Page 22 of Rockstar Next Door Neighbor

“I can’t be this person.” I take another step back. “I can’t be the other woman sneaking around and stealing moments. I deserve better than that.”

“Yes, you do,” he says roughly, “but it’s not that simple.”

“It never is.” I turn away, fighting tears. “Goodnight, Luke.”

“Lila, wait—“

But I’m already walking away, my feet carrying me swiftly across the sand. Behind me, I hear him finally answer his phone, his voice low and strained.

By the time I reach the house, my lips are still tingling from his kiss, but my heart feels heavy. The taste of success from earlier has been replaced by something bitter and filled with regret.

I touch my fingers to my mouth, remembering the way he kissed me—like a drowning man finding air. I slowly walk inside, leaving behind my empty wine glass and an even emptier dream of a future with Luke.

Eight

Luke

The plane touches down at a private airfield near JFK, and I’m already exhausted. Not physically—though the red-eye flight didn’t help—but emotionally. My fingers drum restlessly against my thigh, playing phantom melodies as I stare out the window.

“You look like shit,” Cass says cheerfully, dropping into the seat next to me as the other band members file past. “Trouble in paradise?”

If by paradise he means the constant war between what I want and what I have to do, then yeah, there’s trouble.

“I’m fine,” I say, but even I don’t believe it.

“Right.” He draws out the word skeptically. “That’s why you’ve been moping around like someone kicked your ass for days.”

“I don’t mope.”

“Bro,” Vince calls from the aisle, “you’ve been playing nothing but sad ballads during rehearsals. Even your sound check yesterday was depressing.”

They’re not wrong. Ever since that kiss on the beach—God, that kiss—I haven’t been able to focus on anything else. The way she felt in my arms, the soft sound she made when I pulled her closer, and the look in her eyes before she walked away.

“I almost invited Lila,” I admit quietly, while the others are distracted with gathering their carry-ons. “To come with us tonight.”

Cass frowns. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I can’t offer her what she deserves.” The words taste bitter.

“Can’t? Or won’t?” He fixes me with that penetrating stare that’s always made me feel like he can see right through mybullshit. “Luke, I’ve known you for all these years, and I’ve never seen you so instantly enamored by anyone—“

“Don’t,” I cut him off. “I know I’ve got it bad.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, but his eyes are knowing. “All I’m saying is, maybe it’s time to stop letting other people control your life.”

If only he knew how impossible that was.

Our driver is waiting with a sleek black SUV, and soon, we’re threading through Manhattan traffic toward our hotel. The others chat excitedly about tonight’s show at Madison Square Garden, but I’m lost in my own thoughts.

Years ago, when we were just starting out, playing at The Garden seemed like an impossible dream. Now we’re headlining, our band name in lights above one of the most iconic venues in the world. I should be ecstatic. Instead, I wonder if Lila will watch the performance on live stream or even miss me while I’m gone.

“Earth to Luke,” Nate’s voice breaks through my brooding. “We’re here, man.”

The Four Seasons rises above us, all glass and luxury.

In myroom, I sit at the baby grand piano the hotel provided at Emily’s request—she’s a great manager and always thinking of each band member. My fingers find the keys automatically, playing the melody that’s been haunting me for days.

It’s a new song—one I haven’t shared with the band yet. Too personal, too raw. Every note speaks of hope and new love.

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