A Rocker and a Hard Place

by Keane, Hunter J.

  “I missed you every single day,” I said quietly. At first, I had just missed being with him, being able to see his face every day. Talking on the phone helped, but it wasn’t the same. Then, after we broke up, I missed everything about him.

  “I’m here now.” Tyler shook his head. “I know that doesn’t make up for the past, but it’s all I can offer you.”

  “Well that, and a private jet.”

  I knew that I was deflecting our conversation away from getting too serious and Tyler knew it, too. He stared at me long and hard until the plane started to slowly descend.

  I turned away from him, craning my neck to see through the window. “Are we in Paris already?” I joked.

  “Not quite.”

  “I’m disappointed.”

  “If you want to go to Paris, I’ll take you to Paris. Just say the word.” He was still in serious mode.

  “Not today,” I said softly, sitting back in my seat. I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t bring myself to have a serious conversation with Tyler about what was developing between us. It was clear that we both had strong, complex feeling for each other and we were going to have to address them eventually.

  The landing was smooth, but Tyler didn’t relax until the plane stopped moving completely.

  The pilot announced over the intercom, “Welcome to Nashville, Mr. Cole.”

  As soon as I heard the city, I knew instantly why Tyler had brought me there. Nashville had been our version of Paris.

  “Nashville?” I felt light-headed.

  “You invited me into your home, now it’s my turn to invite you into mine.”

  Tyler had a limo waiting on the tarmac.

  The limo took us slowly into town, taking back roads and detours. It occurred to me that Tyler had given the driver instructions prior to our arrival. This approach meant I got to have a guided tour of the city with a limo as my chariot and Tyler as my tour guide.

  “That’s the coffee shop where I used to play gigs every Wednesday night when I first moved to town,” he said, pointing to a small hole-in-the-wall called Coffee Café.

  “I remember you talking about it.” I had been awed by the fact that Tyler was playing his music in front of an audience every week.

  “My record label is in the building on our left.”

  He said it so casually, the way most people might talk about their dentist office. I wondered when exactly he had gotten comfortable being “one of them.”

  We stopped for lunch at Tyler’s favorite restaurant where they actually had a burger named after him.

  “Really? The Cole Burger?” I scoffed heavily at the name, but had to admit it sounded delicious.

  “The owner is a fan,” he said with a lazy shrug.

  “What’s that like?”

  “What?”

  I nodded to where two girls were snapping pictures at a nearby table. “Having fans. What’s that like?”

  He thought for a few seconds. “At first, it’s like always having a chaperone. You can’t act out or do anything wrong because someone is always watching. But eventually, you stop caring and pretty soon, you don’t even notice that they are there.”

  “Don’t you ever just want to eat your meal in peace?” I had only been in Tyler’s world a short time, but I was already tired of the staring and whispering.

  “Now you understand why I ended up staying in Salvation.”

  That thought had never occurred to me. I’d assumed that he had stayed because of me, and eventually because of T.J. I had not considered that he had been using Salvation as an escape from his celebrity lifestyle.

  “How much time do you actually spend in Nashville?”

  “As much time as I can. I’ve got a house out in Malibu for when I need to be in L.A. for promotional appearances and award shows. But that lifestyle has never really suited me.”

  “That’s not what the tabloids say,” I said with a raised eyebrow. In fact, according to the magazines, Tyler fit very well into that world of debauchery and glamor.

  Tyler stared hard at the table. “It’s hard not to get swept up into that world. Everyone out there acts like they’ve got your back. Before you know it, your agent is stealing your money and your girlfriend is sleeping with your best friend. I tolerate that world because I have to in order to keep my career going. But if I never went back, I’d be fine with that.”

  “What happens when that world finds out about T.J.?” I asked. It was something I had been thinking about for a long time and I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear the answer.

  “I’m hoping to avoid that for as long as possible.” Tyler frowned deeply. “If I had it my way, they would never know about him. Or you.”

  “Really?” I couldn’t keep back a flinch as my chest tightened.

  “I’m not saying that because I’m ashamed of T.J. or because I want to lie about the two of you. I would just prefer to keep you out of that life. It can break the strongest person.”

  I looked deep into his eyes, remembering all the times I had seen him on the news getting into fights or being arrested for drunken behavior. “Did it ever break you?”

  “Almost.” He returned my gaze just as forcefully. “But anytime I got close to being broken, I thought of you. You gave me strength.”

  “Are you an alcoholic?” I asked bluntly.

  Tyler had shown up to my house drunk the night after he found out about T.J. Before that, he’d been in the news almost every week for some scandal. But thinking back, I had never actually seen him drink anything. I knew that alcoholics often did their drinking alone.

  “Maybe.” He sighed. “Probably.”

  “When was the last time you had a drink?”

  “The night I showed up at your house drunk.” Tyler tapped his fingers on the table in a steady rhythm. “After the truth about T.J. sank in, I knew I had to make a change.”

  “You poured me that drink on the plane.” Knowing how tense he had been, it must have tortured him not to make a second drink for himself.

  Tyler waved away my concern. “I’ve been drinking or medicating away the last ten years of my life. It feels good to feel things again.”

  “Spoken like someone who’s never been through childbirth.”

  “Are you planning to turn every serious conversation we have today into a joke?” Tyler’s eyes flashed with annoyance.

  “Sorry.” I shifted in my seat. “You should know more than anyone that I’m not good with serious, heartfelt talks.”

  “I remember.” Tyler smiled fondly. “I remember everything about you.”

  I squirmed under his piercing gaze. “What else do you have planned for us today?”

  “Would you like to come home with me?” His eyes twinkled flirtatiously.

  “You’re kind of my ride, so I don’t think I have much choice.”

  He leaned back, a satisfied smile on his face. “Then my plan is working perfectly.”

  Tyler lived a few miles from the restaurant and the houses got progressively nicer the closer we got to his house. The driver stopped at an iron gate and punched in the code that Tyler gave him. We rolled forward, down a long driveway.

  “You live in a museum?” I teased.

  His house was obnoxiously big.

  “Funny.”

  He helped me out the car, keeping my hand as he led me to the front door. I noted that his hand shook a little as he fit the key into the lock, but I pretended not to notice. I remembered how anxious I had felt the first time I let him into my home, so I could understand what he was feeling.

  “Come inside,” he said, pulling me forward.

  I had been joking about his house being a museum, but I hadn’t been far off. With marble floors and vaulted ceilings, it was a stark contrast to my little shack back in Salvation.

  Our feet echoed loudly with each step. Tyler gave me a grand tour, glancing nervously at me every few seconds. I got the impression that he wanted me to approve of his home.

  “It’s a beautiful home,
Ty,” I said as we climbed the stairs to the second floor.

  “It’s just a house,” he said, but I could tell he didn’t mean it.

  “How many bedrooms does it have?”

  “Seven.” He smiled sheepishly. “I know that’s a little crazy considering that I live here alone. But when I bought this place, I assumed one day it would fill up.”

  I couldn’t fault him for thinking about a future family when he bought the place. “Why didn’t you ever get married, Tyler? Surely you’ve had plenty of respectable suitors.”

  “Respectable?” He laughed. “Not the word I would use for the girls that throw their panties on my stage.”

  “Still… not even one lucky lady?”

  Truthfully, I had gotten close to remarrying a couple of times. Neither guy had been the love of my life, but eventually you got tired of being alone while you waited for Prince Charming to come along. The only reason I hadn’t gone through with it was because of T.J. If I did decide to bring a man into our lives, I wanted to be sure it was the right man.

  Tyler hadn’t had the same concern over the years, so it was surprising that he had been so cautious.

  “It might be hard to believe, but I’m not exactly the marrying kind.” Tyler opened a door and stepped inside.

  “That’s not true.” I followed him into the room. “Do you have a recording studio in your house?”

  “A small one.” Another sheepish grin. “I record different versions of songs and listen to them before I go into the real studio.”

  I took a slow lap around the room, running my hands over the expensive looking equipment. “Is this a new song?” I asked, picking up a notebook with lyrics scratched in Tyler’s penmanship.

  “It’s not finished yet,” he explained. “I got stuck about halfway through.”

  “May I?” I waited for his permission to take a closer look.

  “Knock yourself out.”

  He perched on the arm of the worn leather chair while I sank into its seat. The lyrics at the beginning of the song were strong, but the passion started to fade near the middle.

  “You need a stronger bridge,” I said, reaching for a pen. “And the last line of this verse is a little weird.”

  “Weird?”

  “Maybe I’m missing something. Can you run through it for me?”

  Tyler crossed the room and picked up a guitar. As he started playing the song, I realized that my critique had been wrong. What looked weak on paper, actually sounded just right. But the song still needed an ending and now that we had started, neither of us would be able to stop until it was finished. By the time we were done, it was almost dark outside.

  “What time is it?” Tyler’s head snapped up in alarm.

  “Um, just after six.” I was surprised when he jumped to his feet. “Why?”

  “We need to go.”

  “Go where?” I had just assumed that Tyler’s house was the last stop on our tour of Nashville.

  Tyler refused to tell me where we were going next. We got into the limo and headed back the way we had come. As we drove, I felt a weird sense of déjà vu.

  “Why does this seem familiar to me?”

  “Because you’ve been here before,” was his reply.

  I craned my neck to see as much as possible through the window. It wasn’t until I saw the purple and gold sign that I realized where we were headed.

  “Lyric? It’s still here?”

  That hole in the wall auditorium where we had played our first gig. I had only been there once, but I would never forget that place.

  “It’s one of the hottest places to play in the city.” Tyler opened the door when the wheels stopped, too excited to wait. We were still a few yards away from the main door.

  “Who’s playing tonight?” I looked at the sign but it only said “Special Performance.” A long line of people had already formed.

  “Me.” Tyler grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the side of the building. “Hurry up. We need to get inside before someone sees us.”

  A security guard let us in via a side door and we were escorted to the dressing room by a woman with a clipboard. With a brief introduction she informed us that her name was Lily.

  “You’ll go on in thirty minutes. We managed to sell out even on such short notice.” She batted her lashes at Tyler. “I can’t say I’m surprised about that.”

  “How long have you had this performance planned?” I hurried to keep up with them as Lily marched purposefully down a long hall.

  “I called my agent Saturday night. Lyric is usually closed on Mondays so the venue was free. My agent was able to arrange it quite easily.”

  Lily threw open the door. “Here you go. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll come to get you when it’s show time.”

  She continued to stare at Tyler long past an acceptable amount of time. I glared at her until she finally walked away.

  “Your face looks a little green,” Tyler said.

  “Green?”

  “You know. With jealousy?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, that’s it. I’m jealous.”

  “Don’t try to deny it. You know you wanted to slap her with that clipboard.” Tyler stepped aside to let me enter the room.

  “I’m not a violent woman.” I eyed the room carefully, then took a seat on the sleek, white couch.

  Tyler wasn’t going to let it go. “I’m pretty sure I remember you getting into more than one fight when we were growing up.”

  “Name one time?”

  “The time you threw a glass of punch on Kara Tanner’s head after she tried to kiss me at the Homecoming dance? Does that sound familiar?”

  “I don’t think that was me.”

  I actually did remember that fight quite well. Kara had always been a nightmare, and it had felt good watching the pink liquid run down her face.

  “What about that time you punched Mike Lewis?”

  “I was defending your honor!”

  Tyler laughed. “Face it, Em- you have a temper.”

  I crossed my arms stubbornly over my chest. “Only when it comes to people messing with you, apparently. I haven’t gotten in any fights in the last decade and I doubt that’s a coincidence.”

  Tyler’s smile was tight. He had been slowly pacing the room since we entered and I could tell that he was tense.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’m always tense before a show.” He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “I used to have a couple of drinks to fix that, but…”

  “Come over here.” I patted the seat next to me.

  Tyler hesitated, but he took a seat.

  I placed my hands on his shoulders and very slowly began to work his knotted muscles with my fingers. His head dropped forward and he sighed.

  “You’re good at this. I forgot.”

  “I thought you said you remembered everything about me?”

  “I thought that I did.”

  It was strange to realize that you could have an intense history with someone but still not know everything about them.

  Neither of us spoke for the next several minutes. I continued to work on Tyler’s shoulders and neck until someone pounded on the door. We both jumped like we had been caught doing something untoward.

  “Thanks,” Tyler said, clearing his throat. He called out, “Come in.”

  Lily was back, clipboard still in hand. “Show time, Cole.”

  The casual way that she called Tyler by his last name curled my lip into a sneer. Tyler patted my knee knowingly and stood.

  “Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand.

  I slipped mine inside and déjà vu took over once again. As we walked toward the stage, I remembered being in that exact hallway with Tyler almost fifteen years ago. I’d had to take his hand then, just to get him to take the stage.

  This time, we stopped at the wings and he gestured to a seat in the front row. “For you,” he explained. Then his kissed my cheek softly and whispered in my ear, “T
his is all for you.”

  He stepped away and I moved toward the seat with shaky legs. Once I was in place, he moved confidently to the center of the stage and picked up his guitar, throwing the strap over his head. A few adjustments and he reached for the microphone.

  “Hello, Nashville,” he said, sending the crowd into a hysterical frenzy.

  Thunderous applause and deafening screaming rained down. It seemed to go on forever and I watched as Tyler smiled shyly. I couldn’t believe that the same boy that hadn’t been able to raise his hand in class due to shyness could now perform on a stage in front of thousands of people. I felt an immense sense of pride as he began to play his first song and everyone in the audience began to sing along with him.

  For most of the songs, Tyler refrained from looking in my direction. But every now and then, he would sing a lyric that I knew had been written for me, or about me, and his eyes would find mine. A few of his fans on either side of me seemed to notice the special attention because they began to point and whisper.

  I tried to sink lower in my seat, uncomfortable with their curiosity. Finally, one of them leaned over.

  “Do you know him?” she asked, sounding irritated.

  I just nodded, hoping that if I didn’t make eye contact she would go away. Instead, two more girls moved closer.

  “Are you two dating?” One of them yelled.

  My eyes darted around, looking uselessly for a way out. On stage, Tyler noticed something was amiss and he waved a stagehand over. After a few words, the man descended the stage and came over to me.

  “Tyler asked me to get you,” he explained, speaking loudly over the music.

  I was happy to hurry along behind him, away from the threatening women, until I realized that he was taking me on stage. Numbly, I took the microphone that was shoved in front of my face.

  “I have a special guest with me tonight,” Tyler said between songs. “Not only is she my favorite songwriting partner, she’s also an old friend.”

  He paused for a beat, catching my eyes. With the flick of a hand he waved me over, then returned to strumming on his guitar. I recognized the harmony.