Page 58 of Rock Strong

“Temporarily,” I added.

“That’s fine.”

Our arm-in-arm turned to holding hands, and our holding hands turned to his arm around me. I tried not to think about the garden where Liam and I first kissed—well, where I’d kissed him. So maybe the whole thing had been my fault. If I hadn’t started it, he might never have finished it, especially the way he did. He was only trying to get back the life he’d lost for a week because of me.

We strolled by a familiar grove of trees, our hidden spot where we used to slip away, hide behind, kiss, and sometimes do naughty things against the trunks with our clothes on. It’d been a long time, two or more years since we’d done anything like that, but I was up for it—I had to eradicate recent memories from my mind.

Tugging me along, Samuel led me to the group of trees where I leaned back against one of them and let him hold me close. His scent was different than Liam’s, of course, but immediately, my mind went back and forth, remembering the feel of Samuel’s body against mine. Not hard muscle but boyish and present and…just Samuel. Whereas Liam had towered over me, my face always aligned with his strong chest. Hugging him had felt like hugging a man.

A man who broke your heart, Abby. Who wasn’t up-front about his intentions.

Whether what happened with Liam was his fault, my fault, or nobody’s fault, it didn’t prevent me from missing him terribly. As Samuel’s mouth dropped over mine, and we kissed like we always had, akin to a mannequin holding still while his tongue moved around in my mouth, I felt tears stinging my eyes, but I couldn’t let them spill. Samuel had been up-front with his feelings. Samuel had never hurt me like Liam had. I had to keep reminding myself of that. If anyone deserved my love, it was Samuel, not Liam.

So why did I feel so horrible?

God, I hated what my brain was doing, how my body craved the swaying movement of Liam’s body, how he put his whole self into the kiss, how it was much more than a kiss, more like a sweet, slow dance with his soul.

Still, I pressed on, allowing Samuel to run his hands over my body while I felt nothing, then the most awkward thing happened—my brain and body worked together to fool me. In order to feel something, anything—Samuel became Liam. My legs softened and parted slightly, as I slid one up against Samuel’s leg. My body arched against him, my breasts pushing, wanting Liam’s heat, remembering Liam’s kisses, Liam’s body…Liam awakening my core.

Nobody had made me feel the way he had. He might be gone now, but I had to live with the memory of him making me feel beautiful, a goddess to be adored, the most wanted and loved woman in the world. He never talked condescendingly to me. He respected me, felt I was talented, wanted more of me. I couldn’t comprehend what had gone wrong.

I panted, threw my head back, and for a moment, I heard his voice—Liam’s voice—in my ear. I love you, Abby.

Stop, this is wrong! I pulled away, unable to look at Samuel. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay? What is it?” Samuel’s eyes implored me in the darkness, his hands clinging to mine. He reached out and wiped my eyes.

“I just…I have to go. I’m sorry. Thank you for dinner.” I tore away, feeling terrible for leading him on when, clearly, I was in no condition to be dating anyone, not even him. I walked home with him following close behind, unrelenting, or maybe just to keep me safe.

When I reached my mother’s apartment building, he waited, one foot on the first step, as I ascended the stairs. At the top, I turned and gave him a small wave. He only sagged against the railing, staring up at me with the most confused expression. I entered the building and jumped up the three flights of stairs.

Entering the apartment, my mother immediately began playing her nosiness card from her position on the couch watching TV. “So how was dinner? Did you two talk?”

“Not now, Ma.” I stormed by her in a huff and closed my bedroom door behind me. I set down my purse, kicked off my shoes, and threw myself facedown on my bed, letting the buildup of tears behind my eyes spill over.

For the first time since I left Vancouver, I cried. Sobbed, was more like it. It came in waves, pelting my heart, my pillow, as I held it tightly against my face to keep from screaming. I had the vague sense that my mother was at my door, ear pressed against it, but she’d better not knock, because I couldn’t handle it right now. I couldn’t handle anything.

Maybe it hadn’t been Liam’s fault, I reasoned. One never knew. I hadn’t even given him the benefit of the doubt. The fact that he hadn’t stopped texting me since I left had to mean something, didn’t it? Why was I being so hard on him by not responding? People made mistakes. Maybe he’d always had plans to meet Giselle Vici in Vancouver, and I interrupted that. Maybe he’d planned on having a grand, bachelor time on this tour, and I interrupted that as well. Maybe he hadn’t been ready for me any more than I’d been ready for him.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that a relationship with Liam would have been dangerous. I would always have been contending with the drama that seemed to surround him and the rest of the band. Drama was their lifestyle, their paycheck, and it played no part in my orderly, predictable life. I couldn’t let Liam back in if my life depended on it. It would have been only a matter of time before he hurt me again, traumatized me with images of other women straddling him, pressing their bosom against him while he gazed into their eyes, not mine.

I could not deal with that.

So I decided that I wouldn’t.

I reached for my phone and dredged up his name and number, wiping them both clean from my contacts, as though they’d never been there at all.

Chapter 20

Liam

Wes and I practiced it all week, and Robbie okay’d it, so we went ahead…

We added Abby Shines, the new acoustic piece, to the Chicago set. Nobody knew we were going to do it. It was as spontaneous as writing music gets. Originally, I wanted to write lyrics to accompany Abby’s Serenade, but she wasn’t available for me to ask her for the rights to use her song, so I “borrowed” the dark, rhythmic elements from her composition, which had been haunting me, and went from there. Yes, it was similar enough to her original composition that she’d be well within her rights to sue me, but I was willing to take that chance, and so were the others. I was making a statement here, and it had to be a huge one. Wes came up with a chiming guitar riff to go with it, and together with my lyrics, it was about as poignant a piece as anything we’d ever performed.

That night, it was hard to sing it without a hitch catching in my throat. I’m sure everyone thought I was just acting, but still, there was no denying that moment when the guitar rang clear, the last note hung suspended, and I moaned out the final “…And she’ll never see me again.”

I ended the last note, pressed two fingers to my lips, then held them high against the brightest light in the stadium. “For you, Ab.”

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