Violet Lane (Love is Music Book 1)

by R. M. Lynn

  “We will, Mom, relax,” I assure her and hug her back when her arms go around me.

  “I’m going to go help Dad in the kitchen, okay? Behave,” she warns once more and gives me and Noah a pointed look.

  We watch her walk off. When she disappears around the corner, I punch Noah in the arm one last time. He scowls at me, rubbing his arm, and sits down on the couch as I do.

  “You know I didn’t mean it, right?” Noah says to me with a grin.

  “Yeah, I know,” I tell him.

  “I just know you’re sitting on your ass not doing a single thing about the way you feel for her.”

  I shrug. “You’re right. I know this.”

  “Well, what’re you doing then, man?” he questions.

  “I guess I’m just worried. She’s a friend. One that I don’t want to lose. If we… If we were to get serious, I could risk losing her,” I explain and run my hands through my hair. “I don’t know if I’m willing to mess that all up right now. Knowing that we can go back to just coexisting makes me a bit nervous, you know? I don't want to do that again.”

  “Whatever you say,” he mutters. “But she was already taken beforehand. Do you really want to risk someone else taking her from you again?”

  I don’t reply. He’s right. We don’t discuss it any further. Soon, our house is full of people. Football is on the TV screen in the expansive living room. Drinks are flowing, and everyone is eating and having a good time. Presents are exchanged after dinner, and once people start to trickle out, I am able to sneak up to my room and call Alivia.

  “Hey,” she answers almost immediately.

  “Hey,” I murmur into the phone and sit down on my bed while unbuttoning my shirt. “How was your Christmas?”

  “It was good. My grandpa gave me this necklace,” she tells me happily. “It’s got a little piano on it.”

  “Cute,” I chuckle out. “So, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Okay, what is it?”

  I shoulder my shirt off and mumble, “Stella and I split. I guess I just wanted to let you know.”

  She’s quiet for a moment and then, “When did that happen? Not today, right? Not on Christmas.”

  I bite back a laugh and say, “No, not today. It was a couple of days ago. We just kind of agreed it was for the best.”

  “I’m sorry you guys broke up,” she murmurs. “You seemed to really like each other.”

  “It wasn’t ever like that,” I insist. “We just kept each other company. It was everyone else who made it more than it was.”

  “So, you’re not upset?”

  “No, should I be?” When she doesn’t respond, I add quietly, “I’ve just been thinking about it, and I wanted you to know. Because, you know, we’re friends.”

  I run a hand through my hair and all but cringe at my words. I do want her to know because her knowing matters to me. Whether she ever wants to be with me, if we even can make it happen, she has to know I’ll be honest and up front with everything. She also needs to know that I’m available. While I might not be sure if I want to mess up our friendship in order to have a relationship, maybe she’s willing to take the risk. I’ll let her make the first move and let her know that I’m ready for when she decides to make it.

  “So, what else do you have planned for the night?” I ask and unbutton my dark jeans.

  “I might play some piano. Write a few lyrics, maybe,” she says on a sigh. “I want to write more. I think it’s what I want to do. Write songs, sell them, stuff like that.”

  “That’s awesome, Liv,” I proclaim. “I think you’d be a great performer, but you’ll be great at this, too.”

  She laughs, making me grin, and says, “I get too nervous, Kyler. I’m okay with being in the background.”

  “You’re never in the background, Alivia,” I say sternly. “I promise you that.”

  “So, I never asked,” she says suddenly changing the subject. “And I don’t mean to sound like I don’t believe in you, because I totally do, but what’s the backup plan? What will you do if you don’t make it big?”

  I let out a breath and mutter, “I don’t know. I want it so bad, you know? I’ve never thought about what would happen if I didn’t make it, if the band didn’t make it.”

  “I think whatever you do, you’ll be great at it,” she says softly. “I believe in you, and no matter what good things will happen for you.”

  There’s a soft knock at my door a second before my mom pokes her head inside. She gives me an apologetic smile when she realizes I’m on the phone.

  “Liv, I got to go,” I say softly. “My mom wants to harass me about something. Noah probably tattled on me or something.”

  My mom gives me a pointed look as she comes into the room and closes the door behind her.

  Alivia laughs softly and murmurs, “Okay, will I talk to you tomorrow?”

  “Yeah,” I reply. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  We say our goodbyes, and I toss my phone up by my pillows before looking up at my mom. She gives me a soft smile, runs her hands through her dark hair and sits on the edge of the bed next to me.

  “Did you have a good day, honey?” she asks me.

  “Yeah, did you?”

  She gives me a nod. “So, are you going to tell me who Liv is?”

  I smirk and run a hand through my hair as I mumble, “She’s just a girl.”

  Her raised eyebrow tells me she thinks otherwise. “Just a girl? She’s apparently important enough to call on the phone. I’m lucky to get a phone call from you anymore.”

  “Don’t guilt trip me,” I laugh out. “I like her, okay? She’s smart. She’s so pretty, too, Mom. I just… We’re friends, and I don’t know if I want to mess that up. She doesn’t seem to want to ruin it either.”

  “The best relationships come out of friendships, Kyler,” she says softly and grabs my hand. “You know how Conner and I met. He used to come into the diner and order something just to talk to me. We became friends before anything else. That’s how I know it’ll last, because he’ll always be my best friend.”

  “I know, Mom,” I say with an eye roll. “You only tell me every chance you get.”

  “I just want you to be happy, honey,” she replies.

  “I am,” I insist. “I will be. It’ll work itself out.”

  She stands and runs a hand over my hair. I let her, but not without giving her a displeased look. She pauses, her hand on my head, and she looks over my face.

  “You look more and more like him every day,” she whispers.

  “Don’t do that, Mom,” I snap and brush her hand away with mine. “You always have to say shit like that.”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s true,” she mutters, her eyes getting teary. “You don’t have to hate him just because he did what he did.”

  “He’s not worth the time and effort I’d have to put in for me to hate him,” I tell her and stand up. “He doesn’t exist, and you talking about him makes everything live on. He’s gone. He’s never coming back.”

  My father met my mother when they were in high school. She was so in love with him, according to her anyway. They did everything together. Two years after they graduated high school, Mom was pregnant with me. I remember him, my father, but it’s blurry memories of a relationship that was never real to begin with. I remember him teaching me how to play guitar. I remember him coming to shows at school. He was there. And then he wasn’t. The day he left, I remember vividly unlike everything else. I was about eight or nine. I remember the way he smelled like beer and cigarettes. He came home, and Mom was yelling. I saw it, when he hit her. Looking back, I can confidently claim that it wasn’t the first time he had done it. This was the only time, however, I had seen it happen. They argued some more before she finally told him to leave. I don’t think she ever thought he’d leave and not come back. Sometimes, I think she still regrets sending him away, because she thinks he never would have left if she didn’t.

  “You know I’m s
orry that you don’t have that relationship,” she mutters.

  “It’s not your fault, Mom,” I insist and put my hands on her shoulders. “Okay? We’ve talked about this. It isn’t anyone’s fault. We’re better off without him. You have Conner, and we’re happy, right?”

  “Of course,”

  “We did fine without him,” I go on to say. “I don’t need him. And neither do you.”

  She hugs me then, her hands going to my bare back, and I let out a breath. She whispers that she loves me, and I return the sentiment. She pulls away from me and heads to the door before looking back over her shoulder at me.

  “What are your plans for tomorrow?” she asks.

  I shrug and say, “I think Noah and I are going to the gym in the morning. We might meet up with Dylan later on.”

  “Well, keep me posted, okay?”

  I give her a nod and a small smile. She leaves the room, the door closing behind her, and I sink back down onto my bed, my legs handing off of the bed. Staring up at the ceiling fan, I close my eyes and let out a sigh. Grabbing my phone, I write out a text to Alivia.

  Kyler: I want you to visit.

  Her reply is almost instant, as if she had our conversation open already about to text me first.

  Alivia: It’s only been a week or so since you saw me last.

  Kyler: I miss you.

  Alivia: I miss you, too, Kyler.

  Kyler: You just miss my good looks ;)

  Alivia: Yep, that’s all you’re good for.

  I smirk to myself. We stay up late and text about all kinds of things. She tells me more about her grandpa as well as some of her friends back home. I tell her I miss her at least three more times throughout the night. She’s patient with me, tells me she misses me, too, and I hope to God she really does.

  ◆◆◆

  Chapter Nine

  Alivia

  I hit play on the video for the third time since I got it. I sit on my couch smiling uncontrollably. Violet Lane came together even over winter break to play a gig Dylan was able to secure. Kyler told me he was able to convince his mom and step-dad to come to their gig at a bar the night before so someone could film it for me. I loved watching them perform. Kyler is so in his element, and it’s something everyone in the world should experience.

  “What’re you smiling at, Princess?” my dad asks as he comes into the living room and sits down next to me on the couch.

  “This video,” I say and tip the phone so his eyes can take in the short film. “I have a… My friends, they’re in this band. I’ve gone to a few of their shows, but since I can’t be there, one of them sent me this video.”

  My dad takes in Violet Lane performing Here Without You by 3 Doors Down. It’s not his type of music, but he seems to enjoy it either way judging by the small smile on his face.

  “They’re good,” he tells me when the song ends with cheers from the crowd.

  I pause the video and put the phone down next to me, saying, “They’re amazing. You should see them live. The video doesn’t do them justice.”

  “I’m glad you have friends with the same interests as you, honey,” he tells me. “I can see how happy it makes you.”

  “I really think being friends with them has helped me pinpoint what I want to do once I graduate.”

  “That’s great, Livy,” he praises and squeezes my shoulder. “So, where do they all live if you’re not able to see them?”

  “Michigan,” I say softly. “I think he said they’re about an hour or so away from Detroit.”

  “Who’s he?”

  I bite my bottom lip and mutter, “Kyler. He’s the lead singer. We’re… We’re pretty close.”

  “How close?” Dad asks with a raised eyebrow.

  I roll my eyes and tell him, “It’s not like that. We’re friends. God, Dad.”

  He chuckles. “Well, I’m just wondering. You know being an involved parent or whatever.” We laugh together, and he adds, “I know your mother will say otherwise, but if you wanted to, you’re allowed to go visit. You’re a grown up, you know. I will say, I’d feel better if you went with a friend.”

  “I don’t know, Dad,” I mumble. “I don’t know what that’d mean if I did.”

  He eyes me skeptically as I pick at the maroon nail polish on my nails. “What does that mean?” he asks.

  “We’re friends, but sometimes… A lot of the time,” I ramble on, “I think I like him more than that. And I know he used to feel something more for me. But now I’m not sure.”

  Dad lets out a breath, probably wishing Mom wasn’t at work right now so she could talk to me about boys instead of him. After a few moments of silence, he sighs again and turns to face me fully.

  “I’m not one to promote my daughter canoodling with young men, but I do want you to be happy,” Dad explains. “You’re an adult, you can make adult decisions. So, if this Kyler guy is someone you want to be with, I didn’t raise you not to go after what you want.”

  “I know, Dad,” I mumble. “He’s really great.”

  Dad stands and wipes his hands on his jeans. “Well, let me know if you decide to head out there.”

  I give him a nod. When he heads toward his office, I get up and head upstairs to my room. Pressing a few buttons on my phone, I stick it to my ear to the phone and listen to it ring. It’s barely ten in the morning, and I know Kyler tends to sleep in the morning after a gig.

  “Hey,” he answers after a few rings, his voice groggy with sleep.

  “Hey, did I wake you?” I ask softly as I sit on my bed.

  He exhales, and I can hear him shifting around in bed. “Yeah, but it’s alright. I should probably get up anyway. What’s going on with you?”

  “I saw your video,” I tell him. “Sorry, I didn’t respond last night when you sent it. I was asleep. But I’ve watched it a bunch, and each time it’s better and better.”

  “Thanks,” he says and I can hear the smile in his voice. “How was your New Years?”

  “Quiet,” I answer. “I just hung out with my parents. I know. Lame.”

  He chuckles sleepily. “So lame.”

  “So, anyway,” I begin, “I talked to my dad. I showed him your video, and then we started talking about me visiting you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. What do you think?”

  “I think I can’t wait to see you,” he says, the smile still in his voice. “When would you come?”

  I bite my bottom lip and reply, “Whenever you’ll have me.”

  “Today?”

  “Really?”

  I hear him shifting again, and I assume he’s sitting up. He then says, “Why not? If you leave within the hour, you’ll be here around two or so. Weather is good here, so you wouldn’t hit any traffic.”

  “You really want me to come? Today?” I ask and run a hand through my hair.

  “Of course, I want you to come. I’d fucking love that, Livy,” he insists. “You’re more than welcome. My parents won’t care. I can drive out there if you felt better about it?”

  “No, my mom would freak out if a six foot two, rock god, grown man showed up at her door asking for me,” I object, which makes him laugh.

  “So, come. We have two weeks left of break, and I can’t wait to see you knowing you can come,” he explains softly. “Just for a few days?”

  “Okay,” I say after a moment. “I’ll pack my stuff up now.”

  “I’m super fucking excited, Liv, I have to say,” he says with more energy in his voice now.

  “I’ll text you before I leave?”

  “Yeah, do that,”

  We hang up, and I quickly go to my closet to pull out a pink duffel bag. I pack clothes for three days, my makeup bag, and two different pairs of shoes. I bring the back into the bathroom to pack up shampoo, body wash, and a facial scrub. Afterward, I head back downstairs and knock on my dad’s office door.

  “Hey, Dad?” I murmur and poke my head in.

  “Yes, Princess?” he asks and turns h
is chair to face me. He eyes my bag and smirks. “Going somewhere?”

  “I decided to go visit for a couple days,” I tell him. “I’ll be back Sunday. You’ll tell Mom for me?”

  “Sure, honey,” he assures me. “She’ll be livid, so thank you for leaving me with that. But have fun, and make sure you call me when you get there okay?”

  “Okay, Dad,” I say as he stands to hug me.

  I get into the car, text Kyler, who gives me his address, and set my GPS. I pull the car out of the garage and head to the interstate.

  ◆◆◆

  Three and a half hours later, I pull up to a gray and white house, with a red door. Christmas lights adorn the exterior. Noah’s Challenger and Kyler’s Jeep are in the driveway. My heart is beating a mile a minute as I text Kyler with shaky fingers that I’m parked behind his Jeep. A minute after I send the text, Kyler is jogging down the walkway of the house in charcoal gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Snow is on the ground, so he must be freezing. I climb out of the car, and before I can say anything, he pulls me into a hug.

  “You’re freezing,” I say through my own chattering teeth.

  “It’s worth the hug,” he says happily. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too,” I say and tighten my arms around his middle.

  He pulls away, looking over my face, and then asks, “Where’s your bag? I can take it in for you.”

  I pull it out of the backseat, and he takes it from me. His arm goes around my shoulders as we head to the front door. The front door opens to a grand entrance with a dining room off to one side and a formal living room to the other. A staircase is to my left with a front closest and the door to the garage on my right. A hallway adorned with family photos leads to a powder room half way down and opens up to the kitchen and possibly the living room. A glass sliding door behind the kitchen table leads out into a snow-covered yard and deck.

  “It’s quiet in here,” I murmur and look up into his eyes.