Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chrissy Cunningham dreamed of Woodstock.

She had read so much about the music festival in her youth. The balance of wild reverence towards nature, the emphasis on peace and love, the delirium of music and drugs across the green. She dreamed of the freedom Woodstock could give her, particularly in her lonely moments, when her mother was too much and her life was collapsing in on itself. It was a little silly to want to be a hippie, particularly the kind that her parents despised. But she didn’t care.

She was able to move away at eighteen. Years of babysitting money, scholarships, and the deep desire to get as far away from her mother as she could enabled her to do it. She moved to New York for college and never looked back, breaking all contact from her family.

Her twenties were hard. She balanced a full-time job with full-time university at NYU in the English Literature program. New York was a lonely place to be when you didn’t know anyone and Chrissy barely had time to make a living, let alone friends.

But she did it. She graduated with honors, she found work as a tutor for Upper West Side families, and she wrote poetry and essays, submitting them to everywhere that accepted them. After years and years of applying, she’d finally gotten a job reviewing children’s books for a literary and music magazine—something of a dream job for her, though she still hoped to publish.

When a coworker mentioned to Chrissy that a few of the music reporters were planning on going to Woodstock ’99 in Rome, New York, she was immediately interested. It had nothing to do with her job of course, and at 29, she half-wondered that she was a little old for a music festival. Her thirtieth loomed and she couldn’t quite escape the sound of her mother’s voice, telling her she was a complete and utter failure for not settling down.

Nevertheless…Chrissy decided that Woodstock ’99 would be her thirtieth birthday present.

She was mostly excited to see Sheryl Crow. But she was also looking forward to seeing Alanis Morissette, Jewel, and particularly…Willie Nelson. She had loved Willie Nelson as a child, loved hearing her father softly sing ‘On the Road Again’ to her before she fell asleep. Simpler times, before he had shut down on her, closed his eyes to her mother’s criticisms and snaps.

Chrissy glanced around herself. The sun baked the thousands of people on the asphalt unpleasantly and she wished she’d thought of wearing shorts—instead, she’d chosen a willowy skirt and a flowered crop top that showed off her belly button. (Something of a victory for her—Chrissy hated showing off her belly)

She was near the west stage, excitedly waiting for Sheryl Crow to make her appearance. She unscrewed her water bottle and took a deep sip—water bottles were stupidly expensive here, but she wasn’t willing to pass out in the middle of the pavement due to dehydration.

A topless girl blithely walked by her, causing Chrissy to choke. Nudity seemed to be encouraged—not that that was dissimilar from Woodstock, but somehow she hadn’t thought of how leering the men would be. As she made her way to the stage, several men yelled, ‘SHOW US YOUR TITS!’ and she tried her best to ignore them.

A familiar opening chord started and Chrissy cheered, recognizing the riff. Sheryl Crow stepped onstage, waving at the crowd, a smile on her face.

The smile faltered a little when several men shouted, “SHOW US YOUR TITS!”

“Show me your tits?” Sheryl Crow played it off. “You’d have to pay a lot more money than you did to see my tits.”

Chrissy laughed at that, but several men around her booed. Sheryl Crow ignored them, continuing into her next song with determination. A few men threw bottles at her.

Chrissy scowled at that. Where the hell was security?

🎸

It would not be the first time Chrissy wondered that. As the day passed and more musicians performed, the crowd got thirstier and more manic. Drugs were sold openly around Chrissy and by the time the sun started to fade in the west, the majority of people around her were blackout drunk.

Chrissy had had a drink, but at 29, she was very concerned about sunscreen and hydration, so she’d just kept refilling her water bottle. She was just considering finding her tent and taking a long rest when the announcer bellowed out:

“Give it up for…Corroded Coffin!”

She quirked her head. She was still fairly close to the stage. She’d never heard of the band before, but apparently she was in the minority—the crowd screamed in excitement, roaring at the sight of three young men crossing the stage.

The woman next to her, clad in a string bikini, shrieked deliriously. “I love you, Eddie Munson!”

Curious, Chrissy followed the drunk girl’s gaze…and that was when his eyes met hers.

She noticed his eyes first. Dark and soulful, deep and penetrating…her aunt would’ve called them ‘cow eyes’. His eyes widened a little towards her and he started playing an opening riff—something intense that made her bones vibrate.

He broke away from her gaze to bellow into the microphone. “How you doin’ tonight, Woodstock?!”

An explosion of screams answered him back. Chrissy changed her mind about returning to her tent.

“We’re Corroded Coffin!” He strummed a powerful chord in emphasis. “And we’re here to fuck your shit up!”

The crowd roared in response and Chrissy timidly cheered with them. She looked towards the drummer, expecting the downbeat, but the drummer was still watching the lead singer…what was it the girl had called him? Eddie Munson…

“But first!” Eddie yelled into the microphone. “My good friend Sheryl just told me you all were yelling at her to show her tits.”

The audience bellowed in laughter and Chrissy shifted uncomfortably. She looked towards Eddie to see where he was going with this, but to her surprise, he looked…angry.

“I don’t want to see you fuckers saying shit like that again,” He snarled and a silence fell over the crowd. “She is Sheryl fucking Crow and she deserves your respect. I better not hear any Corroded Coffin fans talking to women like that.”

A mutinous murmur crossed over the crowd. Chrissy’s heart swelled and she smiled as a man next to her kicked an empty beer can muttering, ‘it was just a joke.’

Eddie nodded towards the drummer and he kicked up the beat.

🎸

Chrissy could hardly be called a metal fan. She knew of Metallica and Iron Maiden by name and name alone. Corroded Coffin rang a slightly familiar bell, but aside from that, she had never heard their music.

But now, she could call herself a devoted fan.

Eddie was incredible at guitar. His riffs and solos were out of this world and she couldn’t stop staring at the way his fingers leapt across the fretboard. She felt incredibly grateful she was so close to the stage.

She knew she was crazy but it almost seemed…it almost seemed as though he were catching her eye with every new power chord and verse. She tried to get the thought out of her head. How many dumb young girls thought the lead singer was singing directly to them? She was being silly. But she couldn’t help it, any more than she could help the flush that traveled up and down her body.

Chrissy needed to lie down. It was all in her head. She was probably just dehydrated.

I’ll go lie down after Corroded Coffin finishes, she thought to herself. A sudden feeling of loss struck her—after they finished, she would never see the handsome Eddie Munson again.

God, could I be any more of a loser? She was acting like a fifteen-year-old.

Eddie announced their final song—something called ‘Set this Small Town on Fire’. She liked the symbolism of it—the singer feeling trapped in their small town, leaving it in ashes and dust. It was pretty clearly a metaphor for moving on to bigger and better things.

Unfortunately, the crowd began to take it literally.

Chrissy smelled the smoke before she saw it. She turned around and six or seven feet away, there people throwing bottles of alcohol into a huge garbage fire, scream-dancing around it as Corroded Coffin sang. She tried to back away from it but ended up getting pushed closer towards it.

Eddie stopped mid-song. “The fuck, guys?” He had noticed the fire and as Chrissy looked on, she started to realize there were more fires popping up in the crowd, people screaming and chanting.

A cacophony of boos resounded. Eddie flipped them off. This seemed to make the crowd angrier and they started throwing bottles.

The bassist approached Eddie and whispered in his ear. Eddie nodded and started a new song—something slower and more mellow. Chrissy realized this was a cover, a cover of a Bush song she actually liked—‘Glycerine’.

She swayed to the music, trying to ignore how rowdy the crowd was getting. She caught his eye again (she was imagining it, it wasn’t real, but couldn’t she daydream just a little? Couldn’t she pretend?) and the lyrics hummed against her skin.

It must be your skin, I'm sinkin' in
It must be for real, 'cause now I can feel
And I didn't mind, it's not my kind
It's not my time, to wonder why…

He was trying to temper the crazed energy of the crowd. Chrissy hoped it worked. His voice was like gravel and she hummed along with him, staring into his gaze, wishing she wasn’t imagining it.

Something hard shoved against her. Chrissy fell down. Her hands caught her and scraped along glass shards of bottle, tearing her skin. She cried out in pain and tried to stand, but the crowd shoved against her more fiercely.

They were getting wilder, more fierce. She couldn’t hear Eddie’s cover anymore, she could only hear the roars of the crowd and something that sounded like an enormous crash. The music had cut short. Chrissy tried to stand.

As she did, she realized what had caused the crash. One of the stage towers had been pulled to the ground—people were dancing on it, tearing off metal pieces and beating each other with it.

This was getting dangerous. Chrissy wanted to leave. She started to move away from the stage, trying to weave herself out—but someone snatched her upper arm.

It was a man in a bucket hat, eyes blurred and completely drunk out of his mind. She tried to shake him off.

“Get off me,” She pulled harder. “Let go.”

Instead of releasing her, he moved closer. His breath stank of cheap beer and rotting meat—it made her stomach turn. He pulled her towards him and started trying to take off her top.

“Stop it!” Chrissy shouted. “Get off me! Help! Help me!”

No one seemed to hear her—or worse, no one cared. She stomped on his sandaled foot hard, but whatever drug cocktail he was on seemed in inhibit his pain receptors. Her eyes filled with angry tears and she tried her hardest to punch him—

All at once, the drunk was knocked to the ground. Chrissy blinked, holding her top together—it had been ripped during the altercation. Eddie Munson stood over the drunk, breathing hard, guitar strapped to his back. The drunk was bleeding from the mouth and Chrissy dazedly noticed blood glinting on Eddie’s rings.

He whirled around to her. He did not ask if she was okay, did not say anything, only reached his hand out towards hers.

She took it.

This turned out to be the smart move. Eddie hopped back onstage within seconds before the crowd noticed his intrusion, helping Chrissy up too. He flipped the crowd off a final time and kicked the microphone on his way, leading her backstage.

🎸

His hand was sweaty; rings slick against her fingers. Chrissy tried to ignore just how attractive they felt on her skin. They were somewhere beneath the stage, closed off from the rest of the crowd. He finally turned towards her, eyes filled with concern.

“You okay?”

She nodded, pulling the ripped ends of her crop top a little tighter. A flare of anger flickered in his eyes and he paused for a second.

“Here,” He let go of her hand and she felt bereft at the lack of contact. But he pulled off his T-shirt and awkwardly handed it to her. She took it gratefully, sliding it over her small form. It was damp with sweat.

“I saw the whole thing,” Eddie shook his head tiredly. “Fucking dicks. I don’t know what drugs these kids are on, Jesus fucking Christ…”

“Th-thank you,” She whispered. “Thank you.”

And then she burst into tears.

It was intensely embarrassing, sobbing like a toddler in front of a rockstar who’d just rescued her from—she didn’t want to think about what could have happened. But to her surprise, he pulled her into a warm hug.

“Sorry,” He whispered. “So sorry. My concerts aren’t usually like that. Something about this fuckin’ place, the heat, the overpriced drinks, it’s making everyone nuts.”

“It’s not—your—fault,” She hiccupped against his skin. She noticed a black widow spider near his collarbone.

He hugged her tighter. “We should’ve backed out after Sheryl told us what happened. They’ve been psycho for hours.”

“Yo, Munson!”

Chrissy startled and made to move out of his arms, but he continued to hold her, looking up. A pretty young woman with a bright blue mohawk looked at them, but did not comment.

“Car’s here,” She told him. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. I told you Woodstock is always a mistake.”

Chrissy wiped her eyes and smiled at him gratefully. “You should—you should go. They’re going to be pissed that you just left in the middle of your set…”

“Who gives a fuck?” Eddie arched a brow. “Listen…I swear I’m not coming onto you. But do you wanna come with me? We’re just gonna get out of Rome, away from all these fucking idiots. Plenty of room in the limo.”

Insane. The proposal was insane. Then again, the last fifteen minutes had been utterly insane. One of the biggest rockstars in the world had punched someone out for her, pulled her onstage with him, and was holding her so gently, like she was made of porcelain.

The woman with a mohawk spoke. “He’s a good guy. I saw what was happening with you too. Wish I could say you were the only girl who’s been harassed in this fuckin’ place. You need some water, maybe some snacks. And a joint.”

Her comment was the deciding factor. She leaned against Eddie and nodded. “Okay.”

“Great,” He started to steer her towards the mohawk woman and then stopped short. “Um—by the way—what’s your name?”

She giggled. “I’m Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham.”

He held out his hand. “Eddie Munson.”

She took it and squeezed, butterflies dancing up her spine.

Chapter Text

Chrissy had never been in a limo before.

Well, that wasn’t true. Her high school boyfriend had rented a limo for their prom. She had vivid memories of scooting as far as she could from him as he got progressively drunker as the night went on. The evening had ended with him throwing up on the way to the country club and Chrissy apologizing profusely to the limo driver and offering to help him clean up.

Eddie’s limo was clearly not a rental for drunk high schoolers. It was spacious, with clean leather and chrome interiors, and, best of all, tinted windows. It was a relief to know that the angry crowd couldn’t see her. She shivered thinking about what could have happened to her…

“Oh!” Chrissy said suddenly and Eddie glanced at her. “My tent and things…I need to get it…”

“Where’s it at?” Eddie asked. “Can you show me on the map? I can have one of our guys pick it up.”

Chrissy examined his proffered map and pointed. “There, by the art wall! There’s not really anything in there except dirty laundry.”

“Got it,” Eddie rolled down the window and leaned out, speaking to a kid who looked to be in his early 20’s, gesturing to the map. Chrissy noticed several more tattoos down his back.

He settled back and tapped the partition window. “We’re ready, man, let’s get the fuck out.”

The limo started to move, slowly but surely. They were surrounded by swathes of people, most of them angry, drunk, and high. A few started throwing bottles at the window and Chrissy winced.

Eddie caught her eye. “Don’t worry. We’ve gotten out of tougher spots than this.”

“Where’s the rest of your band?” She asked curiously.

“In their own limos,” He replied promptly. “After years of dealing with their smelly asses in cramped tour buses, we now know each other well enough to stay the hell away from each other while traveling.”

Chrissy’s lip quirked. “Handy for getting girls to come with you, huh?”

Eddie barked out a laugh. “Okay, fair point. But I swear, I’ve never plucked a girl out from the crowd like that before.”

“So…why did you?”

He considered. “Honestly? I don’t really know. I just…noticed you. And then I saw the dick getting handsy and I…kinda lost it.”

She scoffed a little. “Come on. In a crowd of thousands, you noticed me?”

Eddie’s eyes went soft. “Yeah. I did.”

That electric current she’d felt during his song sparked through her all over again. Logically, she knew it wasn’t possible—he could not have just had this instantaneous connection with her. Stuff like that didn’t happen in real life. That was the stuff of love songs and fairy tales. Chrissy was not meant for either.

“Can I confess something to you?” She whispered.

“Of course.”

“Until today, I’d never heard of Corroded Coffin.”

He feigned a stab to the heart and slumped to the side of the limo. She giggled at that and leaned over, poking him in the ribs.

“Only known you twenty minutes and you’re already breaking my heart,” Eddie groaned. “I should’ve seen this coming!”

“I’m sorry!” Chrissy wailed. “I don’t really listen to metal!”

“Ooh, just twist the knife deeper, why don’t you?!” Eddie flopped like a dead fish. “Nothing? Not one song of ours?”

“I like…Sheryl Crow,” She confessed. “And Alanis Morrissette. Sad girl rock. If I can’t hear the lyrics…”

“You can hear the lyrics in metal,” Eddie defended. “Most of the time.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you were my first introduction to the genre,” Chrissy replied and a wicked thought crossed her mind. “You could say you…took my metal virginity.”

Heat flashed in Eddie’s gaze. She suddenly felt very warm in the limo, though the AC was running at full blast.

“Careful,” He said in a low voice. “Don’t tempt me, princess.”

She cocked her head. “I dunno…it seems kind of fun. Tempting you.”

The fire in his stare did not abate. Chrissy reminded herself that he was a rockstar, she had known him for only twenty minutes, and nice girls from Indiana do not fuck musicians in the back of their limos, no matter how tempting the opportunity was.

The partition lowered briefly. “Mr. Munson? I’m sorry sir, but it’s going to be a little longer. We’re completely blocked in and they’ve started destroying more of the outlying fence.”

Eddie rubbed his eyes. “Sweet Jesus. Vixie was fuckin’ right, Woodstock is always a mistake.”

Chrissy shook her head tiredly. “I can’t believe everything is so out of control.”

He shook his head in disgust. “You know, we were invited to Woodstock ’94. But Vixie shut them down—we weren’t super big then, but they weren’t offering us anywhere near enough money. Turns out we made the right call—three people died, thousands of people were sent to the hospital, it rained the entire time…”

“Jesus,” Chrissy intoned. “What made you decide to do this one, then?”

Eddie raised and lowered one shoulder. “Oh, I don’t know. The promoters had some really impressive spiel about how this would be different since it was on an old airforce base—plenty more room, so the crowd wouldn’t be an issue. And they offered us a lot more money.”

He leaned his head back. “Vixie, being Vixie, said Woodstock was cursed and kept trying to dissuade us.”

“Well, I’m glad she didn’t dissuade you,” Chrissy remarked. “Otherwise I’d never have met you.”

“You’re definitely the silver lining,” Eddie agreed and she shivered, feeling that inexplicable frisson of electricity between them.

She licked her lips. “Um—could I ask kind of an embarrassing question?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you believe in…love at first sight?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she flushed. It was such a ridiculous question, considering the circumstances. But every time she looked into his warm hot chocolate eyes, she felt reality turning into fantasy in an instant.

His eyes sparkled. “I didn’t used to.”

She looked away. “I’m being—very silly right now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m 29,” Chrissy crossed her arms. “And I’m sitting in a limo with a rockstar I locked eyes with at a concert and I’ve known you for half an hour but I’m sitting here like…this is where I was supposed to be along…”

“If it makes you feel better,” Eddie commented. “I’m 31 and trying to figure out if I should kiss you or not because on the one hand, I don’t want you to think you’re just some groupie I’m trying to fuck, but on the other hand, I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone more badly in my life…”

Heat filled her cheeks and her gaze fell on his mouth. It wasn’t fair. He had such an intensely kissable mouth…

She had spent so much of her twenties working hard, paying her way through school, striving for as many scholarships as she could get. She’d never gotten a chance to make mistakes with guys she barely knew, because one mistake could topple over everything she’d worked for. But as she sat in the limo, watching him absently lick his lips, it occurred to her that she deserved this.

Fuck it.

Chrissy leaned towards him and pressed her lips to his.

It was all the permission he needed. He pulled her into his lap, fingers tangling in her hair. She moaned a little against his mouth and his tongue glided along her lower lip, requesting entry. He tasted like whiskey and nicotine and she immediately found herself getting addicted.

She sucked on his lower lip and she reveled in the sound of his hiss. He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her solidly against him, and the other cupped her breast. He pulled down her dress, his calloused fingers stroking her nipple gently. She shivered at the coolness of his rings, whimpering a little. She ground herself on his jean-clad thigh, desperate for friction.

“Fuck,” He murmured into her mouth.

Chrissy opened her eyes and reveled in how heavy-lidded his gaze was. He kissed her again, more desperately, and she let herself be consumed in the flavor of his tongue. His hair was softer than she imagined—and he grunted in the most glorious way when she ran her fingers through it.

“Um, sir—”

Chrissy yelped and Eddie choked out something in between a gasp and a laugh.

“Partition up, please!”

The driver quickly heeded this request. Chrissy burst into giggles and hid her head against his chest. He kissed her temple sheepishly.

At that moment, they both jumped to the sound of the car phone ringing. Eddie kissed her cheek and stretched out to grab it. Chrissy tried to remove herself from his lap so he’d have an easier time, but he held her fast.

“Hello?” He listened and nodded, fingers curling around the spiral cord. “Hey Vixie. Yeah, we’re almost out. We’ve been going two miles an hour, but we’re getting there.”

Eddie’s expression changed. “Shit, are you serious?”

Chrissy bit her lip worriedly.

“Fuck. Yeah, I’m no fan of cops but this is out of control…okay. We should be at the hotel in a couple hours.”

He hung up. She looked at him and he sighed.

“A bunch of idiots like…drove a van into one of the sets,” He said tiredly. “Vixie told me they got them to stop but when they opened it up…there was a passed out girl. Only fifteen. And some dickhead buttoning up his pants…”

Chrissy swallowed. “Oh God…”

“It’s been…fucking chaos all weekend, girls getting assaulted left and right,” Eddie muttered. His grip on her tightened and she shivered, wondering what might’ve happened if he hadn’t pulled her from the crowd.

“Thank you,” She whispered. “For getting me out of here.”

He kissed her neck and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

🎸

The rest of the limo ride was uneventful. Chrissy was shocked. Any other guy would’ve tried to pick up where they left off, but Vixie’s phone call seemed to have put Eddie in a brooding sort of mood. She remained in his lap however, his arms stroking up and down her arms gently, as they listened to David Bowie’s “Earthling” album all the way through.

When they passed over the river into New York, Eddie cleared his throat. “Um…do you want us to drop you off?”

Chrissy considered. “Would it be bad if I said…no?”

He smiled at her. “You want to come back to the hotel?”

She flushed at the starkness of the statement.

“Not to do anything,” Eddie amended. “Maybe just to…smoke a joint. Decompress. That kind of thing.”

Her lips quirked. “That’s it?”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean…it’s kinda up to you…”

He laughed a little and she was thrilled. He was a rockstar, had probably fucked hundreds of girls, and yet he was looking at her so shyly, as though he’d never asked a girl out before.

“Let’s go,” She requested. “To your hotel.”

Eddie smiled and pulled her into a kiss.

🎸

The Plaza hotel was a grand place that Chrissy had only ever seen in picture books. She was sure she’d walked by it a few times, but it was nothing compared to entering on Eddie’s arm. She tried not to let herself be overawed by the majesty of the place and squeezed his upper arm in tenderness.

The band had a suite. Chrissy half-wondered if Eddie would sweep her into his arms and go straight to the bedroom like an old movie—his gaze on her certainly suggested so. But as he unlocked the door to the suite, Vixie was in the kitchenette, fixing herself a drink.

“Eddie,” She nodded at him. “And…actually I didn’t get your name.”

“Chrissy,” Chrissy replied, flushing a little. “Um, Eddie said I could come by and…decompress for a little bit. I live in the city so I can just take the train home.”

Vixie smiled at her. “You’re not taking the train home.”

Chrissy wasn’t entirely sure if Vixie was guessing that she’d stay the night or if this was simply a gracious offer for a ride home. Either way, she blushed.

“Everything good?” Eddie asked.

“Yup,” Vixie confirmed. “Chrissy, Jared grabbed your stuff. It’s over there.”

Sure enough, her small tent, sleeping bag, and mesh bag of dirty clothes were stacked neatly against one of the ivory tables. It occurred to her that despite Eddie hands and mouth being all over her recently, she rather wanted a shower.

“Um…do you think it’d be all right if I took a shower?” Chrissy requested.

“Of course,” Vixie answered for Eddie. “Just over there. Enjoy yourself. Eddie and I are gonna have a chat in here.”

The look on Eddie’s face clearly said he would vastly prefer to join Chrissy in the shower, but he flopped on the large couch with a sigh. Chrissy went to her things and pulled out her ziplock of toiletries and a change of clothes, padding over to the shower.

🎸

When Chrissy came out, wearing a black lacy camisole and her favorite blue jeans, she paused at the low sound of Eddie and Vixie’s conversation.

“All right,” She heard Vixie say. “I’m out. Don’t be stupid tonight. We’ll check out of here on Sunday.”

“I’m never stupid,” Eddie said, his tone offended.

“I’m serious, Ed,” Vixie’s voice was stern. “She seems like a sweet girl. Don’t forget we’re leaving for Berlin on Sunday.”

Chrissy felt her heart sink slightly. There was another pause. “I know.”

She heard the sounds of Vixie’s motorcycle boots clomping across the suite and the door shutting and closing. Chrissy took a deep breath and revealed herself, smiling a little half-heartedly.

“Hey you,” His face warmed at her approach. “Feel better?”

“Much,” She took a seat next to him. “Do you want to shower?”

Eddie smirked. “Is that your way of telling me I smell?”

She blushed crimson. “No!”

Logically, he probably should, but somewhere between sitting and making out with him the entire car ride to New York…she smiled and took a seat next to him on the couch. She liked the way he smelled, sweat and dirt and weed…

He gazed at her and she tilted her head. “What?”

“I do need a shower,” He smirked. “Want to join me?”

She pushed his shoulder. “I literally just got out!”

“So?” Eddie countered and she found she could not come up with a reasonable response to this. He kissed her roughly and she tasted salt and soap on his lips.

He pulled her off the couch, gently guiding her to the bathroom. She stopped short, noticing one of the most prominent features of the suit—the large, almost pool-sized jacuzzi in the second bathroom. It was tiered, with brick steps up to the tub and overlooked Central Park. She glanced at him and bit her lip.

Eddie immediately cottoned on and his eyes grew bright. He gave her one more lingering kiss before regretfully releasing her to turn the water on. He did so, pouring a glass bottle of bath salts inside and smirked.

Chrissy smirked back. She unbuttoned her jeans and slid out of them. She hesitated for a moment—just a moment, as she made to remove her camisole. His eyes were greedily watching her unclothe and she felt a bloom of pleasure erupt in her chest when he muttered, “Fuck.”

Worshipful. Adoring. She had never had a man look at her that way. Jason had been unaware of her issues with her body and the few times they were together, it was brief, unremarkable, and a little uncomfortable. Chrissy had been with a few men here and there, but never lasting, always in the cover of darkness, never in such a stark and frank way. But somehow, with Eddie…

His hand reached out and he pulled her towards him. She melted into his arms, gasping a little as his hands palmed her breasts. His lips nipped and sucked along her collarbone, leaving small marks—her skin always bruised like a peach.

The tub was full. She broke away from him, just for a moment, to turn the water off. Taking a deep breath, she shimmied out of her panties and stepped into the jacuzzi, smiling at him invitingly. The water was wonderfully hot and when she touched a small switch, they started bubbling. It felt amazing and Chrissy realized that sleeping on the hard ground had made her muscles quite sore.

Eddie’s gaze never left hers. He undid his belt and kicked himself out of his own jeans, sliding down his boxers. Her eyes immediately went to his fully erect cock. She could feel him smirking at her stare. A blush settled over her features.

He joined her in the tub. “Like what you see?”

“Yes,” Chrissy breathed. She lifted her hand, trailing streams of water as her fingers grazed against his jawline. His eyes somehow darkened, almost black as pitch.

She straddled his lap again, skin touching skin, and she felt him, hard against her abdomen. He growled low in her ear as she bit his earlobe, discovering the smallest tattoo right beneath it—it looked like a sigil. The jacuzzi roiled like a bubbling cauldron and Chrissy didn’t want to wait anymore.

Her hand ducked into the water to wrap around his cock. Eddie hissed through his teeth as she adjusted herself over him, smoothly letting herself sink down onto him. He was large, much thicker than she was used to—and it felt fucking amazing.

She paused for a moment, letting herself adjust to him. She pushed herself up, letting a slow rhythm begin, riding his cock. She filled herself with him, over and over, and she moaned at the fire in her belly.

Eddie groaned along with her, letting her set the pace, though by the way he jerked his hips, she felt certain he wanted her to go faster. She angled herself more closely, kissing him hotly as the shift in position allowed her to drive into him even more deeply. She kept the pace easy, gentle, working herself up to a faster ride.

She felt her fingernails bite into his skin and he responded by nipping the soft skin where shoulder met neck. She was sure to be hickeyed up tomorrow, like a love-drunk teenager. His hands found her hips and she felt her orgasm start to ride within her.

“Wait, wait.”

Chrissy couldn’t resist a whimper as he gently stopped her, sliding out of him. But his eyes were bright and there was a new glint of mischief in his expression that promised her they were not done.

“Turn around,” His voice was hoarse.

She obeyed and felt his arms wrap around her. He pushed her towards the edge of the jacuzzi, right against the jets. Chrissy gasped slightly as he moved her up, so the jet of bubbles hit right at her clit.

“Eddie—”

“I got you, sweetheart,” He whispered in her ear, his hot tongue sliding against her throat. “Trust me.”

He slid into her and Chrissy’s fingers scrabbled against the edges of the tile. It was almost too much, the jet stream of bubbles, his cock creating a new rhythm, the way he rocked her back and forth, just enough to keep her from exploding. His arm wrapped around her chest, tweaking her nipples in time with each thrust, and Chrissy moaned at the sensations. It was all too much, too much, the jet stream of bubbles, the way his cock filled her so completely, his ringed fingers on her breasts…

She curved her back into him, circling her hips as he thrusted. She kissed over his shoulder and he mumbled something into her neck—he seemed to be trying to go slowly, gently for her benefit.

“Faster,” Chrissy moaned. “Oh, God, Eddie, do it faster…”

He kissed along her back and his pace increased. He was far more erratic, jerking into her with little to no rhythm, occasionally breaking her contact from the jet stream on her clit. It seemed to simultaneously edge her while making her utterly desperate for him to go deeper.

Her orgasm took her by surprise. She found herself screaming, something she’d never done before in bed, as a lightning strike of pleasure swarmed over her, more powerful than anything she’d ever done to herself. Eddie continued to thrust into her, faster and faster, determined to make her ride every wave, until she heard him choke out her name into his own release.

He slid out of her and pulled her along with him, so she was seated on his lap in the jacuzzi. Neither of them said anything—Chrissy simply curled up against his shoulder as he ghosted kisses to her temple.

They watched the skyline of New York, eyes hazy and love-drunk.

Chapter Text

The sound of an acoustic guitar gently lifted Chrissy out of her slumber.

She sleepily reached her arm out, groping for Eddie. As she slowly came to, she realized the king-sized hotel bed was empty.

She gazed down the suite, her eyes following the sound of guitar chords. She could also hear the softest singing and her heart leapt.

Chrissy clambered out of the bed, a little awkwardly, her legs sore and jelly-like. Her hands groped along the floor for her shirt, but she could only find a stray T-shirt Eddie had tossed aside. She couldn’t help but smile at this; pulling it over her head and carefully creeping out into the living area.

Her heart raced as she saw him. He was seated on the couch, guitar in hand, staring out at the New York City skyline. She leaned against the edge of the doorway, listening to him sing.

The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the endless skies, my love
To the dark and the endless skies

His fingers continued to pluck along with the song and Chrissy closed her eyes to listen.

And the first time ever I kissed your mouth
I felt the earth move in my hand
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command, my love
That was there at my command, my love

Chrissy’s fingers drifted to her lips, remembering their shared kiss just yesterday and how it seemed to reorder her entire universe.

And the first time ever I lay with you
I felt your heart so close to mine
And I knew our joy would fill the earth
And last 'til the end of time my love
And it would last 'til the end of time

Her cheeks warmed, thinking of their incredible night together.

The first time ever I saw your face
Your face, your face, your face…

“Did you write that?” Chrissy asked quietly.

Eddie paused his strumming and looked over towards her with a smile. “I wish. It’s an old folk song written by Ewan MacColl, but Roberta Flack perfected it.”

She sighed dreamily. “It’s beautiful.

“Yeah,” Eddie said thoughtfully. “One of the best songs about…love at first sight.”

Her heart leapt. “Is that what this is?”

He was silent at the question and Chrissy wondered if she had said the wrong thing. But after a moment, he cracked a grin towards her.

“Sure feels like it, doesn’t it?”

She couldn’t disagree. And frankly, the very thought that he would be away from her, flying to Berlin, and that their night together was just a fling…it felt utterly unbearable.

Chrissy fidgeted with the hem of his T-shirt. “You’re…going to Berlin tomorrow.”

“I am,” He answered quietly.

“And I…” She bit her lip. “I have to stay here.”

“Do you?”

She choked out a laugh, taking a seat next to him. “Don’t tease me, Eddie.”

“I’m not,” He put aside his guitar, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “What if you came with me? To Berlin?”

“As what?” Chrissy snorted bitterly. “The groupie you fucked?”

“Nope,” Eddie shook his head. “As my wife.”

There was a long pause at this. Chrissy thought she’d misheard, at first. Or perhaps he was joking with her. She waited for him to break into a chuckle, say ‘PSYCH!’ or something of that nature. But he simply looked at her, his dark eyes full of intimate tenderness.

“You…you can’t be serious,” She whispered.

“I’m very serious, honey.”

“We just met yesterday!”

Eddie shrugged. “When you know who you want to spend the rest of your life with, you want to the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

“Don’t you quote ‘When Harry Met Sally’ at me,” Chrissy said fiercely. “That is my favorite movie and it’s not fair.”

“It’s my favorite too,” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Seems like it’s pretty meant to be, if you ask me.”

“Eddie,” Chrissy pleaded. “We don’t…we don’t know anything about each other. I don’t even know where you’re from!”

“I’m from Muncie, Indiana,” Eddie said easily. “You?”

She blinked. “Indiana? Really?”

“That’s right.”

A lump rose in her throat. “I’m from…Lowell, Indiana. Up north, near Chicago…”

His eyes glittered with mischief. “Figures I’d fall in love with a fellow Hoosier.”

How could he say that? So simply and easily? With no regard to the consequences, to the craziness of it all? She wanted desperately to respond in kind, tell him that she’d never felt this way her entire life, that she wanted to throw all caution to the wind. Chrissy had never been reckless in her life—even her rebellion from her family was carefully measured and planned. A box of babysitting savings, a lot of financial aid, and a junker of a car that she’d needed to sell immediately once arriving in New York…it had all been carefully recorded on yellow legal pads. Every bill accounted for, every moment of her life as meticulously scheduled as her mother had done. But the difference was…it belonged to Chrissy.

Wasn’t she owed a little recklessness? Especially if the idea of leaving Eddie tore her heart in two…

“Eddie,” She licked her lips and tried again. “It’s…it’s completely crazy. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Baby, my life is crazy,” He tugged a lock of hair. “I embrace the crazy and follow my gut. Maybe it’s not practical or realistic or whatever. But you know what, pursuing music wasn’t practical or realistic either. And it worked out pretty damn well for me.”

“What if we did it?” Chrissy whispered. “And you find out…you find out that you hate being with me? That I hate doing the dishes because dishsoap makes my hands feel chalky? Or that I wake up at 6AM every day and immediately open all the windows, because I need fresh air? Or that I absolutely insist on the clicker on Sunday nights because I love Beauty and the Beast reruns and Touched by an Angel?”

“You will never have to wash a single dish ever again,” Eddie promised. “Either I will do it or…you know, I have a really great housekeeping staff, but if you want ‘em done right away, I volunteer for that.”

Her lips began to quirk in a smile.

“The 6AM thing is insane, but maybe it’ll be good for me,” He chuckled. “You might have to make it worth my while for a bit, but I never turn down morning sex.”

She shoved him playfully.

“And simply for the fact that you call it a ‘clicker’ instead of a ‘remote’ just makes me fall in love with you even more. Television is yours every Sunday night. I’ll watch your shmaltzy shows and I promise I won’t make fun of them.”

He winked at her and she blushed deeply. “It…almost sounds like we’re writing our wedding vows right now.”

Eddie’s gaze flamed. “It sure does, princess.”

“What about you?” She snuggled close to him. “What are the things I should know right now before we do this?”

He sucked in his breath sharply. “So that’s a yes? We’re going to do this?”

His voice was so boyishly sweet, it made her melt all over again. “Tell me, Eddie.”

“All right, all right,” He considered for a moment, his fingers playing with her hair. “Well…I don’t always smoke entirely legal things…”

“I don’t mind that,” Chrissy said at once and grinned mischievously. “As long as you’re willing to share.”

“For my wife, anything,” He beamed at her and she flushed at the idea. His wife.

“I have a D&D game I play with a few people…some of them are kinda…well-known in the music industry,” Eddie rubbed his chin. “We do that Tuesday nights.”

“I could make snacks for it,” Chrissy offered. “I make a great seven layer dip.

He smiled. “If you give them food, you’ll win them over immediately.”

Chrissy giggled. “Anything else?”

“Hmm…” Eddie thought. “I go to Hawkins every August 8th for my uncle’s birthday. He raised me and I…well, I kind of owe him everything. He calls me a damn fool every time I visit, says I make a fuss for nothing, but I know he secretly likes it. And he would…God, he would adore you.”

Chrissy sparkled at this. “Really? You think so?”

“I know so,” He laughed a little. “He might actually be the only person in the world who will think I did the right thing in marrying you immediately. He told me that when I do find the girl of my dreams, not to waste any time and wife her the fuck up.”

She flushed at this beautifully vulnerable admission. God, she was fucking putty in his hands.

“What about you?” His tone turned serious. “Your family gonna give you any trouble about marrying a rockstar you’ve only known for twelve hours?”

Chrissy’s fingers twitched around the hem of Eddie’s shirt. “I…we’re not…in contact. My parents haven’t spoken to me since I left home at eighteen and my younger brother…well, I’ve tried to reach out to him a few times, but I think…I think my mom kept him from getting my letters. He’s probably in college now, but I have no idea where.”

“Jesus,” Eddie gave a low whistle. “I’m sorry, baby. That’s messed up.”

“Well,” Chrissy said quietly, taking his hands. “I just…it feels like I’m on the brink of having…having a whole new family. And that’s…that’s something I’ve wanted for a really long time.”

He pulled her further into his arms until she was completely seated in his lap. Her eyes filled at this open display of physical affection and she buried her face in his chest. God. She was in love. She had fallen in love at first sight and she was going to marry this man, no matter how insane it was or how little she kenw about him. Other countries had arranged marriages where the affianced didn’t even meet until they were standing at the altar—and their marriages lasted decades. By that perspective, weren’t Eddie and she ahead of them by several hours?

“Eddie Munson,” She whispered. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

His lips met hers hotly and she succumbed.

🎸

Quite a lot had to be done if you wanted to get married quickly in New York.

Eddie insisted on taking her to Tiffany’s. She had balked at the expensive jewelry store, afraid that it made her seem like a brainless gold-digger that had somehow seduced a drugged out rockstar into marrying him. But Eddie would not be deterred; her fiancé was surprisingly stubborn in his desire to spoil his soon-to-be-wife. He had the entire store emptied at noon so Chrissy could choose her favorite ring.

She chose a sapphire princess-cut ring, inlaid with emeralds. She liked the deep blue of them and the way Eddie looked at her when she placed it on her finger. He told her the ring made her eyes pop and that emeralds were his birthstone. She loved the idea…she the sapphire, nestled in Eddie’s emeralds…

He then took her to Saks to pick a white dress. It would not precisely be a wedding dress, just something simple and elegant that she could wear to the courthouse. She fell in love with a white and blue Vivienne Westwood dress, which Eddie told her was the precise color of her eyes, a stormy cornflower blue. Like the ring, it was also ungodly expensive—but once again, Eddie insisted.

“You’re marrying a rockstar, baby, you’re going to have to get used to me buying you anything your heart desires,” He told her quite seriously. “I was poor as shit growing up. Now I can get anything for anyone I love.”

The sentiment was sweet. But Chrissy would have a hell of a time getting over this extravagant generosity.

The next step was to find witnesses.

🎸

Chrissy had met Nancy Wheeler a few years after she moved to New York. The publishing company Chrissy worked for and the magazine Nancy wrote for were located in the same building, a few floors apart. They found themselves riding the same elevator line for a while, before Nancy asked if she wanted to grab an after-work drink.

Chrissy liked Nancy almost immediately. Nancy was fearless and exuberant, never afraid to say what was on her mind, a bold and vivacious spirit. She had been living with her long-term boyfriend for years—his name was Jonathan, a quiet man, bit of an old soul, who looked at Nancy like she hung the moon and he wasn’t entirely sure how he was lucky enough to be in her orbit.

Nancy was the first person Chrissy wanted to call.

It was a weekend, but Nancy often worked weekends at the office, so Chrissy was relieved when Nancy answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi Nance,” Chrissy exhaled slowly, curling the telephone cord around her finger. “Are you…are you busy today?”

“Not really,” Nancy replied. “Jonathan and I were going to go out to that new place on Bleecker for lunch, but it’s not set in stone. What’s up?”

“Well,” Chrissy cleared her throat. “If you weren’t too busy, I was hoping maybe you and Jonathan could meet me at the courthouse at around 1PM.”

“The courthouse? Why? Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” Chrissy glanced over at Eddie, who smiled at her. “I’m getting married.”

There was a long and awkward pause. Chrissy waited patiently for Nancy to digest this information.

“I didn’t—I didn’t even know you were dating anyone,” Nancy finally stammered out.

“I met him yesterday,” Chrissy said truthfully.

There was another long pause.

“Chrissy…are you sober right now?” Nancy said anxiously. “I know you went to Woodstock—”

“I am sober,” Chrissy assured her friend. “And I know it sounds a little nuts—”

“A little?!”

“But…I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Nance.”

Eddie’s expression softened as he gazed at her, sipping a mug of coffee. Chrissy blew him a kiss before turning her attention back to her phone conversation.

“I don’t—I don’t know what to say,” Nancy’s voice was stilted.

“Can you say you’ll meet me at the courthouse?” Chrissy requested. “You and Jonathan? I’d like him to be there. I think he’d like Eddie.”

“I—well—Chris, of course we will, but—”

“Okay, great!” Chrissy clapped a little. “I’ll see you then.”

She hung up quickly and turned to her fiancé, who was chuckling. “She’s very excited for us.”

“I can imagine,” Eddie threw her a wink.

Chapter Text

Sure enough, Nancy and Jonathan were waiting outside the Louis J. Lefkowitz State Office building. Jonathan was seated on the steps, looking bemused while Nancy paced in agitation. Chrissy beamed at them in greeting, dressed to the nines in her blue and white Vivienne Westwood—and a brand new pair of Louboutins (another wedding present from Eddie, who insisted).

She felt that Eddie was dressed rather sharply himself, in a black button-down and dark wash jeans. His hair was tied in a low ponytail and she smiled as the sun glinted off an earring. Her mother would have fainted at the idea of Chrissy marrying someone in jeans, which she thought was curiously fitting.

“Hi Nancy!” Chrissy released Eddie’s hand to give her friend a hug. “I missed you!”

“Y-yeah, me too,” Nancy swallowed hard. “Um—”

“This is Eddie Munson,” Chrissy introduced. “Eddie, these are my friends Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers.”

“Nice to meet you,” Eddie extended a hand to shake. Jonathan took it, but Nancy did not, glaring at Eddie with deep suspicion.

Jonathan’s eyebrow quirked. “Wait—um—aren’t you…?”

“He’s the lead singer of Corroded Coffin,” Chrissy said proudly and Nancy spluttered at this reveal.

“Chrissy, can I talk to you?” Nancy asked urgently. “Privately?”

Chrissy shook her head. “I don’t want us to miss our appointment with the clerk.”

Eddie checked his watch and to Chrissy’s surprise, he looked down the street, as though waiting for someone. “We can wait a few minutes, sweetheart. They, ah, know who’s coming. Go ahead.”

Chrissy cast an exasperated look towards her fiancé. But perhaps he was right. Might as well get the lecture over with now.

She allowed Nancy to steer her a few feet away while Jonathan chatted amiably with Eddie.

“What are you doing?!” Nancy hissed in her ear. “Are you crazy? Have you had a head injury?”

“No,” Chrissy rolled her eyes. “I fell in love.”

Nancy sucked her teeth. “You fell—you don’t even know him! And he’s a famous rockstar! Are you sure you’re not on drugs?!”

Chrissy sighed. She took Nancy’s hands and squeezed them gently. “Nance—have you ever known me to do anything impractical or reckless? In all the time we’ve been friends?”

“Not at all,” Nancy answered immediately. “That’s why I’m worried.”

“I’m not trying to pretend like it isn’t crazy,” Chrissy said gently. “But I need you—I need you to trust me on this. Even if you have doubts or reservations—I need you to support me on this. This is my decision and even if it turns out to be a mistake, it’ll be the best mistake I’ve ever made. Can you understand that?”

Nancy hesitated. Chrissy could tell from her friend’s expression that she badly wanted Chrissy to snap out of it. But Chrissy’s little speech had affected her and she exhaled in resignation.

“All right,” Nancy relented. “Just—I—you’re signing a prenup, right?”

As a matter of fact, Chrissy had. One million dollars alimony because, as Eddie stated, “If I fuck this up for any reason, then you should be legally entitled to a cool million.”

“Let’s go inside,” Chrissy tugged Nancy’s arm. “I really don’t want to miss our appointment. Eddie may make a living being fashionably late, but I certainly don’t!”

🎸

When they rejoined Eddie and Jonathan, Chrissy tugged her fiance’s hand. “Come on! We’re going to be late!”

“One sec,” Eddie glanced at his watch and then, curiously, looking anxiously down Worth Street.

“Eddie!” Chrissy pulled his sleeve. “I don’t want to miss our appointment!”

“Just—ah!” Eddie beamed as a yellow cab came hurtling around the corner. Chrissy watched in confusion as Eddie bounded down towards it. The window went down and Eddie spoke to the driver, handling over several twenties.

The car doors opened and Chrissy’s little brother, Matty, stepped into the sunlight.

Chrissy stared. She hadn’t seen Matty since she disappeared in the middle of the night, leaving her mother with an icy note. She had tried numerous times to write him, even once tried calling him on his birthday—but whenever Laura heard her daughter’s voice on the other end, she immediately hung up on her.

But now he was here.

Eddie jogged up to her. “So…did you know that Matty actually goes to NYU? He had no idea you were in Manhattan. After all this time, he wasn’t far from you at all.”

She let out a choking sob. Matty gave her an awkward wave and approached her warily.

“H-hi,” He cleared his throat. “Um…Eddie found me. Or his lawyer did. Whatever. Asked if I wanted to come down and…I know maybe you didn’t want to see me, but—”

Chrissy pulled her little brother (little…he was taller than her now! When had that happened?) into her arms and hugged him fiercely. Matty cleared his throat and she could feel a bit of dampness from his cheeks slide into her hair. When they finally broke apart, her little brother rubbed his eyes, muttering something about the dust getting into his eyes.

She turned towards her fiancé, who smiled at her gently. Chrissy had had no doubts that marrying Eddie was the right thing to do, even if it didn’t last. But now…now she was sure that happily ever after was within her reach.

🎸

All in all, the ceremony took about twenty minutes.

The clerk read out loud the vows. They signed an endless amount of paperwork. Eddie paid a ten dollar fee for the license (once again, he refused to let Chrissy help pay). And then finally, finally—they were married. She was Chrissy Elizabeth Munson.

When Eddie kissed her lips, it was a sweet sacrament. A promise that he would kiss her every day of their marriage, that he would support her writing career, that she would attend as many of his shows that she could, that she would join him on tour when she was able, that ‘happily ever after’, a concept that she once believed only existed in children’s books—it was true. It was real. All of a sudden, her life had become a fairytale and nothing could shake her from this, as illogical as it all sounded.

Chrissy was desperately happy.

When they’d all exited the courthouse, Eddie requested to treat them to lunch. They were close to Chinatown, so they ended up at Pasteur Grill & Noodles, the oldest (and best) Vietnamese restaurant in the city. Soon, their table was filled with crispy spring rolls, sauteed curry, and different types of banh mi, so everyone got to try each type. They each had Vietnamese coffee and when their server learned that Eddie and Chrissy were newlyweds, they brought out a large rainbow ice for them to split.

“So…what happens next?” Nancy asked, twirling one of her chopsticks. She had significantly defrosted after Matty had showed up. Nancy knew everything about Chrissy’s difficulties with her family.

“I guess I’m going to Berlin,” Chrissy said with a smile. “I have a lot of vacation time—in fact, my supervisor has been on me to start using them up. She said it’s not healthy for me to spend all my time at the office.”

“What about after that?” Nancy asked worriedly. “When Eddie gets back from the tour? Are you going to keep your job?”

“Of course,” Chrissy nodded. “Eddie’s assistant is going to start looking for apartments for us and fax us some options in Berlin.”

“And Rome, Paris, and London,” Eddie confirmed. “We’ll get it all squared away. I don’t really care where we end up, Chrissy can pick.”

Chrissy clapped her hands in excitement. “Oh, wait! If we could find a place in the East or West Village—then we’d be close to Matty’s dorm!”

“Oh, that’d be awesome!” Matty grinned in response. “Plus, I would get so much street cred if my friends knew my big sister married a rockstar.”

Nancy just sighed in apparent resignation, giving up being the voice of reason. If Chrissy was happy, then Nancy would support her, and that was that. Jonathan seemed to sense this concern and gave his girlfriend a kiss on the cheek, a quiet attempt to quell her anxiousness.

Chrissy smiled kindly at Nancy. “I’ll call every day, Nance, I promise.”

Nancy pointed a chopstick at her. “You better. And you better take care of her,” She added threateningly towards Eddie.

“It’s a promise,” Eddie said solemnly. “You think I wanna risk your wrath? Or Matty’s? Look at that kid, he’s the size of a dump truck. He could totally take me.”

Matty, who had played football in high school, grinned. “Damn right.”

🎸

There were many hugs and kisses when the meal had concluded. Chrissy promised to send a postcard from every city she visited and again, vowed to call Nancy every day. When Nancy reluctantly released her, Chrissy made plans to grab a drink with Matty at McSorley’s Old Ale House (popular among college students) when she returned.

And then it was just Chrissy and Eddie, man and wife, alone on the sidewalk.

Eddie hailed a cab for her and they made off to her apartment so she could pack. While she did so, Eddie used her house phone to call his assistant and asked him to make arrangements to sublet Mrs. Munson’s apartment.

Mrs. Munson. Chrissy rather liked the sound of that.

When she was sure she had gotten everything, Eddie picked up her bags and they went downstairs to hail another cab. By the time they reached the hotel, they were a contented sort of tired, filled to the brim with love and sweetness, ready to collapse on their marital bed and sleep for a few hours. (They would consummate their marriage in the morning, before their flight…)

But this plan was abruptly shaken by Vixie, who was waiting in the suite.

Vixie blinked in surprise at Chrissy, who she clearly had not expected to still be there. “Um, hi.”

“Hi,” Chrissy waved at her with a cheery grin.

Vixie’s brows knitted together. “Er…Eddie has kind of an early flight tomorrow. Did you guys exchange numbers and addresses and everything?”

“She’s coming with us,” Eddie replied cheerfully.

“Uh…” Vixie’s eyes flicked between the couple. “Are we…sure that’s a good idea?”

“Well, I’m not going to be the kind of husband that just leaves his wife at home,” Eddie said, clearly enjoying Vixie’s confusion.

Vixie started. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I’m turning the European tour into our honeymoon,” He grinned toothily at her. “Chrissy and I got married this afternoon.”

His manager stared at him for a long moment before slowly taking out a cigarette and lighting it with a shaking hand. She took a long drag, centered herself, and l
looked at Eddie, eyes narrowed.

“You wanna run that by me again?”

“Chrissy and I got married,” He leaned over and kissed Chrissy’s cheek. “She’s my wife now. And she’s coming to Berlin with us—and then Paris, Rome, Dublin, London…”

“You—you met her yesterday!” Vixie sputtered like an old Chevy truck.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie beamed at Chrissy. “When you know, you know.”

Vixie pinched the skin between her brows and took another long puff of her cigarette. Then, without a word, she walked past both of them and slammed the hotel doors behind her.

“Is she mad?” Chrissy asked worriedly. It didn’t seem like a wise move to piss off Eddie’s manager…Chrissy wanted everyone in his life to like her.

“Ah, she’s fine,” Eddie snickered. “She knows I enjoy getting a rise out of her a little too much. She’s probably freaking out about the media speculation and the paparazzi and all that jazz.”

Chrissy gulped. That was something she hadn’t exactly thought off—the practical ramifications of becoming a rockstar’s wife. Eddie was used to it, but would she be? Could she grow accustomed to having her every move scrutinized by the media? The thought was overwhelming and in an instant, she wondered if she had bitten off a little more than she could chew.

But when she looked into her new husband’s eyes, her fears seemed to melt away. It was all right. Eddie was here. And maybe they had done something wild and reckless and crazy without thinking of the repercussions.

But maybe that was okay.

She noticed him grinning at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” He tilted her head up. “Just…really happy. I was kinda dreading going to Berlin all weekend, but now…”

“Doesn’t seem so bad?” Chrissy traced the designs on his shirt.

“Seems pretty fucking appealing, actually,” Eddie kissed her sweetly. “I’ll give you a better honeymoon after the tour, I promise. I know it’s gonna be kinda lame with me playing every night. But during the day we can travel, sightsee, whatever you want.”

Chrissy laughed. “Watching you play every night isn’t exactly lame. Frankly, I’d consider it foreplay.”

He smirked at her response and their lips met once more. His lips left hers to nip down her throat, sucking at her pulse point. She giggled at this, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“I thought you were tired!” She whispered against his skin.

“Mmhmm, I’m super exhausted,” Eddie groaned into her neck, kissing where her shoulders met. “Let’s go to bed immediately.”

The hotel doors burst open and Vixie bellowed, “GO TO SLEEP, YOU IDIOTS, WE HAVE A 6AM FLIGHT IN THE MORNING.”

Just as quickly as they opened, she slammed them shut again. Chrissy burst out into peals of giggles. Eddie, happily ignoring Vixie, scooped Chrissy up bridal style and carried her to their bed.

All in all, Chrissy thought to herself as Eddie blanketed her with kisses, gently easing off her dress, she was very glad she had decided to go to Woodstock.