Reckless Invitation (The Reckless Rockstar Series) Page 17

  I get up and pull on my sweatpants. “We have to pack. We leave in an hour.”

  “Sit down please.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you asked me a question, and I haven’t answered yet.”

  I sit.

  “You want to know why I like you? Maybe it is because you’re different. You’re about as far removed as possible from any man I’ve ever dated. Pretty much the opposite of Corey. You’re talented, intriguing, mysterious, but also gentle and kind. When you’re performing, whether it’s for me or hundreds of people, you’re passionate. Maybe I like you because you saved me that day on the sidewalk. Maybe it’s because I’m flattered to have been your inspiration. But you seem to forget, Liam, that you’ve become mine. You’ve seen my illustrations for the books. The album cover.” She moves over next to me. “Do I want to help you overcome your past? Of course I do. I want you to be happy. But damn it, Liam, you have to stop believing I think you’re disgusting. You need to separate what happened to you from who you are. You aren’t disgusting. You need to stop saying a girl like me shouldn’t want a man like you, because guess what? A girl like me does want a man like you.”

  I give her a lopsided grin. “You could have just said because I’m hot.”

  She falls back and laughs.

  I spin around and trap her under me. I lean down and let my lips linger over hers. “I’m not promising anything.”

  “I’m not asking for any promises.”

  I kiss her. And as she kisses me back, I swear she’s breathing life into me.

  ~ ~ ~

  We get settled on the plane. Jeremy was nice enough to switch seats with Ella, who was several rows back.

  Garrett squints at first class. “This is the last time we won’t be sitting up there.”

  We look at each other and smile. Jeremy wasn’t kidding about the uptick in sales. Our royalty checks from March were deposited yesterday. They were mind-boggling. April’s is going to be even better.

  I’m flanked by Ella, who has the window seat, and Garrett. Brad is sitting behind us with Crew and Bria.

  Ella leans over. “Is everything okay with Brad? He doesn’t seem as excited as the rest of you.”

  “He hasn’t been happy.”

  “He misses Katie.”

  “It’s his own fault. He chose someone who hates rock and roll.”

  “The heart wants what it wants,” she says.

  “Are we still talking about Brad and Katie?”

  She smiles.

  “I can’t believe it’s over,” Garrett says. “I hope we can get back on the road soon.”

  “Not likely,” I say. “They want us in the studio. Jeremy said IRL is expecting two more albums by the end of the year, not to mention more videos.”

  “Two?” he says. “You think we can do it?”

  Crew and Bria have probably written lyrics to half a dozen songs since they got engaged, and I hear music every goddamn time I look at Ella. “I think we can.”

  “I’ve got some lyrics that might work with something,” Garrett says.

  I tear my eyes away from Ella. “Wait—you?”

  “You think those two are the only ones who can write them?”

  “No, but you’ve never said anything before. Why now?”

  “Wrote them a long time ago. Didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. Then when things started to happen, and you got in your slump. I didn’t want to pressure you to put them to music.” His eyes dart to Ella and back to me. “Now that you’re clearly in a different place, I figured it might be a good time.”

  “Hell yes. Send them to me when we get home.”

  “We’ll be living together,” he says. “I can just hand them to you.”

  I laugh. “I almost forgot. Everything is changing.”

  The flight attendant stops by with six glasses of champagne. “From the gentleman in 16C.”

  We stand and toast Jeremy. After we sit back down, Ella holds up her glass and leans close. “To Luke. Happy twenty-seven.”

  My throat tightens but I drink. Nobody has ever toasted his birthday with me. Crew and I get shitfaced every year in August on the day he killed himself, but I’ve always suffered in silence on his birthday.

  “You’re right,” she says. “Everything is changing. Things will be different back home.”

  She looks sad. I have the urge to hold her hand, but I don’t. “Things will be different, but I won’t be. Then again, maybe I will. Maybe I’ll be better in some way.”

  “We won’t see each other very much,” she says. “It’ll be an adjustment.”

  “What are you talking about? We’ll run. And we can hang out.”

  Her attention shifts to the window. “It sounds like you’ll be busy.”

  “Ella.” I wait until she makes eye contact. “I will be busy, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do things. What about the 10K?”

  “I guess there’s that.”

  I want to tell her there can be more, but I’m not sure there can be. I’ve never been one to give false hope.

  “Thank you,” she says, finishing off the champagne.

  “For what?”

  “For the invitation. For … everything.” She briefly touches my hand. “I’ll never forget these six weeks as long as I live.”

  The way she says it, it’s like we’re saying goodbye. And something inside me hurts in a way it never has before.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Ella

  I barely have my things unpacked when there’s a knock on the door. Part of me hopes it’s him. That he somehow couldn’t bear going home without me. On the way to the door, I see a picture of Corey and me on the bookshelf. It was my favorite. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out, not even after what he did to me.

  I flip it facedown.

  When I open the door, Krista and Jenn fly inside. “Tell us everything!”

  “It’s not like I didn’t give you weekly updates from the road,” I say.

  “But we haven’t heard anything about the last seven days. We need details.”

  Details.

  The three of us are as close as sisters. But I still haven’t shared any information about Liam’s past. Not that I’d know what to say. I don’t know for sure what happened to him. Only what I’ve surmised and pieced together from the few things he’s told me.

  I tell them about Crew’s romantic proposal. They’d already seen it; apparently it’s all over social media.

  “We want the 411 on Liam,” Krista says. “We know you kissed him. There has to be more.”

  I almost regret telling them about that. It was the day I booked my early flight back to New York. I called them because I was so confused. They’re the ones who talked me into staying. They thought he was being the way he was because he was either a narcissistic musician or he’d been hurt by another woman. I didn’t enlighten them.

  “We’re good friends, that’s all.”

  Jenn says, “Oh, come on. You spent six weeks with the guy. You’re his muse. He stayed in your hotel room, El.”

  “In separate beds.”

  “I’m not buying it,” Krista says. “He’s hot. You’re hot. No way did you keep your hands off each other.”

  “I’m telling you we’re not a couple.”

  “Not being a couple doesn’t mean you didn’t have sex.”

  I look her in the eye. “We didn’t have sex.”

  “You’re saying you never touched the man’s cock?”

  I make the sign of the cross. “I never touched it, Krista.”

  Technically, it’s true. What I don’t say is how much I wanted to feel him with my own hands. Taste him with my mouth. Have him inside me. But I can’t talk to them about this. It would be a violation of Liam’s trust. I get the feeling the only other person who knows about his past is Crew.

  They go through every picture on my phone, no doubt looking for evidence proving we’re a couple. Jenn stops on the one Bria took of us at the beach. “G
irl, if you think this man isn’t into you, you haven’t seen this picture.”

  I take the phone from her and look at the photo.

  “Oh my God,” Krista says. “You’re in love with him.”

  “I am not.”

  “Ella, you’re a big fat liar. We know you too well. You’re clearly in love with Liam Campbell.”

  I close my eyes and sigh. “Okay, so I’m in love with him.”

  They scream and dance around.

  “Stop it. That doesn’t mean he’s in love with me. Or even that we’re a couple. He has … issues.”

  Jenn sits down. “Fear of commitment?”

  I shrug, because I suppose it would be the best excuse.

  “He’s a rock star,” Krista says. “He probably wants to eat his cake and have it too.”

  “Don’t you let him,” Jenn says. “I don’t care if he’s a rock star or the fucking president, you can’t let him do what the dickhead did to you.”

  I give her a sharp look. “I didn’t let Corey do anything. There’s nothing I could have done differently. He cheated on me despite us having a great relationship.”

  Krista laughs. “Great relationship? Right. Like him dragging you to cooking classes and boring lectures was a great relationship.”

  “I meant we were happy together, or at least I thought we were.”

  Jenn smacks her lips. “He came to see me, you know. A few weeks ago he came to my work. Accused me of knowing where you were, and he wanted to go after you. Said he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.”

  I look over at the bookshelf where I turned down the picture. “You can say that again.”

  “Are you still in love with him?” Krista asks.

  Jenn scoffs. “She just said she loves Liam.”

  “Doesn’t mean she can’t love them both.”

  “I don’t think I love Corey anymore. But I’ll always care about him.”

  “We’re calling him Corey again?” Jenn asks. “You’ve done it twice now.”

  “I can’t hold a grudge forever.”

  “Especially now that she’s with a rock star,” Krista says. “In your face, Corey Gorman.”

  “I’m not with anyone, Krista.”

  “But you want to be.”

  I think of the picture on my phone. “It’s way more complicated than that.”

  “When are you going to see him again?” Jenn asks.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You didn’t make any plans?”

  “He’s got a lot going on this week. He’s moving into a new apartment, and the band is switching rehearsal studios.”

  They’re excuses I’ve made for him, but deep down I wonder why we didn’t make any plans. When we said goodbye at the airport, I didn’t want to seem needy by asking what happens next.

  “I still can’t believe you went on tour with them,” Krista says. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be able to say you spent six weeks with Reckless Alibi.”

  I’ll always have Florida.

  “How about we order pizza and talk about what the two of you have been doing while I was away?”

  A few hours later, they leave, and I get out my sketches and organize them. Jimmy’s face reminds me of Liam, and I realize I miss him already.

  I put the drawings down and fall heavily on the couch. “What have you gotten yourself into, El?”

  After wallowing in self-pity for a few minutes, I decide to go for a run to clear my head. It’s hard to turn my brain off, though. When did I become this clingy woman who needs to be reassured? What if everything has changed now that we’re back in New York? Maybe being on the road together was different—more romantic somehow. Now that we’re back, he’ll forget about the things we did. The words we said.

  “Shut up,” I tell myself. “You’re overthinking this.”

  Later, when I’m in bed, my phone pings with a text. It’s after midnight. My heart soars when I see who it’s from.

  Liam: It’s strange, isn’t it?

  Me: What’s strange?

  Liam: Not being in the same room.

  Me: Yeah.

  Liam: Goodnight, Mrs. Campbell.

  Me: Goodnight, Mr. Campbell.

  I smile, put the phone away, and fall asleep.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Liam

  Moving day is here. I can hardly contain myself. Technically I moved out of Dirk’s house the week before going on tour, but it never felt real until now.

  Crew picked up the keys this morning. We’re in the elevator, riding up to the eighth floor. “Are you sure you want my old bedroom furniture?” he asks. “I mean, you can afford to buy something new if you want. We all can.”

  “I’m sure. I’m saving my money.”

  “For what?”

  I glance at Bria and Garrett. They wouldn’t understand. I shake my head.

  “I hope you don’t mind. We picked out living room furniture and a dining table yesterday,” Bria says. “Everything is being delivered later this afternoon.”

  “Better not be covered in flowers and shit,” Garrett says.

  Crew snorts. “I think you’ll find them more than acceptable.”

  The elevator doors open, and Crew leads the way to the apartment. We step inside and stand in silence for a moment.

  “This is really happening,” Bria says.

  Crew puts an arm around her and smiles.

  The living room is larger than I thought it would be, which is nice, considering there are four of us sharing it.

  “Wait until you see the kitchen,” Bria says. “They put in all new appliances. The refrigerator may even be big enough to hold all your beer.”

  “Who needs beer?” Garrett says. “Where’s the liquor cabinet?”

  Crew opens a cabinet under the kitchen bar and pulls out a bottle of whiskey and four glasses.

  Garrett grins. “Now we’re talking.”

  “At eleven in the morning?” Bria asks.

  Crew pours us each a shot. “We have to toast our new place. Reckless on three?”

  Bria shakes her head. “Not that. It doesn’t seem right without Brad.”

  “He had his chance to get in on this,” I say. “He’s probably picking out china patterns with Katie or some shit like that.”

  “Hey, now,” Bria warns. “Crew and I will be doing the same thing at some point.”

  Crew looks like he’d rather be strung up by his balls. “China? Really?”

  Garrett holds up his glass. “You’re leaving me hanging, guys. Can we do this?”

  “To our new place,” Crew says.

  “Boring as shit,” Garrett says, “but what the hell.”

  We clink glasses and drink.

  “Which room is mine?” I ask.

  Crew points to some doors on the left. “You and Garrett can fight it out. Both bedrooms are about the same size. One has a bigger closet and the other has a better view.”

  I get a guitar pick out of my pocket and turn to Garrett. “The side with the design on it is heads. The blank side is tails. Call it.”

  “Tails,” he says when it’s in the air.

  Crew grabs the pick before it lands. “You have to assign something to heads, douchebag.”

  “No we don’t,” Garrett says. “If I call it right, I get first choice at the rooms. Now you went and ruined it. It was going to be tails. I know it.”

  “Sorry,” he says. “Maybe you should have explained the rules before you flipped.”

  I slip the pick back in my pocket. “Take whichever one you want. I don’t give a shit. I’m just happy I never have to spend another night under Dirk’s roof.”

  “Yeah, but you’re still under his control,” Garrett says, peeking in the bedrooms. “We all are.”

  “Not for long.”

  Crew asks, “Is that what you’re saving money for? To buy us out of the IRL contract?”

  “I wish. But it’s a million bucks, man. Even at the rate we’re earning now, I wouldn’t h
ave enough by myself. There are other ways to get out from under him.”

  “Like what?” Bria asks.

  “I’m working on it.”

  Crew eyes me suspiciously, but he knows better than to air my dirty laundry in front of everyone.

  Garrett points. “I’ll take that one. I couldn’t care less about the closet, but there’s an adult toy store down the street I can see from the window. Might be interesting to see who comes and goes.”

  I laugh and enter my new room, stand in the center of it, and turn around. It feels like freedom.

  Hours later, after I’ve finished putting my bed together and the sun is setting, I unpack boxes, starting with the heavy one. I look at each book as I put it on a shelf. I have every autobiography ever written about guitar players I’ve worshiped, binders full of sheet music, and books about composing.

  A piece of paper sticks out of one of the books. I sit on the bed, staring at it. I had almost forgotten it was there. I’ll never forget the day I found it. I was fifteen. I was rummaging through Mom’s room for the weed I knew she kept hidden there. I smoked a lot back then, and there was only so much I could get away with stealing from Helen and some of Dirk’s other employees. After I found the letter, I smoked everything she had. Then I drank so much vodka, I had to be rushed to the hospital, where they pumped my stomach. She had kept it from me for over three years.

  I open it hesitantly.

  Liam,

  I’m sorry. There are so many things I’m sorry for, I don’t even know where to start. The thing that upsets me the most is that I couldn’t protect you. I thought you’d be safe. If he was doing those things to me, he wouldn’t need you. Last night, I found out how wrong I was. And I can’t live with myself, knowing that because I didn’t say anything, he got to you. I should have realized the day I found the magazine. It’s my fault. I just hope you can forgive me. I tried all night to convince myself you’d come out of it better than me. Maybe you wouldn’t be so fucked up by everything. Maybe because you’re so much younger, things won’t get as bad and you’ll be able to forget and move on. Those are the thoughts I’ll hold onto.