Page 30 of Rock Strong

We jumped into the Porsche just before big raindrops began coming down. This was, by far, a harder rain than during last night’s show. Liam drove out of the cemetery, blasting the wipers at high speed, leaning forward on the steering wheel to peer out the windshield.

“We should wait this out somewhere,” he said.

“Where?”

“I would tell you, but you would only think bad of me.”

“Why would I?”

“My grandparents’ house. It’s only ten minutes from here in Newcastle.”

Oh. “Does anyone live there now?”

“No, been empty for a while now. Most of their stuff is in storage, but my parents kept the house, hoping I would want to remodel it and maybe move in one day. It’s this great house, just sitting there empty.”

If I told him it was okay to go, he might think I was open to having sex with him (which, let’s face it, I was), and if I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea, he might consider me Prude of the Year and forget talking to me anymore. Rosemary would want to know how I felt, what I wanted, and would tell me to ignore what Liam or anyone else thought. The truth was, I would’ve loved to go to the house with him and just see what happened. For all I knew, the rain might let up soon, and we’d be there a whole of five minutes.

“Let’s go,” I said.

“You sure? You’re not going to think the worst of me?”

“I won’t, Liam. I promise.”

“Damn. Need to try harder then.” He chuckled to himself, tearing out of first gear, second, third, and on up, back on the road to Newcastle.

When he’d said his grandparents’ house, I’d pictured a quaint little cottage with flowerbeds outside, maybe a big oak tree, and a cute little mailbox. I never expected to see this six-bedroom multilevel home on a lake with a dock and a boat shed to go with it.

“My granddad was big into boating,” Liam explained, as though he could hear my thoughts.

He pulled into the gravel driveway and waited for the rain to slow, but it only pounded harder. Liam cut the engine, and the Porsche went from lion to lamb in point-two seconds. As I thought about the possibilities that awaited us—whether we’d get hot in here, whether I was ready for more than a kiss, whether I would be able to satisfy a rock-slash-sex god who was used to being “serviced” by countless women, Liam turned to me, scooped my face into his hot hands, and waited.

My breath hung suspended between us. I knew he was waiting for me to make a move again, that he wanted my permission, wanted the impulse to come from my side. Did I want this?

I did.

Every inch of me cried out for it, but I had to keep an eye on myself and make sure I didn’t go overboard or let only my emotions rule me.

I reached up, and his warm lips pressed against mine. He opened his mouth, his tongue lining my lips, impatiently pushing farther in, sending me into a reeling tizzy. It was warm and chilly in the car all at once, and I knew, from the surge of hot wetness that flooded my panties, that I was, as Liam would say, motherfucking doomed.

We kissed for a long time, fogging up the windows, feeling each other’s shoulders, arms, his hands grazing my breasts. I did nothing to stop him. Whether or not Liam Collier would hurt poor little Abby Chan in the future, I already knew I wanted to explore his talents.

I would take the consequences when they came. I was prepared.

When the rain died to a light drizzle, Liam suggested we make a run for it, so I abandoned all caution, grabbed the cello case, and, on the count of three, opened the door and followed him around the side of the house. Standing before the garage, Liam shook rain off his head and flipped open a panel next to the garage door. He punched in a series of numbers, and suddenly, the garage door sprang to life, rolling backward with a heavy groan, as though Liam had awakened a sleeping beast. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the significance.

The two-story house was almost clear of furniture or any decoration. Liam showed me the rooms where his grandmother sewed costumes for him and his brothers, where his grandfather took apart computers then put them back together, where their dog, Jax, watched the birds outside eat his dog food, and the room where he and his brothers slept whenever they visited. Now, they were just hollow rooms.

The stairs were wooden and spiraled slightly, cherry, same as the floors, and the handrail was some other type of wood I couldn’t think of right now, because the truth was, I couldn’t think straight.

He’s leading you to a bedroom. Will you give it up, Abby?

At the first room, Liam gently took the cello case from my hand and set it in the middle of the room next to a single chair. Outside the window, sunset was going on somewhere behind the gray curtain of clouds. Soon, it’d be dark in the house, and as far as I could see, there weren’t any lights. My heart pounded inside my throat.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Pretend this is your audition,” he said, pulling up a chair for me. “Play your song for me. Play Serenade.”

My tummy fluttered because he so easily remembered the title of my musical composition. He’d been paying attention. It had taken three or four times before my own mother could remember what it was called. “You want me to play for you?” I clarified. “Now?”

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