Page 34 of Rock Strong
I’d heard of Vici before. Somewhere.
Suddenly, Liam’s phone started ringing from the floor. He mumbled, stirred, then sat upright in bed. “Shit,” he said, and my heart sank. This beautiful dream was about to end. Perhaps I should’ve woken him last night and insisted we get back. He dove to the floor, and I averted my eyes so as to not look directly at his naked body. What was the big deal? I’d just seen him completely naked last night, hadn’t I? Still, it was one thing when you were in the middle of making love and quite another when a guy was bending over searching for his phone.
He found it and pressed it to his ear. “Yeah…” He listened, running a hand through his hair. I could hear someone’s exasperated lecturing on the other end of the line. “I know. I know, I know, trust me, I know. Okay, I’m on my way.” He hung up.
I’m on my way. Not we’re.
“Is everything okay?”
“Robbie’s pissed.”
“Because you’re not there?”
“Because I hadn’t checked in.”
“I can understand that. Can’t have a show if the front man isn’t there, can you?”
He shrugged, picking up his jeans and shirt. “I guess, but he had no reason to worry. I’m always there.”
“I should have woken you last night. I’m sorry,” I said, covering myself with the sheet. “I just didn’t…”
He faced me, dropped the clothes on the bed, and took my hands. “No, you didn’t have to do anything. I loved spending time with you. It was beautiful and perfect. You’re perfect. It’s just that we have to go now. They’re probably looking for you, too.”
He was right, though I didn’t want to leave the serenity of this isolated, empty house.
“Before we go, though…” He held up his phone.
I arched a brow. “You want another video?”
His eyes widened, and he burst out laughing. “Uh…definitely a topic to discuss another time. But right now, with you looking so sweet and gorgeous and rumpled, I’d like a selfie. You okay with that?”
Hesitantly, I nodded, but I clutched the sheet tighter to me. With a grin, he just leaned in to me, touched his face close to mine, and extended his arm with the orientation of the camera flipped so we could see ourselves on the screen. My breath caught at our image. Tousled. Intimate. Warm. Then he snapped the picture and showed it to me for my approval.
My heart tightened as I stared at it. We looked…right. We looked happy.
I blinked rapidly as tears filled my eyes, and to cover, I gave him a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek then quickly rose, tugging the sheet with me. “We better get going,” I said, hoping he didn’t notice how husky with emotion my voice sounded.
We gathered up our things, packed away the cello, which I’d left out all night with this humidity, and ran to the car. Giving the house one last look, in case I never came here again, I climbed into the Porsche, and Liam showed me what the car could do, swerving and flying all the way back to downtown Seattle. He held my hand and stole looks at me often. That was a good sign. He didn’t avoid me and was still being sweet. Not an act. I didn’t know why I had expected anything otherwise.
I just hoped we didn’t get stopped for speeding and end up being even more late. Watching the scenery go by, I was keenly aware of one thing—I was grinning from ear to ear. When we were one block from the hotel, about to turn the corner to part ways, he pulled to the curb, tucked his hand under my hair, and gave me a long, sweet kiss. “Can I see you tonight?” he asked. “Offstage, that is?”
“Are you sure, Liam?” I asked nervously. “Neither of us can make promises at this point. That’s what we said back at the house.”
“I know.” He nodded. “But like I said before, I want to make you promises. And I haven’t felt that way in a very, very long time.” He pressed his lips to each of my cheeks and then my forehead. “Let’s meet later and decide where to go from here.” He smiled big as well, and my stomach turned into a thousand knots.
“Okay,” I said, against my better judgment. He was returning to his normal life after a day with me. Anything could happen, that was true—but I couldn’t be afraid of the what ifs.
Or rather, I couldn’t let my fear of what ifs stop me.
No, if I wanted a chance at fulfilling the good what ifs—the ones that meant I’d see Liam’s house again and be in his arms again—I had to face head on the potentially bad ones with the potentially good.
Robbie hadn’t killed Liam too badly, just gave him a lengthy tongue lashing when we pulled into the hotel’s back driveway. Rosemary got over her worries quickly when I told her what happened and where I’d been, and when I divulged all in our hotel room, she squealed like a little girl. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe you fucked Liam Collier! You little tart!” She laughed.
I laughed, too, albeit weakly. I immediately wanted to correct her. Tell her we’d made love, not fucked. But of course I couldn’t say that. I was nuts to even think it.
“Abby, you just did what women the world over only dream of doing! So, please kiss and tell. Was it…any good?” She gave me a hopeful shoulder shrug.
“Well, not like I have a wealth of experience, but yes. He…did it for me,” I said, blushing and covering my face from pure embarrassment.