by J. A. Coffey
And I do want her.
Even this Bethany—closed off and hardened, like a rose drying on the vine. She’s all sharp angles and tight ponytails. Completely opposite the beautiful violinist who’d filled my life with music a few years ago.
Yeah, I still want her.
“Doesn’t have to be too late.” My gut tenses as I say it, remembering my father’s threats to track me down. Remembering my looming concert schedule. After Finn’s wedding is over, I’m outta here whether I want to be or not, but there are a lot of hours between now and then. “Let’s do something.”
“Don’t you have other places to be?” she asks.
“Not today. Today I’m forgetting everything but you.”
She’s not impressed. “Ha.”
“Can’t I just spend the afternoon with the girl who stole my heart?” I try again.
She tilts her head. “I never stole it. You gave it up freely.”
“That’s true.” I smile, thinking of it. Of us.
“Then you dumped me at the first opportunity.” Her mouth twists like she’s sucking on a lemon.
Ouch. My smile drops like a drum beat. “We were both leaving, Beth. I signed with the band. You had a scholarship to Julliard.”
“Things change.” She shakes her head and smiles the smile she gives to everyone but me. The one I hate. “Anyways, it hasn’t all been for the worse, Liam. You and I just…ran our course.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.” I stroke her cheek. “We could start over.”
A flash of hope flickers in her eyes, so sudden it’s like striking a match. I’m holding my breath until her expression gutters and dies. “We’re too different.”
“We didn’t used to be. You knew me better than anyone ever has.” She probably still does.
“I don’t think so, Liam.” And there’s that hidden pain in her eyes. She turns to leave, her footsteps heavy on the sidewalk.
“If you won’t go out with me, at least tell me you’re going to do something better,” I call after her, half-joking. “Tell me you’re going to play your violin. That you have a concert to prepare for. That you can’t be with me because you’ve got to practice.”
“I’m not going to play.” She’s deflated. Listless. Hopeless. She tightens her hand on her ginormous cloth satchel. Her feet take two steps before the words spill out of her mouth. “Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe not ever.”
“Beth, come back.” I feel like someone slugged me. My jaw aches from clenching it. Did I do this? Was this the price of my leaving?
She doesn’t answer. I don’t know if I was pretending that one day I’d earn my way back to her, or that somehow she’d still be waiting for me, but now that we’re here and she’s making it clear she’s not interested, I lash out with the burning questions that tear me apart.
“You were the one with the most talent, Beth. What the hell happened to you?”
“You, Liam. You happened.” She confirms my fears with a defiant shake of her head. My heart does a slow spiral from my ribs to the pit of my stomach. There’s a spark in her green eyes, something dangerous and afraid at the same time. It sets my teeth on edge and not in a good way.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I don’t know why I’m angry and annoyed that she’s willing to walk away from me. Because it’s what I did to her? Yet it’s so unexpected. She’s always been the solid, steadfast love of my life. She never gives up. Not on me, not on her family.
I never dreamed she’d give up on herself.
“Nothing, it means nothing.” Her tone says it’s anything but.
I drag my hands though my hair. “C’mon, Bethany. Be straight with me. You used to love music more than anything. Maybe even more than me. What happened to you?”
Chapter Five
Beth
I can’t answer him, not with the hard lump of guilt lodged in my throat. I’m on the verge of leaving, but as usual, Liam can read me like a book. I stand there, tears stinging my eyes, until he lets me off the hook.
“You need to blow off some steam and we obviously need to talk. Let’s go for a walk. I haven’t seen pine trees in forever,” he suggests, changing the subject.
“You’re kidding, right? It’s going to rain again.” Another ominous roll of thunder rattles in the distance, punctuating the conversation.
“It’s Seattle—it’s always rainy.” He tosses me that careless smile that slashes my heart. “I’ll bring an umbrella.”
“You’re wearing dress clothes.” I point to his snazzy black suit and tie. The one that makes him look like a movie star.
“So are you,” he reminds me. But I’m in a casual sundress. I can go just about anywhere. Do anything, if I want.
“What, this old thing?” I tease, gripping the edges of my cardigan tighter as he steps closer, as if he’s going to protect me from a downpour.
“C’mon, Beth.” He wants an answer.
I try to think. According to Cormack and Paige, I don’t need to be back before dinner. And there’s a lot unspoken between me and Liam—things that need to be said. “I guess I could change.”
“We both could.” His words send a shiver down my spine.
This morning had been wonderful. I didn’t really want it to end. I hadn’t felt like myself in so long, it was like seeing the sunshine after a cold snap. And believe me, we get plenty of cold snaps in Seattle.
Another part of me isn’t ready to say goodbye to Liam. I have a few hours left to fulfill my fantasy. Why not stretch it a little bit longer before the real world comes crashing down?
Thunder booms again. Liam notices my hesitation.
“Forget the walk. We can hit the hotel and I’ll change clothes. We can figure out what we want to do then,” he suggests.
It sounds reasonable.
“Let me just make a quick call?” Before I commit to anything, I need to check on Cadence. Liam steps away to give me some privacy and I punch the speed dial for Cormack’s wife.
“Hey, Beth. How’s the luncheon?” Paige sounds totally at ease. In the background, I hear music that sounds like a lullaby. I can imagine Lucy waltzing around the room with Cadence clapping along.
“It was great. Actually, I met up with some old friends. We were thinking of taking the afternoon to catch up.” Please, let her say Cadence needs me. Then I’d have a perfect excuse to ditch Liam and the weird effect he has over me.
“No problem! Cadence is sleeping now, but she’s been a doll, as usual. I was just about to put Lucy down for a nap. Take your time. Cormack won’t be home until six.”
If Cormack leaves the pub, that means that Patrick will have to watch Ma during Happy Hour—not that there’s a big rush these days without bar snacks from our defunct kitchen. I should be on hand to help out, but it’s Thursday. It’s usually limited to a few regulars gearing up for the weekend.
“Sounds like I need to report for duty,” I say, with more than a little regret.
“Not until the evening shift. We’ve got this covered, Beth. Don’t worry,” Paige says. “Go have some fun for once.”
I eye Liam, tapping his fingers along the top of the car. He catches my eye, sending my heart into fits. “Okay, I’ll try. Bye.”
My mouth goes dry. That leaves me exactly five hours of alone time with Liam. Don’t get me wrong. Slipping back into our old rhythm comes easy. Part of me is thrilled to spend a day of uninterrupted adulting with my sexy rock star ex. The other part of me worries that this is exactly the kind of day that led to having Cadence in the first place. I stuff the phone into my big purse.
“All clear?”
“Yup.” I don’t elaborate, just wait for him to flip the locks before sliding into the passenger seat of his shiny Beemer. Liam revs the engine and pulls out of the parking lot, flashing me a smoldering look that turns my insides to mush.
We pull in to the parking garage at one of the most exclusive hotels in Seattle—the Pan Pa
cific. Liam nods at the security guards, grabs my sweating hand, and leads me to the elevator before I have a chance to gawk at the sharp East-Meets-West décor that punctuates the place. I clutch my cardigan tighter, hoping I don’t look too out of place.
My throat bobs as the elevator car jumps floors, speeding to the top. “Penthouse?”
He flushes. “Yeah. Got a private steward who takes care of anything we need.”
I look away. “Nice.”
In my family, I’m the private steward. I try not to think about it.
“It’s DeSilva’s doing, really. Me and the other guys don’t really care about that stuff.”
Right, Marco DeSilva, his big-time recording agent. I choke back nervousness. I’d never met him in person, or the other members of Wylde Ryder. Once Liam subbed in drums at the concert in Vancouver, they’d been off and running on the concert tour track. “Neat. So, we’re meeting them all right now?”
“If they’re in the room, yeah.” He catches my expression and gives my shoulders a squeeze. “Don’t worry, you’ll like them. They’re like family.”
I vaguely remembered Liam waxing about how awesome the record company was. Sounds like DeSilva is a big part of that. But Liam has always been torn between keeping his head down and rebelling against authority, so I’m kinda surprised he took so easily to someone else calling the shots. I compress my lips. “Even for you?”
His smile fades, like the final notes to a symphony. “I guess.”
Still, I feel better knowing that someone is watching out for Liam. Then the elevator doors open, and chaos ensues.
We sidestep a woman charging into the hall with her hand pressed to her headset. She’s speaking loudly, which kinda defeats the purpose of having a phone attached to her face.
I gape and whisper, “Who are all these people?”
“No clue.” He chuckles. More loud laughter and cheering roars from a group gathered around a…
“Is that a foosball table?”
In the foyer of the Pan Pacific Seattle penthouse.
“They’ll set us up with anything we ask for. One time, Finn requested twenty-two pounds of green peanut M&Ms, because, and I quote, ‘The green ones make you horny’. The douchebag actually sent the candy back when he found a yellow one.”
“Sounds like a great guy.”
“He could be, if he gets his shit straight. He’s supposed to be getting married to Trish next weekend.”
Ah, the wedding. The real reason Liam is in town. “Supposed to be?”
“DeSilva might squash it. He’s not thrilled. Trish works at some flower shop, so she won’t join us on the road, and...whoa.” Liam grabs my upper arms to keep me from colliding with a service tray filled with assorted chips, empty pizza boxes, and half a dozen chocolate chip cookies. “Looks like they had lunch.”
If the agent can cancel a band member’s wedding, I have to wonder. Did DeSilva have anything to do with Liam and me breaking up?
“Seems like DeSilva has a lot of power over your...schedules,” I observe. “Is he always that involved in your personal lives?”
An ugly red flush crawls up Liam’s neck. “He’s really smart, Beth. He knows how to make it in this biz.”
“If you say so.” Maybe Liam has finally found a man he can look up to, which isn’t so terrible. But something in me worries.
We move through the expansive penthouse and I have to cut DeSilva some slack. The place is gorgeous. If this is how Liam lives, then he’s doing really well.
The huge windows offer a spectacular view of the Seattle skyline, complete with the Space Needle and the distant Puget Sound. We’re so high up that I feel like a seagull, but the room smells faintly of rubber, bubble gum, and B.O. which rankles my nose. I’m glad I don’t have a black light handy, because the place has probably had a hundred hook-ups right where I’m standing.
A pair of girls who could be Kardashian twins recline on sectional sofa loungers while a good-looking guy with cropped hair and grey eyes strums an acoustic bass guitar in the middle. He’s got the most carefully groomed five-o-clock shadow I’ve ever seen.
“Zane,” Liam says. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Liam.” The guy seems to come back to life at the sight of us. “How was the lunch thing?”
“Good. This is Beth.” Liam slides his arm around my shoulders.
“Zane Ryder.” The guy nods and shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you, Beth.”
I feel like I should curtsy or something. Zane Ryder is rock star royalty—or at least on his way. His sultry vocals overlaid on Liam’s percussion and Finn’s guitar is the catapult that launched Wylde Ryder’s success. But the guy was no dummy. I’d caught him on TEDTalks last month giving a speech about the environment. He’d been surprisingly astute.
“Where’s Finn? I want him to meet Beth,” Liam says.
“Out.” Zane’s tone is surprisingly abrupt.
“With Trish?”
A muscle in Zane’s jaw tics. “Did you test the new speakers yet?”
“No, but DeSilva says they’re killer.” Liam grins.
“Marco and his stupid promo shit. Don’t be too sure. Test it out before you go onstage, okay?” Zane sinks back on the sofa, completely ignoring the supermodels on either side of him.
“I will.” Liam leads me to a private room near the back of the penthouse.
“He seems nice,” I comment once we hit the hallway.
“Zane’s like my older brother. He’s worried that all of DeSilva’s promises aren’t exactly legit.”
“He’s cautious. That’s smart.” I nod.
“Sometimes. He and Finn haven’t been getting along lately. I’m kinda glad he isn’t here to meet you today.”
“Why, is Finn a jerk?”
“Nah, he’s cool. He just…plays up the black sheep image a little too much. I think it gets under Zane’s skin.”
We head down the hall and I marvel at how huge the penthouse is. It literally takes up the entire top floor of the hotel.
“Figure it out, monkey dick!” A boisterous swarthy man in a white suit rounds the corner. “I need to close this freaking deal and my phone gets no reception here. You’d think with the money we’re shelling out for this penthouse that we could at least hit a few cell towers.”
So, Marco DeSilva himself, live and in the fleshy flesh.
“Marco, this is Beth,” Liam says between outbursts. “An old friend.”
Friend? I try not to feel anything.
“Later, kid.” DeSilva makes a shooing motion.
“But, she’s a musician…” Liam starts. Marco DeSilva waves distractedly at us, but gives Liam a thumbs-up as we move into the back bedroom. Ick. So much for good impressions.
Liam closes the door.
So, I’m a friend. At least Liam pitched me as a musician, something I haven’t considered myself in quite a while.
“Now what?” I can’t halt the plummeting sensation that sends my heart to my toes. I’m itching to get back to Cadence, to the pub, to places that are familiar to me. Where I know exactly where I stand.
“Going to ditch this suit and change into something more comfortable.” He starts kicking aside mini-piles of clothing in various shades of black and grey.
“And then?”
“We could grab something to eat?” he says,
Just a nice, friendly lunch. Okay, I can do this. “Sure.”
He slides out of his starched collar and white undershirt, then crouches to dig through the duffle bag on the floor for something to replace it. I tilt my head, admiring his bare torso for a moment. He’s still built like a long distance runner, all sleek muscles and smooth skin. No more unexplained bruises, though, which makes me feel less guilty about not holding him back. He’s become a rock god. I shiver. I can’t help it. Liam glances back, and I turn red when he catches me staring.
“I…uh…” I have no words. I’m drooling.
Liam tosses that smolder at me. “Want to pick my shirt? I suck at matching things.”
He’s still standing there. Shirtless. In a bedroom.
I give him a flat look. “You’re wearing black pants. They literally go with everything.”
“Oh, right.” He fiddles with his zipper. His black pants slither to the floor in a heap.
“Oh, blarhg.” I make an inarticulate noise and turn away again, my face burning, brain unable to form coherent thoughts. The image of his lithe, boxer-briefed bod singes the backs of my eyelids. “Liam, jeez!”
I haven’t been around a half-naked man since nine months before Cadence was born—since Liam, the moonlight, and a pilfered bottle of Irish whiskey.
“Sorry,” he replies, not sounding the least bit sorry. I hear the sound of clothes slapping skin as he gets dressed. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
I twist my hands in the sides of my light sweater. “That was a long time ago.”
“Too long.”
Breath stirs on the back of my neck and I turn to find him right behind me, so close that my front brushes his bare chest. My breasts go full and heavy under my sundress.
“Liam, wait.” I put my hands on his pecs, marveling for a moment at his warm, velvety skin, then give him a light push. “We’re just friends, remember?”
Disappointment strikes a chord in his face. He drags a faded band T-shirt over his head before slipping on an old pair of Chucks and his signature leather jacket. His tacky black boots are nowhere in sight. “You’re a lot more than that, if you want to be.”
He reaches over and strokes long fingers down the side of my cheek. The gesture is so achingly familiar. A pulling sensation starts in my midsection. I’m practically on fire and he’s only touched my face.
“I miss you, Beth. I didn’t realize how much until now.” His lips follow his lightly-callused fingertips. His breath sizzles along the tip of my ear, warms my cheek, the corner of my mouth. He’s close enough to kiss. Teasing me, but just out of reach. Forcing me to meet him partway. Not half—he comes most of the way and pauses, waiting for me to give in.
