Rock Me (New Adult Romance)

by Olivia Marks

  The band was set up in front of a white screen looking the best I’d ever seen them. They were all in tight black pants and distressed work shirts with the fronts well unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up revealing their lean tattooed forearms. They looked incredibly tall, imposing, and utterly smoking hot.

  Liam in particular looked like he was going to bust out of his shirt it was so sculpted to his frame, a fact that had me feeling far more friendly than I wanted. His piercing eyes were now turned to the camera as if daring it to take a photo. I tried to convince myself that a little hero worship from afar was innocent enough. I was failing.

  The shoot wrapped up and Liam immediately walked towards me. I could see his band mates pointedly looking at both of us; the vibe was anything but friendly. But Liam’s smiling face and his warm hug immediately erased any feelings of unease. I relaxed into his strong arms, enjoying the feeling of just melting into someone. He held me for at least a minute, whispering in my ear, “I’m so glad that you came.”

  We pulled apart and I began to feel awkward again. How was I going to just be friends with this guy? Aimee was right. This was going to be tough.

  “You want to hang around a little bit?” Liam asked. I nodded and we headed over to the food cart to grab some amazing focaccia sandwiches with roasted veg and goat cheese as well as two steaming cups of coffee, black for him and cream with sugar for me.

  We sat on a black leather sofa together amidst the bustle of assistants cleaning up the space. I tried to eat but his delicious musky smell and the sight of that work shirt clinging to him was distracting me significantly.

  “Listen Shayla, I just want to apologize for the other day,” he said, putting down his plate. “That was not cool of me to just blow you off. You deserve better than that.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “My past is something that tends to get me down. Not a lot of people know about it so when you saw me reacting to it, I started to feel nervous. I really hate letting people in about that chapter of my life. Not even my band mates really know the story.”

  I took a careful sip of coffee. “Can you tell me? I know you’ve just met me but you can trust me. I’m happy just to listen, if it helps.”

  He sighed and placed a gentle hand on my arm. “That means the world to me that you’d say that. But I…I just don’t know if I’m ready.”

  Disappointment flooded me. He didn’t trust me, so what was I here for? I tried to focus on my sandwich amid my renewed feeling of defeat.

  “Alright,” I said quietly. “I’ll respect that.”

  “Thanks Shay,” he said. He tipped my chin up and looked at me with serious eyes. I noticed then that he had long dark lashes, a nice contrast to the severity of his features. “I hope one day to be able to tell you. In the meantime, can we keep spending time together?”

  I froze for a moment. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “I’m so confused as to what you want from me.”

  His hand moved up to cup my cheek. “I just want the chance to spend time with you and prove that I’m a good guy. Will you give me that chance?”

  I was a sucker for second chances and he must have known it. I hated to shut people out when they were hurting. I knew I had to be careful but I found myself nodding.

  He leaned back and looked more relaxed. “So, I saw you eyeing those racks of clothes. How would you like to see some that are more your style?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye. He gestured at a blonde assistant nearby in leather pants. “Hey, can we see the women’s stuff again?”

  She looked perplexed but scuttled off. “At first they wanted us to pose with some model,” he explained. “But I thought that was way too cheesy so we sent her packing. But lucky for you, the clothes are still here.”

  The blonde came trotting out on sky-high heels behind a rack of shiny, feathery, shimmery, expensive clothes. The rack stopped in front of me and I couldn’t help gasping in delight. Of course I loved clothes, but my budget was limited to mall offerings. I’d often looked through the pages of Vogue wishing I could wear something that daring.

  I leapt up and began to paw through the clothes. There were lilac tulle skirts, pink leather jackets, raw silk blue blouses, designer jeans, and lots of tissue thin T-shirts. I was happy just to touch these exquisite fabrics.

  “Wow Liam, these are so beautiful. I wish I had the courage to dress like this.”

  “You want to try them on?” he asked.

  I froze. The assistant next to me raised one arched dark eyebrow, which artfully contrasted with her bleached hair.

  “Um Liam,” I said, looking away. “These were for your shoot.”

  “So?”

  “So, they’re for a model, not a real person.”

  Liam looked confused. “Yeah but there must be other sizes, right?”

  The assistant looked at me scornfully. “We only stock size zeros. Maybe twos if the model is a little bigger.”

  Liam scratched his head. “What size are you?”

  Wrong question. “Not size zero!” I sputtered, wishing the earth would swallow me up. “Come on Liam, these clothes are clearly not meant for me. What are you trying to do?”

  Liam looked genuinely baffled. “I just thought you’d like to be part of the shoot.”

  I knew he was trying to be nice but his insistence on shutting me out combined with the hurt I felt over his tall blonde past had me overflowing with aggravation. “Well maybe next time maybe you should bring with you one of those socialites you seem to be fond of instead. That would make a hell of a lot more sense.”

  I didn’t want to run but I was fed up with feeling ashamed and lesser than. I needed to end this charade immediately.

  “I’m outta here,” I said, spinning around and making a beeline for the door. “Please Liam, don’t call me. It’ll just make it worse.”

  Chapter Four

  Weak light filtered in through the curtains and spilled onto the old wood floor. I tossed and turned in the foldout couch next to Aimee, unable to sleep and homesick. I missed my parents, going for walks in the woods with our golden retriever Lucky, and nights out at the movies with my girlfriends. Things just seemed a lot simpler back then—even if ‘back then’ was only a couple of weeks ago. So much had changed.

  I sighed. I knew it wasn’t really the move to New York that was bothering me but a certain rock god named Liam Carter. I was starting to wonder if life would be better if we’d never met. Then I could be enjoying a fun summer without the ups and downs of unrequited crushing. After all, hadn’t I promised myself (and Aimee) that I’d never repeat the whole Bobby thing again?

  I turned over again impatiently. Aimee stirred, moaning softly; she always slept like the dead. I looked at her enviously and started contemplating watching a movie on my laptop when the faint strumming of an acoustic guitar interrupted my thoughts.

  The song, which appeared to be coming from outside, sounded vaguely familiar. I turned over again. Crazy New York, I thought. Things never get boring here.

  I was reaching for my earphones when a voice joined the guitar. Just like the song, the voice sounded vaguely familiar. What the heck is going on? Curiosity piqued, I sat up. The music and voice became louder, as if the musician’s confidence was increasing.

  A suspicion began to dawn on me. My heart thumping, I crawled to the window and opened it.

  As I’d suspected, there below me was one Liam Carter, acoustic guitar strapped on, playing and singing away like it was totally normal to busk on the street in the dead of night.

  “Liam,” I hissed. “What are you doing here?”

  He looked up and nodded while still continuing with the song. I ran a hand quickly through my mussed hair, still in my cupcake PJs. Even so, I wasn’t a man singing on the street at 3 a.m. That had to count for something.

  It was then that I realized I did know the song—“Mad About You” by Sting. I wasn’t a huge Sting fan but I’d always loved this romantic song, which says that even if we’ve achieved greatness
nothing is complete without love. Sting lets his vulnerability show, revealing how completely lost he is to his feelings.

  Liam played an acoustic version that was beautiful in its simplicity. His voice wasn’t the strongest (after all, he was a guitarist not a singer!), but the emotion in his voice made the notes come alive.

  I leaned on the red stone windowsill. I was still mad at him but I couldn’t help feeling mesmerized by the raw feeling in his voice and his skillful playing. After all, here was a breakout star playing just for me at my window! I soaked it all in.

  He eventually finished the song, the last notes fading into the hushed New York night. Far away, sirens wailed. The streetlight played in his hair. The scene was so romantic that for a moment I couldn’t breathe.

  “Liam, what are you doing here?” I finally whispered.

  “Come down,” he pleaded. “I came to see you.”

  I hesitated. “You hurt me,” I said finally. “And I’ve realized that this isn’t going to work, whatever this is. We’re just from different worlds.”

  “I’d like the chance to prove that’s not true,” he retorted, a bit louder. “And I’d rather not do it from here, though I will if I have to.” A light went on in a neighbor’s house.

  Half afraid he’d wake the neighborhood and half driven by curiosity, I sighed. “OK, ten minutes Liam.”

  I threw my hair into a ponytail and pulled on my sneakers. If he’d come to see me he’d have to see the real me, cupcakes and all.

  I crawled downstairs groggily and opened the front door. There was Liam, dressed simply in blue jeans and a tight black shirt, looking way too awake for the hour.

  “Hey,” he said softly, kissing me on the cheek. “Nice pajamas.”

  I blushed and crossed my arms. “What’s up?”

  “How’d you like the song?” he asked, unfazed by my crankiness. His green eyes gleamed in the low light.

  “I loved it,” I confessed. “Sting isn’t my favorite, but that tune always gets me.”

  “Guy’s a pretty wicked songwriter. Knows how to say it—that success just isn’t anything without someone to share it with. I was thinking today after you left that I was trying to impress you with that photo shoot and interview stuff. But I realized that while you think it’s fun; you’re not hanging around with me for fancy clothes and burgers. I’d rather be real with you instead and treat you with the respect you deserve.”

  He paused and looked down at his guitar. “I’ve never done something this corny. But I thought if I made an ass out of myself you’d know I wasn’t trying to be fake with you. God knows, I can’t sing a lick.”

  I laughed suddenly. He looked at me, grinning hopefully. “You’re a better songwriter and guitar player,” I said. “But I liked your singing anyway because I could tell you meant what you said.”

  He looked serious again. “Yeah, I did. And I’m not faking, I am crazy about you. You may not believe it but I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t feel something.”

  Gosh, what could I say to that? I stood there floored, not believing my ears. “Yeah, it’s a lot to take in,” he said, smiling slightly. “Crazy guy outside your window in the middle of the night, spouting out all kinds of emotion.”

  “I’m glad you came,” I said quietly, studying his sneakers. “I feel really confused now, though.”

  “That’s OK, I’m confused too. You want to take that confusion for a walk?”

  “Now?” I looked up. He had a twinkle in those irresistible green eyes. I loved his sense of adventure.

  “Yeah, why not? I think New York deserves to see those fine PJs.”

  Which is how I found myself strolling through leafy side streets in the Upper West Side at 3 a.m. in my pajamas. Liam gently inserted his arm through mine, as if we were a Victorian couple on a very inappropriate date. His guitar was still strapped to him. Emotion flooded me and embarrassed I kept my eyes trained on the picturesque red stone row houses lining the street.

  “So Shay, what was really going through your head at the shoot today? I wanna hear it from you.”

  I blushed. I was never very good about talking about my feelings. “Uh yeah I guess I was just embarrassed that you wanted to include me in your life and I obviously don’t fit into it, physically or otherwise. I’ve seen the way your band mates look at me. Plus the people at the shoot treated me like nobody. Which I am, but still it’s not very nice to be reminded of that.”

  “Really?” Liam looked at me with surprise. “The guys can be a bit standoffish but I didn’t realize that they were being rude.”

  “Come on Liam, they’re probably more into the types of girls you usually date…” I stopped, putting a hand over my mouth to stop the verbal diarrhea.

  “What?” Liam looked at me closely, his green eyes alarmed.

  Well, I’d dug my grave I might as well lie in it. “Alright, I confess. I Googled you and I saw the photos of you with all those blonde models.” Liam groaned. “Don’t think you wouldn’t have done the same,” I protested.

  He passed a worried hand over his face. “Oh boy, I can’t even imagine what you saw.”

  This wasn’t exactly comforting. “Well here’s the summary: you, a lot of gorgeous blondes, times 20 or so.”

  He looked mildly horrified. “Let me explain…”

  “No Liam, it’s OK. That’s your life and as I said, I don’t fit in it. I really appreciate that you made the effort to come out here tonight and clear things up. But I think it’s better if we keep apart. After all, I suffered for a guy before and I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again.”

  Liam was quiet for a moment. “I would never want you to suffer for me,” he said gruffly. “That’s not what I’m about.”

  We walked side by side in silence for a few minutes, still arm in arm. New York was magical at night. The leafy trees swayed softly in the breeze. Taxi cabs passed by almost noiselessly, their headlights casting a wash glow. A dog barked in the distance.

  Liam finally cleared his throat and stopped in front of me. “I’ll respect your decision. But before we part, I want to take you to breakfast. I can’t leave you just yet. I hope that’s OK.”

  I looked into his face, so handsome and strong but vulnerable. I longed to reach up and stroke that delicious stubble, to kiss those lips. I breathed deeply. One last breakfast couldn’t hurt, right? I hadn’t eaten much the night before and I realized that I was starving. “Deal,” I said.

  Liam hailed a cab and we cruised along the silent streets. The sky was starting to get light. Liam gently played Coldplay’s “Fix You” on his guitar, singing along as the cab driver ignored us in the front seat. He’d probably seen it all.

  We accelerated onto the Brooklyn Bridge, cruising along as the magnificent horizon spread out before us, the sun’s first rays lighting the sky. My breath caught.

  “Liam, where are we going?” I laughed. Liam only smiled his secret smile while continuing to play.

  I cranked down the window and smiled as I watched the Hudson River below us. The buildings on the Brooklyn side reflected the first rays of light. I breathed in deeply. This was the New York I’d imagined in my dreams and finally I was living it, thanks to one very crazy and handsome man named Liam Carter. I’d always be thankful to him for this.

  We pulled up outside an unassuming restaurant in Park Slope. Inside it was cozy and unpretentious. Customers were already inside sipping on coffee and eating eggs with the newspaper. We sidled up to the bar on swivel seats. I ordered banana pancakes with bacon while Liam asked for a burger with waffle fries. The server plunked down two steaming cups of coffee in front of us. I immediately felt better. I was almost oblivious to the fact I was wearing PJs in a public space. Thankfully, no one even glanced at me.

  “I love this place,” Liam confessed, putting his guitar to rest beside him. “I like to come here to write songs sometime when I can’t sleep. It’s totally chill, away from the scene.”

  I smiled at him but remained silent. I felt sad th
at this was to be our last time together.

  “Hey Shay,” he said, leaning in. He must have sensed my unhappiness. He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and looked at me with those soulful green eyes. I could see flecks of gold in each of them. “I need you to know that the band hangs out a lot with a certain type of girl. I was lonely so I asked a couple of them to come along to events, even on dates. But it was totally empty. We had nothing in common; there was just no connection. It was nothing like what I feel about you.”

  “And how is that?” I asked softly. I had to know, even if the answer terrified me. I studied my pancakes intently, suddenly not hungry.

  Liam reached over and speared a bite of pancake with some banana. “Very strong. Like I want to date you, if you’d let me.” He popped the pancake in my mouth and I chewed, feeling both elated and like I wanted to sink into the earth. The rock god had feelings for me? Wanted to date me? All my previous arguments suddenly evaporated. I swallowed.

  “You like me?” I squeaked like a six grader.

  “Yeah,” he said, smiling his sweet half-smile. “Whaddya going to do about it?”

  Lost in the moment, I leaned forward and he met my lips with passion. His lips were so warm and soft. I leaned in further, feeling crazy energy wash through me. We kissed softly for some minutes, just enjoying the feeling of our lips together. He was a soft kisser but intense too—meeting my lips again and again, biting, kissing, sucking, making me gasp for breath. He tasted so sweet and his tongue was so soft I never wanted to stop.

  “Is this you giving me a chance?” he whispered between kisses.

  “I’m afraid so,” I whispered back.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said, pulling back and looking straight at me. He gently cupped one of my cheeks with his hand. “I promise it’ll be worth it.”