Thor comes over to make sure everything is okay. A few people surround Ella. “Go check on her,” I say.
“We’re ready to head out, Ms. Campbell,” he says loudly.
One of the girls at Ella’s side says, “Oh my God, you’re married to Liam?”
She’s caught off-guard. “Uh, no.”
“Liam’s married,” the girl says to her friends as if delivering news that her dog just died.
Someone comes up behind me. Ronni takes my elbow. “Liam is not married. It’s an unfortunate coincidence that they have the same last name. Rest assured, not only is he single, he’s available.”
Several girls scream. More come over and want pictures. Ronni moves aside, obliging them while eyeing Ella like she’s a piece of spoiled meat. What’s with her? She’s not actually jealous, is she?
“Reckless Alibi will be playing in Port Canaveral this weekend,” Ronni announces. “We hope you’ll drive down and join them.”
After the crowd clears, Ronni and Thor leave. Something occurs to me. “Fuck. There are now a dozen pictures of me out there wearing this stupid T-shirt.”
“I think it’s adorable,” Ella says. “Which reminds me, I need to change, too.”
She ducks into a porta-potty. When she comes out, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more beautiful. Her long hair is pinned up to keep it off her neck. The makeup she had on earlier has been sweated away. Best of all, she’s wearing a shirt with me on it. Well, not just me—it’s a picture of all of us—but yes, me.
My pants get tight. I adjust myself and try to think of something else. Anything else. “You want ice cream?”
“Sure. It’s hot enough.”
“Bria told me about a place called St. George Street. There are lots of shops and restaurants and ice cream places. I think that’s where they went. Want to meet up with them?”
“Lead the way.”
We make small talk on the way over. A group of young kids are doing sign language. It reminds me of something Ella did. “Give me your hand.”
She shoots me a disapproving stare.
“I don’t want to hold it, El. I need to show you something.”
As I move her fingers into place, bolts of pleasure shoot through me. I’ve come to crave the feel of her soft hands. The electrified pulse of her touch. But I push the feelings aside. “This is what I think you were going for. It’s the ‘rock on’ sign, or devil’s horn to be precise. You don’t use your thumb. The sign you flashed me means ‘I love you’.”
Her cheeks flame, and she covers her face with her hands. “I’m so bad at this.”
I laugh. “You’re better than you think.”
“How can that possibly be?”
“I wrote another song. That’s why you’re here. For inspiration.”
“Are you going to play it for me?”
“When it’s finished. I’m putting the final touches on it.”
We pass a large fort on the water. I’ve never been one to sightsee, but suddenly I have the urge. “Want to go inside?”
“This is the oldest city in America,” she says. “Might as well see some history while we’re here. But first you promised me ice cream.”
My phone vibrates with a text. It’s a group text from Ronni, telling us she’s returning to New York. I read it to Ella, smiling.
“You’re happy she’s leaving?”
“Of course I’m happy. She’s a damn thorn in our side.”
“I thought maybe you wanted her to stay.”
“What the hell gave you that idea?”
“Her showing up naked last night.”
“I don’t even like Ronni. She was a distraction, nothing more.”
“Was?” she asks.
I try not to read too much into her question, because even if she thinks she’s changed her mind about me, I can never allow anything to happen. I like being her friend. If I let it go beyond that, she’ll run so far, so fast, I’ll never see her again. “Yeah. Was. Now let’s get you some ice cream.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ella
I’ve made a lot of progress on my drawings over the past week. You might even say I’ve been inspired. I pencil in the hair, making it just the right shade, then scold myself when I look at a picture on my phone, making sure it matches his exactly.
I sent the preliminary sketches to the author this morning. She texted only one word: Perfect. I’m destined to draw pictures of him for the next year. Jimmy and Jojo will go on adventures to the zoo, the beach, an amusement park. Art may be imitating life, as those are some of the things Liam has promised we’ll do during our time here.
It’s Saturday. There’s four hours until they play tonight, and I’m getting excited all over again. I thought I’d get bored seeing them play the same songs over and over, night after night, but the opposite is true. With each performance, I get into it more. Ronni was right; I’m a groupie.
I’m not the only one. I’ve noticed familiar faces in the crowd at the last three performances. Girls who seem to be following Reckless Alibi down the east coast. The band is becoming more popular with each concert.
I glance at the empty couch in the hotel room. It’s a different couch, a different room, but a part of me wishes he were still sleeping on it. He stopped sharing my space after Ronni went back to New York. He’s bunking with Garrett again.
My phone rings. I glance at it and see the face I’ve been drawing the past two hours. “Hey.”
“Are you busy?”
I give Jimmy’s hair one last stroke of the pencil. “Not really.”
“I want to take you to see something.”
“What?”
“It’s a surprise. Can you meet me in the lobby in ten?”
“Do I need to wear anything in particular?”
“We’ll be outside, but we’re not going to the beach.”
I change into shorts and a halter top and then find him downstairs with his guitar case slung over one shoulder, a beach towel over the other, and a cooler in his hand. He walks me to the van. “Is Bruce driving us somewhere?”
He jingles the keys. “We’re borrowing it.” He drives in silence.
“Where are we going?”
“Someplace I heard about that I thought would be fun.”
Twenty minutes later, we arrive at our destination. I get out of the van. We’re at a park on the end of a point by the water. There are other people here, so I assume it’s a popular spot. Large rocks are piled up against the shoreline. “What’s special about this place?”
He checks his watch. “You’ll see in about fifteen minutes.”
I narrow my eyes. “Is there a blowhole that erupts when the tide comes in or something?”
“Not a blow hole.” He grabs the cooler. “Come on.” He finds a spot on the grass and spreads out a towel. Then he opens the cooler and offers me a bottle of beer.
“Anything else in there? Maybe a soda?”
He puts the bottle between his thighs, hands me a Diet Coke, then opens his beer and swallows half of it.
“How come you drink so much?”
He regards the half-empty bottle like he didn’t know he gulped that much down. “Habit, I guess. Why do you ask?”
I gaze at the water. “Corey drank a lot. People sometimes make bad choices when they drink.”
He looks sad for me. “I don’t,” he says. But we both know he’s lying.
“What about Ronni? Are you saying your ‘once or twice’ wasn’t a product of a drunken mishap?”
“Okay, you got me there.”
“What’s up with her? I mean, why her when there are plenty of other women out there willing and able?” I think about the girls at the festival today who were throwing themselves at him.
“Didn’t we already go over this?”
“You said she doesn’t ask questions.”
“But apparently you do.”
The way he says it makes me feel guilty. “Sorry. I know you didn’t bring
me here for the third degree.”
He takes his guitar from the case. “I promised you a song.”
My eyes light up. I lie back on the towel and let him play. As I listen, I realize how little I know about him. The truth is I want to know so much more. What was his childhood like? Who hurt him? Why does he hate questions?
I follow his left hand as it glides between the frets. I stare at his fingers as he expertly strums the strings. I look at his eyes and see the way he’s looking at me. The song is incredible. I inspired him to write this?
He stops abruptly, and I instantly miss the music. He puts the guitar down and stands, offering me his hand. “Come on.”
He helps me up and I finally understand why he brought me here. A humongous cruise ship is coming down the channel. My jaw drops. I’ve seen them in pictures, on TV, but never in person. We stroll to the edge, along with many others.
The ship gets closer. Cruisers are on the top deck, lining the railings. Some are on lower floors, on private balconies. They wave. I’m startled when someone blows an air horn next to me, then I see why. The ship blows its horn, and everyone on the shore erupts into cheers.
Liam and I get caught up in the excitement and wave emphatically to those on the ship. “Look there,” he says, pointing to the front. “I think it’s the bridge.”
Men in white uniforms are surrounded by glass walls in a section overhanging the side of the ship. One of them waves at the crowd. “Do you think he’s the captain?”
“Probably not, but we can pretend.”
The ship passes us and goes out to sea. I turn to Liam. “That was incredible!”
He points down the channel, and I see two more ships coming our way. I smile. There are more cheers, waves, and air horns as the second ship comes by. The more boisterous the crowd, the louder and crazier the passengers on the ship become. When the third one passes, a guy on a balcony strips off his shirt and waves it over his head. Girls onshore whistle and clap.
“She’s flashing her tits!” a man yells.
A woman on the ship is jiggling her breasts for the onlookers. I playfully cover Liam’s eyes so he can’t enjoy the show.
He removes my hands and tilts his head back to better study my face. “Is there some reason you don’t want me looking at a woman’s boobs?”
My insides twist. Is there?
Something between us changes. He doesn’t release my hands, and I don’t want him to. I stare at his lips, wanting him to kiss me. In the back of my mind, a little voice is saying, “Corey who?”
He leans in. I close my eyes.
But I don’t feel his lips. He drops my hands and returns to the beach towel. He puts his guitar away, then he rakes his fingers through his hair.
I feel all kinds of awkward. “How did you get interested in playing guitar?”
He doesn’t look at me. “You sure do ask a lot of questions.” When I don’t say anything, he gathers up our stuff and starts for the van.
I don’t follow. I’m frozen to the ground, wondering what happened. How did things go from perfect to disastrous in a second?
He turns and blows out a long breath. “Ella, I promise you don’t want to hear my answers.”
Chapter Seventeen
Liam
Thirteen years ago
“Colleen, don’t coddle him,” Dad says. “He needs to suck it up and take it like a man. It doesn’t hurt that bad, does it, son?” He turns to Mom. “I have half a mind to sue the ball field for having a damn hole in the outfield.”
Luke hobbles on crutches to the car.
“It sucks you’ll miss the rest of baseball season,” I say, feeling guilty because I’ll still be able to play. “Will you still come to my games?”
“Sure.”
I hold my hand out, wanting him to give me our secret handshake. He rarely does it anymore. I guess going to high school makes such things not cool. He glances at Dad, who’s gone on ahead, and quickly does the handshake. I smile.
When we get home, Dad gets something out of the trunk. He follows us inside and waits for Luke to sit down, then hands him a huge box.
Luke looks at it. “What’s this?” His leg must really hurt, because he doesn’t seem happy to be getting a surprise.
“Go on, open it,” Dad says. “When you were getting your cast on, I made a quick trip to the music store. I thought you should have something to do while you can’t play ball.”
I think I’m more excited to see what’s in the box than Luke is. We’re lucky. Dad is always giving us stuff, unlike most of my friends, who only get things on birthdays and Christmas.
Mom helps Luke open the gift. They pull out a large black case. I’ve seen something like this before. He opens it. “You got me a guitar?”
“I had to think of something you could do sitting down. They had keyboards, too, but I think they’re more for girls. Guitars are for manly men like us.”
Luke cringes when he says that. Maybe his leg is throbbing. “Thanks,” he says, setting it aside.
Mom wraps her arms around Dad. “I’m sure he’ll play it later, when he feels up to it. What a thoughtful gift, Donny.”
“Only the best for my family.”
Luke gets up and grabs his crutches. “I’m going to lie down. Today kind of took it out of me.”
I follow him to his bedroom, which is across the hall from mine. “Luke?”
“What?” he snaps.
I back off. He usually doesn’t talk to me that way.
Luke relents. “Sorry. My leg hurts, is all. What were you going to ask me?”
“I know Dad gave the guitar to you, but do you think I could try it? It’s okay if you want me to wait until you’ve had a chance.”
“You can play it. Maybe I’ll give it a try later.” He turns. “Or maybe not,” he mumbles and closes the door.
I run to the living room, eager to get my hands on it.
While I’m strumming, Mom makes all of Luke’s favorites for dinner, then heads off to work. She was lucky to get half a shift off to meet us at the Emergency Room. “Put the leftovers in the fridge. I’ll eat when I get home. Love you guys.”
The three of us eat together, like we always do when Mom’s at work—in front of the television. She never allows it when she’s home, but Dad lets us get away with a lot when she’s not around. As long as we don’t tell her, that is.
Luke conks out early after taking the pain medication the doctor gave him. When I go to my bedroom, there’s a new magazine on my bed. I close the door, even though I know Mom’s not here to see it. I have a stack of half a dozen magazines Dad has given me in the past month hidden behind my dresser.
Something’s different about this one. There are no women on the cover. Only men. I open it and flip through the pages, surprised to see men touching each other. They’re more than touching each other; they’re doing a lot of things. It kind of feels wrong to look at them, but I can’t stop. And just like when I look at the other magazines, I get all funny and tingly inside.
I close it, stash it behind the dresser, and pull out one of the others.
~ ~ ~
My bed creaks. I open my eyes to darkness. Maybe Mom’s coming in to give me a kiss before she goes to bed. She does that sometimes. When large arms go around me, I know it’s not her. I’m still half asleep, so I don’t say anything.
“Shh,” he whispers in my ear.
He gets under the covers with me. I’m confused. Dad used to tuck me in, but I haven’t needed that for a while. He moves around a little behind me. He rubs my back for a minute. Then he reaches around and touches me. He touches me there, and I stiffen.
“Shh,” he murmurs again. “It’s okay. It’s better this way, you’ll see.”
I want to pull away, but I’m scared, so I pretend to be asleep. That’s stupid because he knows I’m awake, but I don’t know what else to do. All I can hear is my heart pounding in my head. I can’t speak. I can’t move.
His hand goes under my shorts
and moves on me, and I start to have those same feelings I have when I look at the magazines. But this is different. My insides tighten into something so powerful, I feel like I’m going to explode. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, I do. All over my shorts. Immediately after, I feel something hot and wet on my back as Dad groans behind me.
I’m frozen. My insides feel all twisted, and a sick feeling washes over me. What happened felt good, but I’m frightened and disgusted too.
Dad wipes my back. “You’re a man now,” he whispers. “I told you it would be better this way. You liked it, or you wouldn’t have ejaculated. I knew you would.” He sits up, but I don’t move. “You’re lucky to have a father like me who is willing to show you everything. And Luke is lucky to have someone like me paying his medical bills. Your mom tells me all the time she doesn’t know what she would do without me.” He gets out of my bed. “Remember, Liam. Men don’t talk about the things we do behind closed doors. We’re good at keeping secrets. Secrets keep our family safe. They keep us intact. They keep us strong. Don’t ever forget that.”
He shuts the door behind him when he leaves. I change my shorts and get back in bed. I gaze at the ceiling.
Becoming a man isn’t anything like I thought it would be.
Chapter Eighteen
Ella
I lie on a beach towel next to Bria and Katie while the men throw a Frisbee.
“We’re glad you could make it, even if it’s only for a few days,” Bria says to Brad’s fiancée.
I roll onto my stomach and face Katie. “Tell me how it happened. How did he propose? Wait, let me guess. Did he take you to the top of the Empire State Building? Or maybe on a romantic picnic in Central Park. Did he do it onstage after a concert?”
She laughs. “None of the above. It was back in December. His family invited mine over so they could meet. We’d just finished playing a riveting game of Trivial Pursuit. Right there at the table, out of nowhere, he asked.”
Reckless Invitation (The Reckless Rockstar Series) Page 10
