Chicago, Break the Chains Tour, 2018

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The afterparty was in full swing. We were crashing at some rented mansion in Chicago. A massive, sprawling place that still somehow felt homier than the endless line of hotels we’d been living in. God, I was so sick of hotels.

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The house was packed. Crew, backup dancers, singers, roadies, a few VIP stragglers from the show. It was late. Two in the morning, maybe. I was a few drinks in, lightheaded, buzzed. The adrenaline from the stage had burned off, but the energy of the night still thrummed in the air.

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Sal and Susie had claimed a couch, and I flopped down beside them with as much dramatic flair as I could muster.

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“How are you, sister of the moon?” Susie signed, holding her drink high so I didn’t spill it with my landing.

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“Buzzed,” I said with a grin. “But if I don’t find something to keep it going, I’m gonna crash hard.”

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“Why don’t you crash Liam and Jason’s little circle over there?” she signed back. “Sing us something.”

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I followed her nod.

 

Across the room, Liam was setting up with Jason, acoustic guitars in their hands. The two of them could jam for hours, trading riffs and solos like duelists, sparring until dawn. I watched a second too long, and of course, Liam caught me. He did a double-take, then smirked and gave me a lazy salute.

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I couldn’t help but return it.

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“No, no,” Sal cut in, wagging a finger. “She has to preserve the pipes. No singing. Tomorrow night’s another show. Preserve the magic, Emma.”

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“She’s right,” I sighed, leaning back.

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“Pfft.” Susie waved her off. “She can go all night and then some.”

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“That was before all our careers depended on my voice,” I teased, though the thought made a little spike of anxiety shoot through me. “Maybe I really should just go to bed.”

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“Liam can carry us with his vocals,” Susie signed.

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I squinted at her. “You’re drunk.”

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“She is,” Sal confirmed dryly.

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“I am!” Susie admitted cheerfully. Then she hopped up, swaying. “Let’s dance.”

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“No,” I groaned. “My feet are killing me.” I lifted one in my oversized cushioned slippers, the only thing I could get away with wearing tonight. “These are all I can handle right now.”

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“Ah, come on, Emma,” Susie signed, tugging at my arm.

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Across the room, Liam and Jason had slipped into their own little world. Strumming an acoustic track I could only assume they’d written together. Their voices blended in easy harmony, trading verses and choruses like they were passing secrets back and forth.

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“See?” Susie signed again, hauling me up before I could protest. She bounced to the rhythm, hips swaying, and Sal joined her almost instantly. My feet were still killing me. With a groan I gave in, dragging myself up to dance with them. 

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Liam’s smile widened, just barely, but enough for me to notice. I shot him a look across the room, catching the spark in his eyes. Jason only shook his head, grinning.

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“You’re a machine, Hartgrave,” he laughed between lines.

 

Liam started singing.

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I caught the chorus and couldn’t help myself. I slid into higher harmonies over the top, threading my voice between his.

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“Ohhh, there she goes,” Sam, Jason’s drummer, called out, grinning like a fool.

 

Liam shook his head, reading the lyrics and still playing, but then he broke into a string of vocal runs so smooth they sent a thrill straight down my spine.

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“Oh, yes, Teller!” I shouted, throwing my hands up as I danced with Sal and Susie.

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The backup singers joined in, layering harmonies, and suddenly the whole room was pulsing. People clapped along, cheering, and a couple of the dancers jumped in, breaking out their sharpest moves. Josh, of course, owned the floor like always.

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The energy was electric, pure creative synergy. A room full of artists at the top of their game, feeding off each other, making magic just for the hell of it. I loved this feeling. There was nothing like it.

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When the song ended, the room erupted in cheers, everyone applauding each other like we’d just played an encore on stage.

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Liam stood, guitar still slung across him, and I moved toward him, a grin on my face.

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“Beautiful,” I said.

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Before I could say more, Carrie, one of the backup singers, who clearly had a crush on Liam (but then, who didn’t?), swooped in.

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“Teller,” she cooed, “they’re playing spin the bottle upstairs. Come.”

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“Nah, that’s not my thing.” He tugged at the front of his shirt awkwardly, the other hand clutching the beer one of the roadies had just passed him. “Cheers, mate,” he added quickly, tipping the bottle in thanks.

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“Emma, come on, make him come,” Alex whined, pouting at me. “He needs a little fun. He’s all work, all the time.”

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I stammered, caught off guard. “I like that Liam likes to play instead of—”

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Before I could finish, they yanked him away. Three of them pulling him like he was their prize catch.

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“Okay,” I muttered, half amused, half annoyed.

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But Liam clawed his way free, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me along with him.

“Teller... no,” I protested.

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“Too bad, Hartgrave,” he shot back with a grin. “If I’m getting pulled into this, so are you.”

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I shook my head, digging in my heels. “This is not a good idea.”

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The last thing I wanted was to sit through him locked in a closet with someone like Claire while they giggled and tried to make out.

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No, thank you.

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We were dragged down the hall into another room, where Dan and Max were holding court like a pair of drunken jesters.

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“Alright, listen up,” Dan slurred, pointing to his fingers and mouthing the words so everyone got it. “Five. Minutes. In. The. Closet.”

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I arched a brow. “So this is just five minutes in heaven, then?”

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Dan and Max both clocked Liam and me at the same time. Their eyes went wide.

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“Oh no! Absolutely not!” Max threw his arms out. “You two can not play. Last thing we need is you disappearing into a closet together for five bloody minutes.”

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“No, let them,” Claire and Alex chimed, all faux-innocent smiles. “Anyone can play, right?”

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“Yasss,” Josh sang out, grinning wickedly. “Please, we need some drama in this game.” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “Come on, Hartgrave. Don’t deprive us.”

 

He was definitely up to something. I smirked, shaking my head but playing along.

 

“Fine!”

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The room erupted in cheers.

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Liam immediately grabbed my hand and pulled me down into the circle, placing me right across from him. His green eyes gleamed, a little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

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Dan squinted at the two of us. “No funny business, you two. Band rules.”

 

The entire room booed.

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I chuckled, biting my lip, while Liam just shook his head like he was already plotting to break every single rule.

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Josh went first. The bottle landed on Claire, one of the backup dancers.

The room erupted in oohs and aahs.

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“Come on, Claire. Let me show these straights how it’s done,” Josh said, grinning.

Claire cackled and looped her arm through his. They both waved dramatically, mischievous grins plastered on their faces as they disappeared into the closet.

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I shook my head, but Liam’s grin was wide and unguarded. It made my chest ache.

 

God, I loved that smile. It melted me every time. I realized I was staring too long, tucked my hair behind my ears, and forced myself to move things along.

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“Okay, while they’re… doing whatever, someone else spin.”

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“Patience, Emma,” Dan scolded.

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“There are two closets in this room,” I shot back. “Plus a bathroom. We could move this along.”

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He shook his head like I was missing the point. “Them emerging to their waiting peers is part of the game. The embarrassment of it all.”

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I rolled my eyes. “Dan, we’re in our twenties, not middle school. Nobody here thinks kissing gives you cooties.”

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“Fair point,” he conceded. “Fine. Since you’re so impatient... Emma, you spin.”

 

“Nope,” Max cut in. “Rules are rules. We go clockwise. Which means—it’s Liam’s spin.”

 

“Yep,” Liam said, smug as hell.

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Before I could protest, before Dan could argue, before I could even figure out what excuse I’d use if he landed on someone else. He snatched up the bottle and spun it like his life depended on it.

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The green wine bottle spun round and round, the glass catching the light as it wobbled across the hardwood. I don’t think I’ve ever willed an inanimate object so hard in my life. Anywhere but Alex. Or Sarah. Or Monica. Hell, any of the girls in this room. Please, God, land on Caleb. Caleb was safe. Caleb was one of the backup dancers.

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The bottle slowed. Stopped.

On me.

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The room erupted.

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“Nope,” Dan shouted instantly. “Do over. Do over!”

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“Absolutely not,” Liam cut in, already on his feet. He grabbed my hand before I could even process what happened and hauled me up with him. In two strides, he was pulling me across the room.

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The crowd howled. Dan and Max lunged like linebackers.

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“Five minutes!” Dan bellowed as Liam shoved open the door to the ensuite bathroom. “And no blowing up the band!”

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The cheering only got louder as the door slammed behind us.

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We burst out laughing, bent over, breathless, like we’d just pulled the greatest heist of our lives.

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“Did you plan that?” I asked, half-gasp, half-laugh.

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“Yes. Absolutely,” he said without hesitation, grinning like a devil. “I’ve got a technique. Works every time.”

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I clutched my stomach, laughing. “You’re devious, Teller. I didn’t know you were a spin-the-bottle shark.”

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He leaned against the counter, smug. “My brother’s Dan, Em. Do you know how many times he’s busted out this ridiculous game? Every time there’s a girl, guy, or person he’s into, it’s spin the bottle. I started honing my skills.”

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“Teller,” My laughter softened, thinned. Because… damn. 

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His grin faded too, the air shifting between us. Like magnets, we leaned closer, pulled by something we’d both stopped pretending wasn’t there.

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“Well,” I whispered, voice softer than I intended, “now we’re locked in a bathroom for five minutes.”

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He nodded, stepping into my space, his breath brushing my cheek.

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“Teller…” I tilted my head, eyes flicking to his mouth. “Did you want to be locked in here with me so we could make out guilt-free for five minutes?”

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“Stop talking, Hartgrave,” he murmured, low and rough. “You’re wasting precious seconds.”

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And then his hands were on me, cupping my cheeks, pulling me in, claiming me. His mouth crushed against mine in the most devastating kiss.

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I melted into him like liquid heat, the dam breaking, all restraint gone. It built fast. Too fast. Became something unbearable. Teeth clashing, breath catching, hands clutching at anything to anchor ourselves. I was drowning in him, his warmth, his scent, the taste of him, everything I’d missed. Everything I loved.

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Houston flashed through me like lightning. The weight of him, the way it felt to finally have him.

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The kiss turned frantic, clawing, desperate, like we could devour each other and it still wouldn’t be close enough. Then he did what I’d been aching for. 

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His hands slid down, gripping my ass before he lifted me and set me on the bathroom vanity. His body between my thighs, pressing into me as we moved against each other like we were starving. I could feel him, hard and ready, right there. I ground against him and he growled into my mouth, not breaking the kiss for a second.

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His hand found my breast, squeezing, and I grabbed his hand, urging him harder. Then his palm dragged back over me, down between my thighs. The seam of my jeans did all the friction work as he pressed just right, sending a sharp bolt of pleasure through me.

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We broke apart, gasping. Too far. Way too far.

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“Fuck,” Liam breathed, forehead pressed to mine, eyes squeezed shut. He kissed me again, softer this time. “God, what is it about you, Hartgrave? I have no fucking control.”

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“I know,” I whispered, chest heaving. “Me either.”

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“We have to stop.”

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I nodded, even though every nerve in me screamed otherwise. “Yeah.”

But dammit, I didn’t want to.

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We had to walk out there looking like we hadn’t just been dry-humping on a bathroom counter. Dan’s words about embarrassment being part of the game rang through my head and I swallowed hard.

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Liam brushed his thumb across my lips, fixing the smear of gloss. I wiped the shimmer off his mouth in return. My chin burned raw from his stubble; he was glistening with my lip gloss. We looked like we’d gone through a wind tunnel of bad decisions.

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That’s when Dan tried to barge in. A couple of dancers caught him, dragging him back, laughing. “No, no... five minutes, that’s the rule! Everyone only gets five minutes!”

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I hopped off the counter, pulling myself together, while Liam straightened slowly, raking his hand through his hair like he hadn’t just nearly lost his soul between my thighs.

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Max appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, gaze narrowed. “Time’s up. That’s all you two get.” He jabbed a finger at us both.

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We lifted our hands in mock surrender, bolted past him, and made a break for it. We raced past Max, down the stairs and escaped straight out onto the back porch by the pool deck.

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Leaning against the railing, we looked down at the chaos. The dancers, the crew, half-drunk musicians turning the pool into their stage. The mayhem of it all.

 

And then we started laughing. Hard. The kind of laugh you can’t stop once it starts, the only release for the fire still burning in your veins.

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When it finally slowed, we just stood there, breathing in the night air side by side, letting the heat between us simmer instead of ignite again.

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Jason came barreling out, grinning. “There you two are. Done being middle schoolers? Band wants to take a swing at 'Free Bird.' You up for it, Teller?”

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Liam leaned back on the railing, smirking. “Born ready, mate. We’ll be there in two.”

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Jason arched a brow at us. “Well, hurry it up. Sam's itching to unleash on the drum solo.” He disappeared back inside, leaving us on the porch.

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“We?” I asked, tilting my head at Liam.

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“Oh, yeah.” He jerked his chin toward the house, that sly grin tugging at his mouth. “If I’m getting dragged into a Lynyrd Skynyrd jam session, you’re coming with me. Wouldn’t be here without you. Wouldn’t want to do any of this without you.”

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My chest tightened, warmth blooming under my ribs. I smiled so wide it hurt. “You won’t ever have to.”

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“Promise,” he said, voice low and steady, like a vow.

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“I do. Just don’t go falling for some other girl during Dan's elaborate drinking games, Teller. Or making me wait outside while you make out with them in closets.”

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“I wouldn’t even dream of it. My dreams are reserved for you,” His gaze caught mine, unflinching. 

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“Smooth.” 

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“And you’re stuck with me. I don’t plan on letting you go very far. ”

 

“I don’t consider it being stuck. Lucky, maybe.”

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His smile spread wide, bright and devastating. We looked at each other for a long, charged moment.

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“Come on, then,” he finally said, tilting his head toward the door.

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“Wait,” I grinned. “Isn’t the solo for 'Free Bird' like… five minutes long?”

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“Four and a quarter, actually.”

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I groaned. “Oh my God. You expect me to stand there and watch you finger-blast a guitar for four freaking minutes after a game of five minutes in heaven with you? I am not that strong a woman, Teller.”

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Liam shook his head, eyes wide. “You’ll live, Hartgrave. I’ve survived you twerking in front of me almost every night. Trust me, I've seen first hand what you can endure.”

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“You cheeky—” I shot back, scandalized. “This from the man who just dragged me into a bathroom and nearly soloed me into ec—”

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He clapped a hand over my mouth, grinning wickedly. “Pact. I’m enacting it right now. What happens in Chicago stays in Chicago.”

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I arched a brow, my voice muffled under his palm. “Fine. We can say things like, we’ll always have Chicago.”

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He leaned in close, impossibly close, his hand still over my mouth. His breath grazed my ear as he murmured, “Chicago, Manchester… and good ole Houston.”

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Heat shot straight through me. I narrowed my eyes. “You... you just couldn’t help yourself, could you, Teller?”

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I swatted at him, but he dodged easily, laughing, jogging ahead as I chased him back inside.

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We’d always have Houston. And now… we had Chicago, too. And that was how it had to be from now on. A tour full of stolen cities. Stolen kisses. And a love built between the songs.