Page 28 of Rock Strong

“Oh, yes. Especially when you say ‘motherfucker.’”

He laughed. “Damn. Tough chick.”

That made me smile, I had to admit.

We returned to silence as we drove by art centers, famous theaters, gardens, parks, and fish markets. It was a beautiful day, more gorgeous than I’d ever imagined, and the temperature was a perfect seventy-five degrees. The whole time, I kept thinking about what he said, how this was his life, how some of it was real, and some was fake. But mostly, I wondered about what he said about his past.

I hated when someone pried into my life, though, so I decided he would tell me if he felt the time was right.

“Abby,” Liam said at a red light, glancing over at me. “I want you to know something. When I first saw you at Robbie’s house, the night before the start of the tour, I loved that you were different. You did your own thing, dressed your own way, and didn’t give a shit what you said to Tuck. Other people kiss our asses all the time, so…I really appreciate that.”

I definitely could appreciate that, too. All the more reason to believe that I wasn’t just a potential sex object to him. He liked who I was, just the way I was, even if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with me. I hated to admit it, but that gave Liam more points than Samuel in the adoration department.

“Thank you, but I’m not that different, Liam. Maybe I stick out like a sore thumb in LA, but in New York, I blend in like anyone else. In fact, most people never, ever notice me.”

“I highly doubt that.” He took my hand and looked at me deeply, sincerely. It felt nice, but as soon as the light turned green, he needed to shift gears, so he put my hand over the stick and layered his own hand on top. We drove and held hands at the same time. “Abby, I can’t promise you anything. Being with me is complicated. But if you’re willing, then I’m willing to give things a chance, see where they lead. Does that make sense?”

I nodded, staring straight ahead. At the very least, he was being honest with me. “Yes, it does. I’ll think about it.”

He smiled. “We can start with today.”

I squeezed his hand in acknowledgment.

It was enough for the moment.

As he drove, I allowed myself to recline the seat and let him lead me. This wasn’t unlike ballroom dancing or getting a massage, I imagined, where you relinquish power and let someone else take control. I wasn’t used to the feeling, but I enjoyed it. We drove by the Seattle Center, the Space Needle, even Benaroya Hall, where the Seattle Symphony played.

The air had a salty tinge to it as Liam turned down Second Avenue, and I knew we were near the famous Pike Place Market.

“Can we get off here?” I rested my cheek against the headrest to look at him. “I’ve always wanted to see this place. Or will that cause too many problems for you?”

“Nah, it’ll be fine.” He veered into a spot after a car just pulled out. “It’s only Thursday, so it shouldn’t be too crowded.”

“What about my cello?” I asked, pointing to my baby. On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t have brought it, since it could be seen in the backseat. Trunk space in a Porsche was only big enough for a lunch box. “I don’t want to leave it unattended too long.”

“We’ll only stay a short while.” He pulled his cap further over his head, rolled a scarf around his neck, and turned to me. “How do I look?”

“Like a hipster terrorist.”

“Perfect. Let’s go.” Closing up the car, he climbed out and quickly ran to my side to open my door for me. “Are you having fun yet?” he asked hopefully.

“The jury is still out.”

“Man, you are harsh, woman.” He feigned being hurt with a palm pressed to his chest, but I was getting to know this little pretending-to-be-offended act of his.

Pike Place was kind of touristy, but so was Times Square, yet anyone visiting New York City had to experience it at least once in their lives. We watched the fish being flung around, bought coffee at Starbucks (where we stopped so Liam could sign two autographs for some quiet, older fans), and bought one soy candle, one jar of beeswax honey, and one dozen tulips in assorted colors.

Then screeches echoed from down the sidewalk as a flurry of movement rushed our way.

“Time to go,” Liam warned.

So this was how it would be if we had a relationship.

“Hurry, hurry…” He grabbed my hand and tugged me along, exiting Pike Place, bolting down the street, and running to the car like 007 and his Bond Girl escaping a deadly explosion in the nick of time. Liam laughed the whole time.

Once we were cruising through the streets again, we breathed normally, and at a red light, he turned toward me. “What about now?” he asked, chuckling.

I smiled-scoffed. “Why do you keep asking me that?”

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