Page 9 of Knot My Band: Part One
“Absolutely, we will take it,” Jack adds.
“Why don’t you like performing ‘The End Of Us?’” Chase asks.
Aiden elbows him hard in the stomach. I don’t tell them it’s because the song is about my ex.
I turn back to Trevor with wide eyes, ignoring that question. “Please, Trevor?”
His frown softens before he throws an arm around my shoulders. “I can’t say no to you, but ‘The End of Us’ stays in. You know the fans expect it. And I’m telling the crew to blame you for the longer set.”
I roll my eyes. “It was worth a try.”
“Wait, the crew can blame us, not Oli,” Jack says.
Trevor laughs. “Trust me, you don’t want the crew to hate you before you even start. They adore Oli, so this once, I will let her take the fall for you.”
They look unsure, so I change the subject. “What songs do you want to add?”
The four of them debate before settling on three songs.
“Great, I’ve provided all of you with sheet music and lyrics to the songs on the setlist. I will get these three new ones to you tomorrow,” Trevor says.
“Thank goodness. They’re going to need it,” I laugh, even as anticipation blooms.
Tension and guilt swallow the room, making me regret my words.
I turn to my microphone in the middle of the room, stepping away from them all.
Aiden moves to his keyboard, Chase to the drums and Jack to his guitar.
The first song on the setlist is one of my most popular. It’s anupbeat track full of energy and requires the guys to do backup vocals.
Chase starts the song, setting the rhythm with the drums. The beat throbs in my chest while Dax joins in. Finally, Aiden and Jack round out the sound, preparing for me to join in.
I sway to the music, letting it possess me. When I sing, I have to move.
The first lyrics of the song pour out of me. They stumble over some of the chords, but I think they might have actually gone home and listened to my music because this is going better than I expected.
We stumble through a bridge, my voice soaring high then dipping low, and they follow, a little rough around the edges.
The music swells, filling every corner of the rehearsal space, wrapping around us.
With each verse, my confidence surges, matched by the energy they pour into their instruments. Our sounds meld, reflecting our natural connection.
I’ve never created music this easily with anyone.
We work our way through the original setlist with minimal notes from Trevor. Even with only two weeks of preparation, I think we can pull this off.
The last note reverberates through the air, and my body buzzes from the rush of nailing the rehearsal with these alphas. The energy in the room is palpable, a living thing that dances between us.
“Great job, Oli,” Chase says, swaggering over with the confidence of a man who knows his allure. His drumsticks are still in hand, twirling with an effortless grace that’s sexy as hell.
“Thanks! We all did great. I can’t believe how well we areconnecting.”
“How about we all grab some dinner? My treat.” He tilts his head, his sandy waves catching the fading light.
“Sounds like fun,” I start, but then my gaze snags on Dax leaning against the wall, his arms folded tight across his chest, a storm brewing in his hazel depths. A scowl is etched into his rugged features, and it’s clear he’s not on board with the idea of bonding time.
“Let’s not pretend we’re some happy family,” Dax’s voice cuts through the warmth like a blade—cold, sharp, and unforgiving. “We’re here to make music, not friends.”
