Page 64 of Two Hit Wonder

Iona laughed, and Maeve swallowed the sound, pulling her closer. Her hands found Iona's waist, then lower. Iona made a noise that short-circuited something in Maeve's brain. Fifteen years of careful, controlled solitude, and all it took was one sound from this woman to undo everything.

They were going to be sensible about this. Yeah. Right.

The door banged open.

"Forgot my jacket!" Cam announced, already halfway into the room. "It's the leather one, you know the one, I left it on the…"

She stopped. Stared. Her mouth fell open.

Maeve and Iona were frozen against the wall. Maeve's hand was somewhere it definitely shouldn't be in public. Iona's shirt had come untucked. Her hair was a disaster.

Three seconds of absolute silence.

Then Cam's face split into a grin so wide it looked painful. "Oh my GOD."

"Get out," Maeve said.

"I knew it! I KNEW it!" Cam was backing toward the door, but she was also laughing and possibly crying. "This is the best day of my life. This is better than when we went platinum. This is better than that time I met Cher in a bathroom!"

"CAM."

"Oh, don't mind me, carry on, pretend I'm not here." She grabbed her jacket from the chair without looking away from them, as if afraid the scene might disappear if she blinked. "This is magnificent. This is art. I'm going to remember this moment forever."

"There will be murder," Maeve said. "Yours. Soon."

Cam cackled and fled, slamming the door behind her.

The silence returned. Maeve and Iona looked at each other. The moment was gone, shattered into a thousand awkward pieces.

"Well," Iona said. She was flushed and rumpled and looked thoroughly kissed. "That happened."

"She's never going to let us forget this."

"Never. We'll be eighty and she'll still be bringing it up."

Maeve groaned. But she was also trying not to laugh. Of course Cam would barrel in at the worst possible moment. Nothing in her life had ever gone smoothly. Why would this be any different?

Iona tucked her shirt back in, smoothed her hair, and somehow managed to look composed again in seconds. A talent Maeve had always envied. "Raincheck?"

"Raincheck."

Iona kissed her once more, quickly, and headed for the door. She paused with her hand on the handle. "For what it's worth? Totally worth the interruption."

She was gone before Maeve could respond.

Maeve stood alone in the empty rehearsal space, heart pounding, lips still tingling. She thought about how much trouble she was in.

The good kind, maybe. If she didn't ruin it first.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The venue was called Churchill’s Black Dog, which Cam insisted was a reference to something unseemly, and Ellie had to tell her that it was a depression reference. Either way, the place was buzzing with the kind of energy that Iona found she’d been missing. A gig. A real gig. They were clawing their way back, and it felt… good.

"I've been in bigger lifts," Maeve said, eyeing the dressing room they’d been given.

"It's intimate," said Iona.

"It's a fire hazard."