills into me. My head rests on his chest, his palm traces lazy circles over my belly. Through the speakers, my new demo plays. A haunting ballad about how love can heal a painful past.
“You’re a fucking star,” Linus murmurs.
“I’myourstar,” I breathe. “And, you’re mine.”
“Forever.” He kisses me.
“Andalways.” My fingers slide through his hair. “Even if our universe adds one more.”
thirty-three
Linus
Three Months Later
Avonnadoesn’ttalkabouther newfound celebrity much.
Not in the way other people might.
She believes fame is something peripheral. It floats at the edges of her life like a mirage.
Oh, she’s grateful. Humbled. When she performs, I swear the world narrows to a single note. I’ve never heard anyone harness emotion the way Avonna can. Raw, bleeding, transcendent. Every song sounds like she’s shedding her skin right there under the lights. Baring her truth for anyone brave enough to hear it.
At the same time, the spotlight isn’t where she wants to be. She’d prefer to disappear into the music and be part of it.
Avonna’s first album is bigger than either of us dreamed. It’s charting across Ireland, the UK, Australia, and Japan. Her voice slips through speakers like a secret, spreading faster than we can track. Critics call it primal, ethereal, relentless.
What they don’t know, is it’s her truth.
Every note is a testament to her survival.
No one’s heard music like hers before because no one has lived in her shoes.
Invitations started to pile up throughout Europe this summer months ago. Festivals. Support slots. Showcases. Many of which include Fireball on the roster since they’re supporting LTZ in stadiums and have the ability to fill in the gaps with other appearances.
Somehow the opportunity feels less like coincidence and more like momentum pulling me and Avonna toward something inevitable.
