Graduation and Gifts (Untouchable Book 8) Heather Long (reading tree .TXT) 📖

everyone hurrying, I was loose and relaxed. Anytime my nerves started, all I had to do was look at Ian, and my body seemed to understand that relaxing was the only choice.

I still wasn’t ready when they announced this was their final show and waxed nostalgic. I swore there were hints of tears in my eyes as I listened to them talk about what being Torched meant to them.

Those tears were still there when they introduced us onto the stage, and then we were out there, under the lights, and my heart fisted in my chest.

I could do this.

We could do this.

Over the crowd screaming, I still caught Rachel’s “Yes, bitch!” from the wings, along with the whistles from Coop and Jake. Archie’s gaze warmed my back almost as much as the lights in front of us. When the first chord was struck, I glanced from KC’s grinning face to Ian’s nod.

Yeah, we could do this.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Make Your Own Kind of Music

Ian

Frankie had been fighting nerves about the stage since the first day we came to hang out with the girls for the soundcheck. The fact she’d thrown up was our first clue. When it came to protecting others, our girl was fearless. But her own nerves? Those were harder to pin down.

All the sex in the world wouldn’t chase them away, but the ropes and the knots? They melted the tension out of her frame. The denied orgasms refocused her. Then the orgasms loosened her muscles. Still, the tension was present when we stood off to the side of the stage.

They wanted to bring us out at the end of the show. Go out with a bang, KC said, and break all the concert rules. Because this was the last concert on their contracts. Personally, I agreed with Frankie—KC, Aubrey, and Yvette needed a few weeks of doing nothing as soon as this was done. I couldn’t blame Frankie for being worried about how much weight she’d lost. The girl was practically skin and bones.

I had my guitar strap on, and I was ready for this. We’d let the girls offer suggestions on what to wear, but I’d settled for the muscle shirt with the Torched logo on the front in teal and jeans. Frankie had teased me that I looked a little like Bruce Springsteen.

No complaints here.

She’d gone with ripped jeans, a crop top, and a bright red baseball cap. The latter was from Archie. Red was her lucky color and his. The crop top bared her navel, which she’d informed us she wanted to pierce. I wasn’t the only one who’d gotten interested in the idea.

But that was for later. When we were back in the States.

So much was for later—the new place in the city, college, recording music, writing more music, building our new lives. Warmth settled in my chest. So much of that included unknowns, but I was ready for it. We had found a way to balance all of this. My need to take care of her and Archie’s desire to fix everything too. Jake’s and Coop’s needs to share her and protect her also added to the mix.

There were so many little things tying us together, but our competing desires also let us find common ground. Archie wanted to know more about the lifestyle, so did Jake. Coop was more than willing to learn alongside Frankie, but with her, and she wanted it all.

The girls began to talk about what Torched meant to them, from the beginning to this final tour before they took time off. They were closer than blood, and sometimes they wanted to draw each other’s. There was laughter rippling across the crowd. But they wouldn’t change any of their experiences, including meeting this duo and their family on one of their tour stops, and it was their pleasure to introduce us for the first time.

Frankie’s eyes widened. Fear and apprehension flashed through her tears. But when her gaze locked on mine and I evened my breathing, she took in a deep breath and then let it out.

If I was grateful for no other part of how far we’d come and how much she trusted me, this would have sealed it. The fear abated, the apprehension relaxed, but the tears, they were apparently not going anywhere.

I could live with that. The guys began to whistle, and Rachel yelled as the floodlights sought us out, and I caught Frankie’s hand in mine and walked her out.

Holy shit, the wall of sound from the crowd crashed into me, along with the heat from the lights and the smell of sweat. But beyond all of that was the energy buzzing over my skin. Frankie’s smile grew wider as KC welcomed us out with hugs.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my rare pleasure to say I knew them when, and we get to pass the torch on to two of the most talented and genuine people I’ve ever gotten to know.” The last bit she said as she cast a look at Frankie. “And to the girl who writes the best emails and is living her best life—you inspire me. Now,” KC continued with a huge grin as she faced the crowd, “I hope they inspire you. Everyone, Bound Hearts is here to stay, and remember—you heard them with us first.”

Honestly, hearing the name we’d picked out called for the first time seemed to make it tangible. Beyond that, the smile that exploded across Frankie’s face echoed my own. Hell yes, we were here to stay. If this was our only live performance ever, we were going to make it count.

The crowd surged with cheers, shouts, and applause, just as the band kicked off the first chord as I swung my guitar around. One of the grips ran over and attached something to the mouth of it to let me join them, even though I preferred my acoustic to the electric, and Frankie accepted KC’s outstretched hand to dance with her as we