Page 48 of Rock Strong

I smiled, not ignoring the fact that he was respectful instead of calling her names like Tucker. He didn’t tell me I shouldn’t be seeing her, just acknowledged her real, unavoidable presence in my life. Wes was a good guy that way.

“Thanks, man.” I bumped shoulders with him and headed off amid the disquieting whispers of the merch crew and Wes’s cloud of smoke.

“Anytime, buddy. Anytime.”

Against my better judgment, I spent the rest of the morning walking the old downtown streets of Vancouver, taking in the clean summer air, and narrowly missing groups of fans wearing Feel the Burn T-shirts. I wondered whether or not I should show up at Giselle’s house to find Helen and tell her I was sorry.

I’d never be with her romantically, but the least I could do was offer an apology for being so stupid. It was then, cutting through a park, that I realized what else was bothering me. Maybe the one I’d had the intention of being with, the one I had been holding a candle for was Vanessa. Maybe, in the back of my mind, I figured that once my wild side died down I’d try finding her again. When I was ready. Despite the fact she was married.

But that all changed when I met Abby.

I realized—if my brain would allow me to think of something so goddamn painful—that I wanted Helen and Vanessa’s forgiveness before deciding which direction to go with Abby. For the longest time, besides my mother, they were the women in my life. Their blessing mattered to me. It was like the time my grandmother was dying in the hospital, and my mother leaned in close and told her, right there on her deathbed, that she was free to go if she wanted. We would all be okay without her, and so my grandmother sighed her last breath and left us.

Vanessa wasn’t in my life now, but there were too many unspoken things between Helen and me. It was mostly my fault for turning a blind eye to her. But I loved her, so she needed to know how much I was starting to love Abby. And how much it scared me, too.

Was I doing the right thing, or was I leading Abby on? Some might say that Abby would change me, tame me, strip me of my rocker skin, and make me a decent man. Some might say she’d lead me to be someone I am not. And if that happened, who would I be? I’d spent years trying to become Liam Collier, front man for Point Break, and now that I’d arrived, where had that gotten me?

When I finally made it back to the hotel, I crept in through the back, past Nathan, opting to take the stairs. I paused outside my hotel room, taking a deep breath, hoping Abby wouldn’t still be inside. I needed my space today. If, after a day without her—after the show tonight, let’s say—I still wanted to see her, then I’d take that as a sign. But if I didn’t—maybe I was getting myself in too deep.

Especially if she wasn’t sure what she felt for me.

Running my card key through the slot, I heard a voice from down the hall. “Hey, you.” It was Ab, looking freshly showered and hot, a weird smile on her, face like she wasn’t sure what to think. “I was just going to rehearsal. How was the meeting?”

“Huh?” I felt stupid and was sure I looked it, too.

“The meeting with Robbie? In your note?” She paused in front of me, leaning against the hallway wall. When she realized I probably had no meeting with Robbie, her face fell, and I felt like a huge jackass.

“Oh, it was fine. Everything’s great. Our shows tonight and tomorrow are both sold out.”

“That’s great,” she said, chewing her lip. “When you hadn’t texted or called all morning, I just…” She glanced away, at the colorful pattern of the carpet, anywhere but at my face. I had to say something.

“Abby.” I reached out for her hand, squeezing it softly. “Everything’s fine. I just…I needed to spend time with the band so they wouldn’t think I was…”

“Was what?” Her eyebrows sloped. “Spending too much time with Asian Persuasion?” Slowly, she took back her hand and crossed her arms.

“What? No, of course not. Listen, I can’t talk now. I have to shower then get to a sound check. But—”

“You never make sound checks, Liam. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I tried convincing her. “Nothing is going on. I had an amazing time with you last night. I loved sleeping with you again.” Her demeanor shifted slightly, considering the truth to my words. “So…please don’t think anything is going on. I just…need time to myself today, that’s all.”

I knew she was worried about Giselle, about whether or not I had a double life, just like her father had with her mother. I could see it in her face, but I couldn’t tell her with a hundred percent certainty that I could be true to her. Not yet. But soon.

She inhaled a deep, cleansing breath. “Take your time, Liam. We’re in the same place, you and I.”

And there it was. The same uncertainty in her text to Rosemary. So it was true. She wasn’t sure what to think of me. “Trust me, I get it,” I said.

She narrowed her eyes. Okay, maybe not the best choice of words. “Like I said, take all the time you need. I’ll be sure to do the same.”

With that, she turned and strolled down the hall, disappearing around the corner without so much as a glance back my way.

The show went kickass, but for the first time in a long time, I felt distracted. It was like I could hear the crowd and see the crowd, I didn’t miss any beats, and everything went without a hitch, but it all went down as though I’d performed behind a glass wall. My body went through the motions, but my soul just wasn’t there.

I never saw Giselle in the front row, thank God, although my reaction to seeing her face would have been a good indication about how true my love for Abby really was. But it was better this way.

During Save Me Tonight, Abby’s solo rang out smoother and more beautiful than ever, but she never looked at me, only after the song when I faced her and bowed to her, as usual. She gave me a polite smile and bowed back, and that was it. No lit-up smile, the one that made my chest expand, made my heart ache. Could I live without it? The very thought made me feel sick.

After the show, the backstage energy was stronger, louder, and more raucous than ever before. Tucker and Corbin were determined to get me to party, shoving shots in my face, introducing me to buoyant-breasted chicks left and right, whooping it up, spraying champagne, not relenting until I hit the high notes right along with them. Through the haze of alcohol, I caught Wes’s face a few times, his eyes sadly examining me as though he felt sorry for the sack of shit I was.

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