27. Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Seven

Kendrick

The late afternoon sun spills through the living room windows, casting warm golden light across the floor. Cass is stretched out on the couch, his phone glued to his hand, his face creased in concentration. I watch him from the armchair, waiting for the right moment to ask.

“Busy?” I finally say, breaking the silence.

Without looking up, he just makes a noncommittal noise. “Derrick is trying to lock in tour dates. Feels like the whole damn world wants a piece of me right now.”

I hesitate, not wanting to interrupt, but then I decide to push forward. “How’s the band doing?”

That gets his attention. He glances up, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” I say, carefully casual, “do you guys ever hang out? Like, outside of shows and rehearsals?”

Cass sits up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really. Everyone’s so busy with their own lives. Rehearsals are rushed. Even at gigs, we’re all just in and out. It’s not like it used to be.”

“Like when we were starting out?” I ask, leaning forward.

“Yeah, it was once.” He smiles faintly, his eyes softening. “Back when we were putting the band together, we’d all hang out just to jam—no setlists, no pressure—just creating music for the hell of it. We’d play until we couldn’t keep our eyes open, laughing at each other’s mistakes. It was… a blast.”

I let his words sink in, nodding in complete understanding at the wistfulness in his voice. “Why don’t you do that anymore?”

Cass shrugs, looking out the window. “Life, I guess. There’s always something to do, someone to please. It’s hard to make time for it now because we’re all so busy.”

The nostalgic tone in his voice sparks an idea. “Maybe it’s time to bring it back.”

He raises an eyebrow, curious. “Bring what back?”

“You’ll see,” I reply, a plan already forming in my mind.

The next morning, I’m on a mission. I pull out my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I find Sam’s number.

“Hey, Kendrick,” he answers after the second ring.

“Sam,” I say, my excitement coming through the phone. “What do you think about a beach jam session? No pressure, no crowd—just the band hanging out and playing.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then he laughs. “Sounds like fun. Count me in.”

One by one, I reach out to the rest of the band. Luke, Vince, and Nate all say yes, their enthusiasm growing with each call.

By the time I finish, everything is set. The band is on board, the gear is sorted, and Cass has no idea what’s coming.

That evening, the sun is just beginning to dip toward the horizon, and the sky is being painted in shades of orange and pink.

“Okay, it’s time,” I announce. “Let’s all head down to the beach.”

“What’s going on?” Cass asks, his suspicion growing as I lead him past the deck and over the dunes. Cassidy finally lets out a giggle. She’s done well in keeping my secret all day.

“You’ll see,” I say noncommittally, trying to contain my grin.

When we round the corner, Cass’s steps falter. The entire band is there, setting up guitars and a keyboard on a large blanket. Nate adjusts a set of bongos, and Sam waves, a grin plastered across his face.

“What is this?” Cass asks, his voice tinged with surprise.

“It’s for you,” I say softly. “And for the band. I thought all of you could use a reminder of what you guys love about making music together.”

Cass stares at me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I think I’ve miscalculated. Then he turns, pulling me into a hug so tight I can barely breathe.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

I smile against his chest, relieved and happy. “Go. Enjoy yourself and have fun.”

As the sun sinks below the horizon, the music begins. Cass strums the first chords, and the rest of the band falls into place naturally. Their sound is softer, lower, and unpolished, but it’s beautiful—pure joy in every note.

I sit on a blanket nearby with Cassidy, watching her sway to the music. She’s mesmerized, her wide eyes fixed on her dad as he plays.

“This is so cool,” she whispers, leaning against me.

I nod, my chest tight with emotion. “It really is.”

The band moves seamlessly from one song to the next, transitioning from old favorites to improvised riffs. Laughter punctuates the music, the kind that comes from being completely at ease with each other.

A small crowd begins to gather nearby, drawn by their laid-back sound. Someone starts a bonfire a few yards away, its flames casting flickering shadows across the sand. The firelight mingles with the music, creating an atmosphere that feels almost magical.

The night is perfect until the flashlights appear. Two police officers walk toward us, their expressions stern.

“Uh-oh,” Nate mutters, his hands hovering over the bongos.

I glance at Cass, a knot of worry forming in my gut as I envision the headlines and the fit Derrick will throw. Cass sets down his guitar, stepping forward to meet them.

“Evening, officers,” he says, his tone polite.

One of them points to the bonfire. “You know bonfires aren’t allowed on the beach, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Cass replies, his voice steady. “Sorry, it wasn’t planned. We’ll put it out right away.”

The officer narrows his eyes. “You’re Cass Wild, aren’t you?”

Cass nods, a small smile playing on his lips.

The second officer steps forward, his demeanor less serious. “My daughter’s a huge fan. She’s been to your concerts. She loves your music.”

Cass chuckles, the tension easing. “Glad to hear that.”

The first officer exchanges a glance with his partner and then shrugs. “Listen, just keep it under control, alright? We don’t want any trouble.”

The second officer steps forward and asks, “Hey, could I get an autograph for my daughter?”

“You’ve got it,” Cass says, relief evident in his voice, as the officer hands him a pad and pen.

When they eventually walk away, the band erupts into laughter.

“That was close,” Sam says, shaking his head.

“Too close,” I mutter, but the grin tugging at my lips betrays my amusement.

The jam session resumes well into the night. It’s incredible how well I’ve come to know the band. Luke plays keyboard, and he’s always hungry. He and Sam are always cracking jokes. Neither of them seem to take anything too seriously. Vince, on the other hand, is more serious and quite grumpy until you get to know him. He plays guitar. Nate is their drummer. He’s different–quiet. He keeps more to himself, but I suspect he sees more than he lets on.

Tonight was a turning point–I feel like they’ve finally accepted that Cass and I are together. They may even suspect Cass’s relationship with Cassidy… but he hasn’t confirmed anything officially. But they aren’t stupid. They see his devotion to her, and it warms my heart.

I lean back on my arms, lifting my face to the dark sky, and let the music sweep over me.

After a while, the party begins to wind down with one final song, a slow, soulful melody that leaves everyone quiet and reflective. The fire crackles softly, its warmth chasing away the chill in the air.

Cass joins me on the blanket, his arm draping around my shoulders.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

“For what?” I ask, leaning into him.

“For this. For reminding me why I fell in love with music in the first place.”

I smile, my heart full. “Anytime.”

As the fire dies and the crowd begins to disperse, I watch Cass laugh with his friends–his bandmates, their bond as strong as ever. Tonight, they reclaimed something precious—their love of creating music together just for the sheer pleasure of it all.

As Cass wraps his arms around me, the music still lingering in the air, I know this is a moment we will all carry with us long after the fire fades.

The next morning, at breakfast, Cass gives me a grateful smile. “Thanks again for last night. It was just like old times, except this time you were there–and that made it perfect.”

Giving him a warm smile, I lean over and kiss his shoulder just to show how much his words mean to me.

“Kendrick, we have the music awards coming up. I want you to go with me.”

My eyes widen in surprise, and I glance up at him. “Cass, are you sure?”

“Completely sure,” he assures me with a sincere smile.

“But the press, the paparazzi–” I begin to protest.

Cass cuts me off. “I know. But I still want you with me. It’s an important night for me–for any singer, and I want you by my side.”

I search his face for any trace of hesitation, but all I see is unwavering certainty. My heart swells at his words, and I can’t help the soft smile tugging at my lips.

“If you’re sure, then I’d love to go,” I say, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest.

Cass’s grin widens, and he reaches across the table, his fingers finding mine in a firm but gentle grasp. “Then it’s settled. We’ll face the chaos together.”

The warmth of his touch grounds me, but my mind is already spinning with the implications of being seen at such a high-profile event. The music awards aren’t just about celebrating talent—they’re a spectacle, a public stage where every move and glance becomes fodder for headlines.

“You know that will spark speculations, Cass,” I murmur, voicing the concern lingering in the back of my mind. “About us.”

He doesn’t waver, his gaze locked on mine. “Let them ask.”

It’s such a simple statement, yet it carries a weight that makes my throat tighten. I squeeze his hand, letting the moment stretch between us. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Cass’s smile turns boyish, full of that infectious energy that first drew me to him years ago. “You won’t regret it.”

I let out a soft laugh, unable to resist his enthusiasm. “You better be right about that.”

After breakfast, Cassidy bombards her dad with questions about the ceremony. Her energy is contagious, and I find myself smiling despite her lingering nerves.

“Will there be other famous people there?” Cassidy asks, her eyes wide as she trails after her father.

“Plenty,” Cass replies with a chuckle. “And they’ll all be asking me who my beautiful date is.”

Cassidy laughs, glancing at me with a mischievous grin. “That’s Mom, right?”

“Of course it is,” Cass says, his voice firm as he ruffles her hair. “No one else could even compare.”

His words fill me with bravery and confidence. I’m determined not to let him down.

The next afternoon, I find Cass in the living room, strumming his acoustic guitar. His fingers move effortlessly over the strings, coaxing out a soft, melodic tune that fills the room with a sense of calm.

I lean against the doorway, watching him for a moment. “Is that new?”

He glances up, a smile tugging at his lips. “Just a tune I’ve been playing around with.”

“It’s beautiful,” I say, moving to sit beside him on the couch. “Does it have lyrics?”

“Not yet,” he admits, setting the guitar down. “But it feels like it should.”

I nod, the melody lingering in the air between us. “It sounds hopeful–like another love song.”

Cass tilts his head, considering my words. “Yeah, maybe it is.” His gaze shifts to me, and there’s a softness there that makes my breath catch. “You’ve been inspiring me a lot lately.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, and I duck my head to hide my smile. “Stop.”

“I’m serious,” he says, his voice low and earnest. “You remind me why I started doing this in the first place. It wasn’t about the fame or the awards. It was about the music. The connection.”

I look up at him, my chest tight with emotion. “That’s why I planned last night,” I confess. “I thought you needed a reminder of that. Not just with the music but with the people who mean the most to you.”

He reaches out, tracing the curve of my face with his fingers. “You have no idea how much that meant to me. To all the guys.”

I lean into his touch, letting his words wash over me. “I just want you to be happy.”

“You do that every day, Kendrick,” he murmurs, his hand lingering against my cheek. “Even when you don’t realize it.”

We sit there for a moment, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the space between us. It’s a quiet kind of intimacy, the kind that doesn’t need grand gestures or declarations. Just being together is enough.