By: Jamie Shaw
Releasing July 21, 2015
From the moment she saw Shawn Scarlett perform at a school talent show, Kit Larson has loved two things: the guitar, and the gorgeous, green-eyed boy who inspired her to play. But one careless night in high school shatters her hope of ever being more than a notch on his bedpost.
Six years, two bands, and one mostly-mended heart later, Kit’s about to make her rock star dreams a reality as the new guitarist for Shawn’s band, The Last Ones to Know. He may not remember their reckless night together, but Kit has never forgotten… and she’s determined to make him eat his heart out.
The release of their new album means a month cooped up on a tour bus, sleeping inches away from the ridiculously sexy musician she’s never quite gotten over. And as Kit gets to know the real Shawn—not Shawn Scarlett, the rock god, the player—their attraction becomes too hot to resist. But the past is paved with secrets, and when they finally surface, Kit could lose everything: the band, the music, her dreams… and Shawn.
As the guys continue asking me questions—have I been in a band before, were we any good, why’d we break up—and I continue giving them answers—in college, we could have been better, because they wanted nine-to-five jobs—I wonder what would happen if Shawn would remember me. Would I be happy? Would he laugh it off? Would he apologize for breaking my teenage heart?
Any apology now would be too little, too late. It’d be meaningless—and so infuriating that I’d have to use my combat boots to do just what Kale told me to.
“And you’re sure this is what you want to do with your life?” Mike asks me, and I nod.
“More than anything.”
Satisfied, Mike turns to Shawn. “Anything to add? Or should we have her play?”
Shawn, who hasn’t said another word since asking me what year I was, rubs the back of his neck and nods. “Sure. Let her play.”
Taking my dismissal for what it is, I walk away and grab my guitar, sliding it onto the stage before hoisting myself up behind it. I force Shawn from my mind and get set up in record time, strapping my Fender around my neck and stepping up to the mic. As I adjust it to fit my height, the guys are all sitting at the tables, laughing and carrying on. All of them but Shawn, who is too bored with my audition to laugh along with the rest of them.
“What do you want me to play?” I ask, ignoring the way he’s staring at the table in front of him like it’s far more interesting than anything I could possibly do onstage.
“Your favorite song!” Adam shouts, and the butterflies in my stomach fade away as I concentrate on the music in my head. I think about my options for a moment before chuckling under my breath and stepping back. As soon as I position my fingers and pluck the E string, all six American Idol judges start to groan and I can’t help laughing.
“Just kidding!” I say into the microphone, knowing they must have heard “Seven Nation Army” by the White Stripes a hundred times by now by amateur guitarists. When I step away from the mic again, I smile down at my guitar, thinking about it for another brief moment before I begin playing “Vices” by Brand New. My fingers slide over the strings, the harshness of my chords assaulting the very foundation of the building we’re in and reminding me how much I’ve missed being onstage. With my old band, I played small venues to small crowds, but a stage is a stage, and a show is a show. Performing is in my blood now—like being A positive or B negative. I couldn’t forget what it feels like if I tried.
Born and raised in South Central Pennsylvania, Jamie Shaw earned her M.S. in Professional Writing before realizing that the creative side of writing was her calling. An incurable night-owl, she spends late hours crafting novels with relatable heroines and swoon-worthy leading men. She's a loyal drinker of white mochas, a fierce defender of emo music, and a passionate enthusiast of all things romance. She loves interacting with readers and always aims to add new names to their book boyfriend lists.
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