Say It Strong (Say You Love Me Book 2)

by Virna DePaul

  Do it, Liam, I heard Garrick say in my mind.

  “Seriously, you’re smart. You pay attention to details… You’re pretty amazing,” I said. Abby didn’t pull her fingers away, and I flipped her hand over gently to touch each fingertip. “The mark of a cellist, huh?”

  Abby was breathless. Her words came out on a string of airiness. “After a while, you develop thick skin, I guess.”

  I pulled her hand a little closer to me, but that was it. I couldn’t scare her away. With Abby, I would need to take my time. She was not a groupie. She’d already let me know that in no uncertain terms. Besides, you couldn’t rush perfection. “Trust me, I know all about that.”

  “You do?”

  “Oh, yeah. Not everyone loves me. I have my critics.”

  “What do they say?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Some think I’m talentless. Some think I’m a Bono copycat…no originality…looks like Bon Jovi’s ugly cousin… You name it.”

  She giggled then covered her mouth. “Sorry. When I first saw you, I thought you looked like a punk cowboy.”

  “Punk cowboy, huh? I kind of like that.” I brushed her hair away from her eyes. She didn’t fight me, but she didn’t exactly jump on me either. Which was refreshing. And classy. And the reason I was keenly aware that I needed to get to know her better.

  “I don’t think you’re talentless,” she said. “I heard you a cappella just now. You have a beautiful voice.”

  Wow, coming from her, I was truly honored. Seriously. “Really? I gotta tell you I thought for sure you’d think I was a fake, too.”

  “You care what I think?”

  “Of course! I care a lot. Girl, you were a cello pirate in there last night, pillaging and plundering and taking no prisoners. You put everyone to shame! I would take your opinion over anybody else’s any day.”

  A soft smile filtered onto Abby’s face, like nobody had ever talked like that to her before. But it was the truth, and I was simply letting her know it.

  “In fact,” I added, “I was trying out a new lead-in to the song right before I heard you here.”

  “I heard it,” she said, refocusing on pressing back her cuticles. “I like it for the live show. Gives it a little uniqueness for the concert experience while keeping the integrity of the recording for fans who like getting what they expect.”

  I stared at her so hard, my eyeballs almost fell out. I wanted to hug her tight. “See? You get it. You just get it, Abby Chan.” A yellow and black butterfly flew between us just then.

  She grinned. And leaned forward. And kissed me.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Abby

  I’d heard it said before that life was not made up of minutes, hours, days, or weeks—it was made up of moments. If that was true, this was one of them. And clearly, I was temporarily insane. But Liam’s light honey eyes looked so pained, so perfect, I had to do it. There he was, worried about his credibility, talking music and plundering and things that mattered, when suddenly, I felt overwhelmed by the urge to tell him that I understood him—I got it.

  I, too, had always felt like I wasn’t doing enough.

  Do better in school, Abby.

  Get better scores on your chair exams, Abby.

  Make Samuel appreciate you more, Abby.

  My own words—not anyone else’s. Sure, my mom wanted the best for me, sometimes pushed me, but most of it was purely self-driven.

  I, too, doubted my own talents.

  Why I couldn’t have told him all that without locking lips, I didn’t know. Maybe Rosemary was right, and my pheromones were telling me things my brain wasn’t willing to listen to, and it’d led to this—a single, sweet kiss. I closed my eyes, and without thinking, pressed my lips against his soft mouth. For the first time since our conversation began, I breathed. I breathed in the scent of his skin, I breathed in his aura, I breathed in the mist-spattered garden air.

  I breathed in life.

  I pulled away, my eyes opened, and his shock was clear. I’d just kissed Liam Collier—rock star. After that whole rant about not being one of his groupies and how he wouldn’t be conquering me.

  “Wow,” he mumbled.

  “I…I am so sorry. No clue, at all, what came over me.” Great, and if he had an ego about himself, I just made it ten times bigger by showing how weak I was around him.

  “Whatever it is, I like it.” He reached for my hand, a light smile at his lips.

  “No.” I pushed him away slightly. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was impulsive, imprudent. I should be getting back.” I stood from the bench and backed away.

  “Abby, don’t leave.” He grasped on to my arm.

  “I have to. Richard…he gave us a break, but that was ages ago. I’m already late making it back.”

  “That was awesome,” he said. “Really, it was. I don’t think there was anything imprudent about it, but if that’s how you feel…then okay.”

  “I had no right to surprise you like that.”

  “Why not?” He chuckled lightly. “I loved it.”

  So had I. For a second, my insecurity vanished and joy skipped through me. But only for a second.

  Why…why had I done that? Was I so desperate for emotional and physical connection, I didn’t even realize how much I needed it? Had Samuel left me so devoid of both that now I needed to correct things? I stood there, watching his longing face, his sad-dog eyes. Rosemary was right—he was ruggedly beautiful. Not a pretty boy, not a fashion model, just naturally wow. My chest pounded in agreement.

  My brain tried to make sense of what happened.

  I couldn’t start anything with him. I was only here to spend the summer with Rosemary while making some money. But then, as though a little cartoon devil had suddenly perched itself on my shoulder, I thought about what other girls would say, girls I admired for being so assertive and strong. What? It’s not like I want to marry the dude. I just want to kiss him. But I never was any good at keeping things simple.

  “I can’t get involved with you, Liam,” I said.

  “It was just a kiss, Abby.” He tugged gently on my arm, coaxing me to sit down. “Come on. Let’s just keep talking.”

  “I can’t. Really, I need to be getting back.”

  “Abby…” he said, in a way that no one had ever said my name before. He drawled out the A, breathing life into it. “Don’t be scared.”

  There was that word again. I wasn’t scared. I was terrified.

  But then I thought about how this moment would be over soon, and I’d have to go back and tell Rosemary one of two stories. One, how I kissed Liam Collier, and he wanted more, but I left him high and dry by chickening out. Or…how I kissed Liam Collier, and he wanted more, so I leaned in and gave it to him…like a boss.

  Girls high on confidence intimidated the dickens out of me, but here was my chance to be one of them. I couldn’t pass up this opportunity. Tentatively, I stepped toward him and slowly sank my butt onto the stone bench again. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

  You can do this. It doesn’t have to be serious.

  Liam scooped up my hand. His other slipped into my hair behind my head. “It’s okay.” He leaned in just a little, chin tilted, eyes studying me. He wasn’t asking for another kiss, but he was making it clear he was ready for one if I wanted more.

  Which I did. Never before had one kiss driven me so close to unraveling. I felt it in every pore of my body, the tingling of being alive, turned on. Every inch of my skin ached for it. No! Terrible idea! my brain screamed.

  Just do it, Abby, my body sighed.

  At war with myself again. But my brain had ruled me for way too long. It was time to listen to my body for once. So I did. I leaned in, and we kissed…again.

  This time, it wasn’t so innocent. His tongue met mine as our lips explored in a tangled, delicious kiss. The more we kissed, the more my body gravitated toward him, the more I wanted to wrap myself around him until we were one. Was this what it meant to really want
someone? I’d never felt this way with Samuel before, a scary thought I might explore later. I wasn’t sure.

  Then again, Samuel never kissed like this.

  With Liam, I thought I would feel like one of a thousand women he’d been with before, but I didn’t. I felt beautifully alone in this honor and privilege. He made me feel as though I were the only woman ever in his life, which of course, was just silly. His hands cupped my head, and my body pushed into his until I was almost in his lap. We sat there, wrapped up in each other’s arms, for a long time in the summery garden surrounded by fountains, flowers, and butterflies.

  Surreal.

  Finally, he pulled away and pressed his forehead against mine. “That,” he said, “was amazing.” His strong hands gripped my head and kept it from lolling on my shoulder like I’d lost consciousness.

  Wow.

  I kept my eyes closed and hung on to his smooth hands—a man’s hands—that cupped my cheeks, struggling for something to say, but there were no words. He was right. That was amazing. I was almost afraid to look into his eyes for fear that I wouldn’t see my same utter astonishment reflecting back at me, but when I opened them, there were grin lines around his eyes and on either side of his nose. A dimple in his cheek stood out from how hard he was smiling. His honey eyes melted into mine.

  Liam Collier, smiling big after kissing me. “Or wasn’t it?” he asked, his grin dampening a bit.

  “Yes!” I cried, then a bit lower, “Yes.” I squeezed his hand, running my fingertips along his arms, over the thick veins and tribal tattoos roping over them. I had kissed a man with tattoos. Good Lord, Abby…

  “Do you want to kiss me again?” he asked.

  It was difficult to suppress the giggle in my throat. Didn’t most guys ask if they could kiss you, not if you wanted to kiss them? He put the ball in my court, making sure the decision was mine.

  I couldn’t speak, only nodded, leaning in and stealing the kiss from him this time, putting my signature on it, impressing on him, in no uncertain terms, that I wanted him. I was so doomed it wasn’t even funny. I was fairly certain there was no way on earth I would be making it through this entire summer without more of him.

  A new voice suddenly startled me out of my skin. “There you are.”

  I looked up to see a girl, the same girl I’d seen a few times before, with straight brown hair, straight eyebrows, and a look on her face like she was Liam’s babysitter and he’d crawled out of his crib again.

  Liam ripped out of the kiss and whipped his head around. “Hey, babe. Um, I’m busy?”

  “Babe?” I craned my neck.

  He glanced at me. “Helen. We’re old friends.”

  “Oh.” Automatically, I stood, and he followed my lead.

  Babe/Helen perched her hands on her hips. “Sorry, but Robbie’s looking for you everywhere. He says you had a pre-show meeting with a fan club at two, and they’re waiting. Have been waiting.”

  Liam’s shoulders dropped. He held out his arms in open surrender. “Makes the meeting all that more rewarding, doesn’t it?” He looked at me and winked. “Right, Ab?”

  I said nothing, but I wasn’t oblivious to the stare I was getting from Babe/Helen. Old friends, as in they’d hooked up before? She seemed like a jealous ex-girlfriend to me. A preview, I thought, of things I could look forward to if he and I were to ever be together.

  “So, are you coming?” Helen prompted.

  “I’ll be right there,” Liam said, wisps of annoyance in his voice. “Go. Just give me a minute.” He literally shooed her.

  Helen’s eyes flitted from him to me then to him again. Then she turned and strolled out of the garden, pausing just outside of it to light a cigarette, glancing back every so often.

  Liam turned to me again. “Sorry about that.”

  “Who is she?”

  “My best friend. Known her since middle school.”

  “Were you a couple once?”

  He shook his head sheepishly. “Looks like it, doesn’t it? No, we weren’t.”

  “Well, for someone who was never with you, she watches over you closely. I would’ve guessed ex-girlfriend or older sister. Either that, or she wants you very bad.”

  The thought of that seemed to resonate with him. “Maybe. But she’s my homie, my homeslice, my ninja, my buddy.” He laughed. “But yeah, she can be my chaperoning grandma, too, I guess.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting otherwise, but…” I feared I might be showing the twinge of jealousy rearing its ugly head when I had no right to him. “She definitely wants you.”

  A sly smile seeped onto his lips. “You sure about that?”

  “A girl knows.” I turned my face from him, so he couldn’t see the warmth of the blush creeping into my cheeks.

  “A girl knows what?”

  A deeper thought sat just below the surface of that one, and I debated whether or not to say it out loud. However, considering I’d kissed him again, and that had resulted in the most astounding kiss ever, I urged myself to take another chance. Say what you mean, Abby. Say it out loud… Say it strong. “It takes a girl who wants a guy to recognize another one hovering. Literally. Outside the garden gates.”

  “Are you saying you want me?” He inched closer and held me by the hips. As much trouble as I was already in—both with my string section and in my love life at the present time—I leaned into him. I didn’t know why. Maybe because he seemed to genuinely like me and didn’t just want to “get in my pants,” as I’d so horribly accused him. Maybe because we’d bonded over the song onstage.

  Or maybe just because I felt like it…

  My arms reached up and laced around his neck. He lowered his head considerably, so I could reach the whole way. I was almost an entire foot shorter than he was.

  “Are you saying you want me?” he repeated, this time less like a question, more of a confirmation.

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe you’re saying that, or maybe you want me?” His mouth hovered just over mine, lingering with proximity and warmth and making me crazy.

  “Maybe I want you,” I said, completely breathless, as though the air had been sucked from my lungs. It was true. Whether or not it was the smart thing to do, the fact was I wanted him. The desire to keep kissing him for the next year, not to mention the warmth and wetness between my legs, confirmed it. “Definitely I want you,” I amended.

  A half second later, his lips crushed down on mine. He breathed me in, tasting my mouth and tongue, sending crazy feelings into the pit of my stomach, even crazier ones between my thighs.

  I reeled and gripped his shoulders to keep from falling.

  He held me tightly. There was no way I was going anywhere.

  “I want you, too,” he said, dotting my nose with one last kiss before pulling away. “But right now, you have rehearsal, and I have a meeting. I’ll look for you later? If I don’t see you before the show, I’ll see you onstage.” He laughed, then did something fabulous, scary, and delicious at the same time. He enveloped my upper body in a big bear hug and squeezed me tight. “Thank you, Abby.”

  “For what?” My face pressed against his chest. I had no choice but to breathe in his scent again through his shirt, that awesome mix of damp skin and spice and sweetness I would never be able to describe well, not even with the most comprehensive dictionary. All I knew was that I had to smell him again.

  Soon.

  “For talking to me,” he said.

  “Anytime,” I said. “I’ll see you later.” Me, Abby Chan, just agreed to see Liam Collier later, to head into dangerous, treacherous territory, despite knowing better. What was wrong with me?

  Quickly, he tromped off, breaking into a little jog. At the garden gates, I heard him talking to Babe/Helen. “Robbie’s not my fucking dad, and you’re not my fucking mom, bro.” He plucked the cigarette from between her lips, and for a disappointing second, I thought he was going to take a drag from it himself, but he threw it on the ground and stepped on it. “And stop with the
se. They’ll fucking kill you.”

  Helen punched his bicep hard. “Who’s acting like the fucking dad now?”

  “Shut up,” he said.

  I thought that was it—he’d be gone without another look my way.

  But just as he was heading off with Helen leading the way, he turned and walked backward, connecting that amazing smile with my hopeful, grateful eyes once again. He kissed two fingertips and raised them in the air toward me. A moment was all it took to understand what women the world over saw in him—the hot, chiseled body, the handsome face, the sorcerer of kissery…

  Embarrassingly, though, I was one of them now. But I refused to see him for just those things. In fact, Liam Collier was already proving himself to be more than a hot bod, more than a rock ’n’ roll playboy. He was a sweet, kind man, who made me feel respected every time I saw him. If I could summon up the nerve, I might allow myself to see past the punk cowboy into his real soul. I would explore him. Understand him. Hell, I might even master him.

  I waved a little good-bye at him.

  If I let myself, that is.

  Which I intended to.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Liam

  We rocked our first Seattle show right off its hinges!

  I loved this city, and not just because our up-and-coming rock colleagues got their start here. It was always good to musicians of any genre. No, I loved Seattle because my grandparents lived here before they died. My brothers and I had visited often when we were kids.

  Plus, our shows went on, rain or shine, and since it rained here like nobody’s business, it was not uncommon to do our whole show in the middle of a drizzle, which always made for an awesome vibe. Our fans were like, Hey, fuck it, we’re already standing out here in the rain, we may as well party!

  And they did.

  And we loved it!

  Made for some great photography, too, like me tonight suspended in midair, shaking water droplets off like a dog, or Corbin soaked from head to toe in his leather pants. Tucker didn’t like playing in the rain, but fuck him, because the pics of him smashing the drums, sending spattery drops flying everywhere, backlit by some hot-white lights, were KICKASS!