Rock Star Romance Ultimate: Volume 1
Page 68
Disappointed.
But I couldn’t say that. My debut was a success. People had actually shown up to see my work. It was a bitter sweet victory. Because the one person I wanted to share this night with, wasn’t here.
I cleared my throat. “I’m just a little overwhelmed. Do you have any idea how we d-did?”
“I haven’t added it up yet. We’ll do an inventory on Monday and issue you a check by next week.”
My cheeks flamed, and I jerked a nod.
In the real world people discussed money. But it wasn’t something I was used to. Or comfortable with.
“It’s f-fine. Whenever.”
It wasn’t like I was hurting for funds. My bank account was swollen to the point of bursting, thanks to my father. As it turned out, I’d never been destitute. Not really. My grandparents had provided a sizable trust fund. One I was to inherit on my twenty-fifth birthday, or upon graduation from college. Prior to meeting those two conditions, I could only access the money for “necessities.”
In the world I’d grown up in, necessities included trips abroad, a car, my tuition, and a number of other things enumerated in the one hundred and fourteen page document on file with my family’s attorney.
Because money was never discussed, and always taken for granted, my father never thought to ask if I was drawing funds from my grandparent’s estate. He’d just assumed. He’d made a lot of assumptions. But then, so did I. I’d assumed that he didn’t love me. And that I was a disappointment.
Tanner’s gaze landed on the balding man standing in front of a grouping of charcoals at the far end of the gallery. The little man scribbled in his small notepad, wearing a most serious expression.
“I can’t believe Cecil Burke is here,” Tanner marveled. “How many favors did your mother have to call in to convince him to fly to Austin?”
Again, I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. Getting the most renowned art critic in the country to attend my show was a small price for my mother to pay to save her marriage. Not that my father would actually file for divorce. But he was pissed about all the deception. And no amount of Abigail’s whining, or her pleas that she was “only doing it for my own good” and “trying to build character” was cutting the mustard with my father. In public, they’d smile. Hold hands. But the rift between them wouldn’t heal for a long time. And maybe I should’ve felt guilty about that. But I didn’t.
Before I could answer Tanner’s question, his receptionist made eye contact with him from across the room. “I’d better go see what she wants,” he said. “Enjoy yourself, Lily. Have a drink. Or ten. You deserve it.”
I caught his arm as he turned to leave. “T-Tanner.” He inclined his head when I didn’t say anything right away. My stutter was markedly better, but I still did my counting ritual. “Th-thank you for hosting my show.”
His features softened, and he patted my hand. “Thank you for making me a shit ton of money.”
He gave me a wide grin, then sauntered off.
Snagging another glass of champagne off one of the server’s trays, I wandered over to the window. The city was beautiful. So different from Dallas. Smaller, with an artsy vibe that I’d grown to love in the week I’d been here. But I wasn’t sure how much of that adoration had to do with Cameron. I looked for him everywhere. Saw his face in every musician I passed on the street. And it was his voice that I heard in the melodies that floated to the window of my second story loft.
Now that the show was over, maybe I’d have the nerve to seek him out. I just didn’t want him to tell me to leave before I’d accomplished this one thing. Because I would. Leave, that is. Austin was Cameron’s city, and I could live anywhere.
“Oh my God, Lily!” Tess exclaimed as she rushed up, and threw her arms around me. “You did it! I can’t believe it! Your work is so… gah!!”
I hugged her back. “Thank you.”
Her gaze flicked to Bobby when she pulled away. “We’re going to go get a late supper. Do you want us to wait for you?”
If I were honest, I wanted her to move to Austin so we could be roommates again. But that was never going to happen.
“I can’t duck out of my own party.”
The crowd was thinner now, with only a handful of people milling around. But I was my mother’s daughter, and I’d wait until the last of my guests departed to take my leave. Just like I was taught.
“M’kay,” she said. “How about breakfast tomorrow before I head back to Big D?”
Nostalgia washed over me and I looped my arm through hers. “You can’t stay a couple of more days? My treat.”
She shook her head, smiling. “I still can’t get used to you having money to throw around. But, no. Some of us have classes to attend.”
“Hey. Nobody told you to major in business.”
When Tanner had agreed to host my show, the head of the art department had allowed me to graduate early. That wasn’t special treatment. Ms. Esteban couldn’t care less who my family was or how much money they donated to the school. She told me that my show was “real world experience,” and far more valuable than anything I could learn in three months sitting in a classroom.
“Be that as it may,” Tess said. “I have to get back. But, breakfast, okay?”
I nodded, my chin quivering when she gave me another quick hug.
An hour later, Tanner and I waved to the last patron, heading to his car with an original Lily Tennison charcoal tucked under his arm.
“I’m beat,” Tanner said as he flipped the switch next to the door. The room went dark except for the canned lights illuminating all the art work. “Do you have your key?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll see you Monday, then. That is, if you still want to work at my lowly gallery after all this.”
I laughed. “I’ve waited for years to land this k-kind of job. You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”
“Good answer.” He tossed me a wink before heading to the private parking lot in the back.
I toed off my sky high Louboutin pumps, then plucked a half empty bottle of champagne from one of the tables. Slipping into the back room where all my oil paintings were displayed, I bit down a smile, noting all the yellow stickers affixed to the frames. Two thirds of the pieces were sold.
Spinning around when I heard footsteps, I nearly dropped the bottle of Moet when I saw him standing mere feet away, bathed in soft light. He looked like art. And inspiration. A beautiful muse.
“Cameron.”
He glanced me over like he wasn’t sure if I was real. “Hey,” he finally said, then held out a bouquet of roses wrapped in green paper. American Beauties, like the ones he’d given me in Dallas. “Congratulations on… um… all this…”
While Cameron fumbled over his greeting, I inched closer. And before he could finish, my mouth was on his. It was supposed to be a friendly hello. Well, more than friendly, but I didn’t intend to attack him.
His lips parted, maybe to protest, but I couldn’t resist, and my tongue found his, twisting and tangling. Pulling me closer, his fingers threaded my hair. And God, how I’d missed him. His taste, and his smell, and the way he felt pressed against me.
“I missed you so much,” I whispered. And I wished I hadn’t. Because whatever magic lingered between us, my words broke the spell.
Cameron took a step back, looking at me with wounded eyes. “You want to tell me what you’re doing here, Lily?”
***
Cameron
“Would you like to sit down?” Lily asked, hopeful. But I didn’t want hopeful. I wanted answers.
“Just tell me why you’re in Austin.”
The smile wobbled on her lips. “Tanner contacted me. I guess you sent him some pictures of my work. And he offered to host my first show.”
“You couldn’t get your mama to hook you up somewhere else? Isn’t that why you ran off?” I could see her struggling to answer. And yeah, I was a dick for not waiting for her response. But I couldn’t help myself. “I guess I
served my purpose, right? Mommy and Daddy couldn’t wait to welcome you back. For the right price.” Me. I was the price. And I dared her to deny it. But she didn’t. And that was worse. “I read the email from your mom, Lily.”
She inclined her head. “Wh-what email?”
“The demand letter Abigail sent you the day you walked out on me. You left it on my computer.”
I thought maybe she’d jump my ass for invading her privacy. But it was sorrow I detected in her gaze, not anger. “If you r-read that, then you’d know my m-mother didn’t welcome me anywhere.”
Any bit of empathy vanished when I shifted my attention to the shiny new Honda parked at the curb. “I guess it all worked out. I would’ve held out for a Mercedes, though. It’s not like your folks can’t afford it.”
I thought I’d feel better once I got everything off my chest. But I didn’t. And being around Lily was too hard. Too much.
“Wait!” she said, when I spun for the door. “Cameron, please! Just let me explain!” But I didn’t need any more answers. I just needed to be gone.
“I live here now,” she blurted, nearly colliding with my back when I skidded to a stop. For once, it was me who couldn’t find the words. “I’m so s-sorry, Cameron. For everything. I d-didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t just let you take c-care of me. I wanted to b-be your equal. But I didn’t know how to d-do that.”
“So you thought that leaving without a word and not returning my calls was a better option?”
A tear raced down her cheek, and it took all my willpower not to wipe it away. “I thought it was my only option. As much as I wanted t-to be with you, I wanted this too.” She looked around the gallery, frowning. “I was going to move to New Mexico and start fresh. I f-figured if I did that, then maybe you and I could have a chance. But then I found out I didn’t have to.”
“Why’s that?” The little crease formed between her brows, a sure sign there was more to the story. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”
Given what I knew about her mother, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit if it was something drastic. Like a promise to marry some douchebag in exchange for a few months of freedom.
“My g-grandparents, they left me some money. A lot of m-money. I didn’t know about it until recently.“ A smile curved her lips. “When I found out that I d-didn’t need anyone’s help to follow my d-dreams, they lead me here. To you. And if you can’t forgive m-me, I understand. But I had to t-try. Because I love you. And I know how s-stupid that sounds. Because nobody falls in l-love in a week. And—”
My mouth crashed into hers, partly to shut her up, but mostly because I couldn’t go another minute without kissing her. I had her up against the wall a second later. “It didn’t take me a week to fall in love with you, Lily. I think I loved you from the start.”
She blinked at me with that look of disbelief she wore so often. Like she was waiting for the stipulation. But there was none. Yeah, we had a lot to work out. But I loved her. And something told me I always would. I kissed her again, tasting the promise on her lips.
When my hand slipped under her skirt, she tipped back. “We can’t.”
Lacing our fingers, I pinned her arm over her head. “Why not?”
“Because, I work here now.”
If it were possible, I got harder. She worked here. And she was staying.
“Baby, you’re killing me. I haven’t had sex in six weeks.” I ground my erection against her hip. “We’re dealing with a serious situation here. It might have lasting effects. What if everything heats up and we won’t be able to have kids someday?” She went still in my arms, and I looked down my nose at her. “What?”
“You want kids?”
I’d never thought about it. But when I looked into Lily’s eyes, I saw the future I never knew I wanted. Kids. And a home, alive with music, her paintings on every wall. The world slowed down, and everything fell into place. It was like harmony. Or hitting the perfect note. Finding the one lyric that made the song complete. That was Lily.
Her eyes widened when I peeled her off the wall. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, nervous laughter bubbling from her lips.
I pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, then guided us toward the door. “You didn’t. And to answer your question: yeah, I want kids. I want everything with you, Lily.”
She slanted her gaze to mine and gave me a funny smile as she dug the keys out of her pocket.
I waited on the sidewalk, watching the slow moving traffic on Sixth while she locked up the gallery.
“Where do you want to go?” she asked, joining me at the curb.
“Home, baby. Take me there.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
* * *
Lily
I waited until Cameron fell asleep, then tiptoed to my closet, my jewelry box tucked under my arm. We’d come to my loft since it was closer to the gallery. And strangely, there was no weirdness. It was like Cameron fit into my space. Just like he did in my head and in my heart.
Dropping onto my butt, I crisscrossed my legs and laid the box in front of me. Fur Elise played softly as I dug out the note Cameron had written me before he left Dallas. I’d never read it. And maybe I shouldn’t now. But I didn’t want there to be anything unsaid between us. I’d hurt him, and he’d forgiven me. But there was a part of me that needed to know how much.
As I slipped the letter from the plastic bag, a silver necklace slid out. A guitar pick on a dainty gold chain with a diamond in the corner. Smiling, I ran my thumb over my name, inscribed on the back, along with the date Cameron and I had met.
Holding the treasure to my heart, I read the first line of the letter. No, not a letter. A song.
“You wrote me a song…” I whispered in amazement.
“Yeah, I did.” Whipping my head around, I blinked at Cameron. Smiling, he pushed off the door frame and closed the distance between us. “Whatcha doing, baby?”
Holding up the paper, I shrugged. “I never read this. I thought… I assumed…”
Plopping down behind me, he wrapped me in his arms. “You thought I left you hate mail?” He kissed my temple. “What am I going to do with you?”
I snuggled against his chest. “Sing me your song.”
“It’s your song.”
Slanting my gaze up to his, I smiled. “Then sing me my song.”
And he did. Easing me onto my back, he gave me all the words. And all his love. And when he slipped inside me a moment later, whispering the final refrain against my lips, I tasted all my tomorrows in his kiss.
EPILOGUE
* * *
Cameron - Three months later
Glancing at the clock in the dressing room at the Parish, I checked the time and then turned my attention back to my lyrics. I’d been writing like a demon since Lily and I got together. I had enough material for two albums. It was a good variety. Sad stuff from the six weeks we were apart, and a bunch of soulful ballads.
Now the band just needed to work out a deal with our label. Metro had come to us with a bullshit offer, which we’d declined, and now we were in a holding pattern. Without a manager to negotiate for us, the other labels hadn’t thrown their hats into the ring.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t sweating it. Lily and I were still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship. I didn’t want to leave her to go out to LA and record an album. And after four years of touring, the band needed the time off. I was happy and content playing our weekly gig at Chase’s club on Sixth. For the moment, anyway.
Logan barreled through the door. “You’ll never guess who’s here,” he said, rubbing his hands together feverishly. “Dylan Boothe and Beckett Brennin. Front row.”
Sean crashed through the door with Christian hot on his heels. “Guess who’s here?”
“Dylan and Beckett,” I deadpanned, trying to hide my smile when his face fell.
Dylan Boothe and Beckett Brennin were the lead singers for Leveraged—the biggest band in the country. They hailed from Austin, and w
ere one-third of the Big Three—the powerhouse trio of bands from our city. Titans in the industry, they dominated the charts and sold out venues all over the world.
Sean grabbed a beer from the bucket on the table and twisted off the cap. “What do you think they’re doing here? And where’s the rest of the crew?”
We knew every member of the Big Three, but not well. All twelve members still resided in Austin. Still frequented the clubs and dive bars. And every one of the bands had played the Parish. But that was before my brother bought the club. So it’s not like we rubbed elbows with any of them frequently.
Chewing on the pen I was holding, I reclined against the couch cushions. “They’re not touring right now.”
“I’m surprised Tori let them stray that far from home base,” Logan said, motioning for me to throw him a beer. “She keeps pretty close tabs on them. I don’t know how they can stand it, letting their manager call all the shots.”
The room fell silent for a moment, the way it always did when someone spoke about Tori Grayson. Her band, Damaged, was the first band out of Austin in two decades to hit it big. Huge. Tragically, they were cut down at the height of their fame. A freak bus accident took the life of Rhenn Grayson, Tori’s husband and the genius front man for Damaged, and Paige Dawson, her best friend and their lead guitarist. Tori almost died in the accident. But after she recovered, she formed Twin Souls Management with her other best friend, Taryn Ayers. Logan and I had been trying to get one or both of them to return our calls for weeks with no luck.
Logan sighed. “I know Tori’s not a ‘regular’ manager; but she’s not performing anymore. I had to do a double take when I saw her in the paper a couple weeks ago. She was wearing a suit. I mean, it was a chick suit, and she looked pretty fucking hot, but it was still a suit.”
“Dude.” Sean shook his head incredulously. “You know why she doesn’t perform. Have a little empathy.”
“Who cares how she looks—it’s a miracle she’s still breathing,” Christian added quietly. “She broke nearly every bone in her body.” Wincing, he reached reflexively for his side. The injury was slow to heal, taking a month before he was able to walk around without taping his ribs. And he was only in the hospital overnight. Tori had been in a rehab center for months after the accident.