Page 11 of To the Moon and Back

“So it’s on. Now. So listen, dance, sing.” Rich gestured to my headphones. “This is our moment at Rhythm-Fest.”

Nial gestured around. “And everyone in here is listening to us, loving us. Embrace it, sweet cheeks.”

I didn’t need to be asked twice. I put on my headphones, my love for Nial and Rich and what they’d done almost bringing tears to my eyes.

“Never gonna tear us apart, baby, yeah, yeah, yeah!” I sung enthusiastically and in time with my own voice. It was crazy cool to be doing so. My skin tingled and I lived and breathed every moment. “To the moon and back, for all of time, yeah, yeah, yeah!”

Rich’s fabulous solo on the guitar had me jumping up and down, spinning in a circle. Giddy and high with life.

The chorus started again, Nial’s expert drumming accompanying my voice.

“You and me together, forever, yeah, yeah, yeah! You and me together, forever yeah, yeah, yeah!”

I hit the last note perfectly, and I knew it. I smiled and tipped my head from left to right and skipped on the spot.

When the track ended and a new one slipped seamlessly through the headphones, I stopped and opened my eyes. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them.

Standing right in front of me was Chris Harlow, still with a baseball cap on but minus his shades.

My feet suddenly felt rooted to the spot. My mouth fell open and my gaze connected with his.

He was studying me with a slight smile tilting his sexy lips and his dark eyes were boring into me.

Behind him I spotted Nial and Rich stilling, removing their headphones and, for the second time that day, sharing a look.

Only this time I knew what they were thinking.

What the hell is the lead singer from Scarlet Men doing here?

I removed my headphones, the silence loud.

All around people continued to dance to a song I could no longer hear.

“Hello again,” I said, heat traveling through my body. He was so damn gorgeous it shouldn’t be legal.

“How come you know the words to that song?” he asked. “It’s never been released—or so Dizzy told me earlier when I was listening to his playlist with him.”

“Which song?” My mouth was dry, my breaths hard to catch.

“The one that was just on, the moon and back song.”

“What, that one? That little thing?” I giggled nervously and rolled the headphones around my hands.

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh, er, because I wrote it, I guess.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Youwroteit?”

“Yeah. It’s what I like to do, write and sing, you know.”

“Yeah.” His smile widened. “I do know. It’s what I spend most of my time doing.”

“I can imagine…Chris.”

He chuckled then, as though finding it amusing that I knew who he was. Why he was surprised I had no idea. He was one of the most recognizable faces in the British music industry scene right now.

“So what’s your name?” he asked.

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