Rock Me (New Adult Romance) (3 page)

The afternoon started to go sour, though,
when the interviewer decided to corner said rock god.

“So Liam, I’m wondering how you got your
start in music. After all, I’ve heard you studied to be a car mechanic. Though rumor
is your stepfather was an ace with the acoustic guitar. Was he the one who
encouraged you to try the business?”

Liam immediately stiffened. I could hear
his breathing become shallower. “Not really,” he said quietly. “He had nothing
to do with it.”

But the interviewer didn’t look
satisfied. “But your family doesn’t have a history of playing music. You didn’t
even take lessons growing up. And I hear your stepfather played at local clubs,
was a real favorite.”

“Yeah man, he played country stuff.
Nothing like what I do. He had zero to do with my career or me learning to play
the guitar, OK?”

But instead of backing down, the
interviewer just looked more interested. He leaned forward. “Your birth dad
skipped out when you were young. Did you take up the guitar as a way to cope? A
lot of your songs are about loss, I’m just wondering what makes you write
them.”

Liam pushed away his plate of steak and
fries. “Look man, I know you’re here to get the dirt, but I don’t want to talk
about my past, OK? That stuff’s over and done with. Now my life is about my
music, about getting people pumped about rock, and about travelling. You got
questions about those things, I’ll answer them.”

“Okay, take it easy,” the interviewer
replied, looking taken aback. “It’s cool. But you say you want to talk about
your music, I want to know what inspires those songs because that’s what your
fans want to know. It sounds like you had a crazy past—Dad skips out,
stepdad was charged with public drunkenness several times…”

Liam, who was on the outside of the
booth, immediately slid out and grabbed his leather jacket. “You got a real
nerve, man,” he said fiercely. “Why you want to go and bring that stuff up?
It’s none of your damn business or anyone else’s for that matter. I’m outta
here. Later guys.” And with that he took off. The interviewer and I sat there
gape-mouthed while the other guys merely continued chewing like this was a
regular affair.

“Excuse me,” I finally said when I
returned to my senses. I slid out of the booth and bolted towards the door.

I finally caught up with him on the
street where he was trying to hail a cab. He was clearly in a dark mood.

“Hey Liam,” I said timidly. “You OK?”

“Yeah perfect,” he said. He looked at me
quickly. “Sorry to ruin your lunch. I didn’t see it going down like that.”

“That’s OK. Where are you heading?”

“Dunno. Back to the hotel, I guess.” He
stuck out his hand, searching for a cab in the honking traffic.

“You want to maybe grab a coffee first?”
I asked timidly. “No questions asked.”

He looked at me again, this time for
longer. His green eyes were just as intense but they looked wary and even
scared.

“I appreciate that Shay, but I gotta just
chill for a while. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later, OK?” He kissed me on the
mouth quickly and then got into a cab that had just pulled up at the curb. I
watched that yellow cab weave through the bumper-to-bumper traffic, my heart
sinking as I felt the lingering sting of that careless kiss.

A slice of light filtered through the
curtains as I sat curled up in a gray felt easy chair with my laptop. The room
was dark with only the endless white noise of traffic to keep me company. Aimee
slept soundly on the pull out couch across from me, an occasional whistle emitting
from her nose. I smiled to hear it; it was like a little piece of home.

Aimee had immediately left me alone when
I’d returned from the interview—I’m sure the look on my face was enough
to realize that I wasn’t OK. Instead she mandated a night in watching chick
flicks on her laptop and sipping on fresh fruit smoothies whipped up by
Felicia. My body was satisfied by the injection of vitamins but my mind refused
to settle. After an hour of tossing and turning I’d given up the gambit and
cracked open my laptop to distract me.

At first I merely scrolled through my
favorite baking blogs. But even an amazing recipe for white chocolate rainbow
fudge couldn’t keep my attention. I turned instead to the Black Dawn message
boards to see what the latest news was. I was intrigued to see that a Hazard 41
thread had been started and without thinking I clicked over to it.

Black Dawn will forever be my favorite
band,
a message by
johnnynineforever read,
but Hazard 41 is definitely the runner-up! I saw
them at the New York show and they rocked. That guitarist is sure yummy, too.

I rolled my eyes.
And he’s sure
temperamental,
I thought.

The next message read:
OMG I know! His
name’s Liam Carter. Too bad he only seems to date blonde sticks otherwise I’d
be after him in a second.

Blonde sticks what? I frowned, my index
finger hovering over the track pad. I didn’t want to keep reading but at that
point, it was inevitable.

Girl, don’t worry! I was at Minetta the
other night and I saw him close and cuddly with a Plain Jane brunette. But
don’t get any ideas because he’s soon going to be mine!
 johnnynineforever piped in then
with:
Wow totally going against type! Maybe she’s the daughter of someone at
the label? Haha that’s totally mean. Anyway, at least we now have a chance,
right?

I snapped close my laptop. I’d read
enough. Aimee moaned and turned as if sensing my ire. I breathed deeply. Who
did these strangers think they were to say that I was a ‘Plain Jane’ and that
Liam was only interested in me for my (non-existent) connections?

After a couple minutes of deep breathing
the anger was slowly replaced by a growing sense of dread. What were these mean
girls implying by saying that he was dating against type? I’d never thought
that he usually went for girls like me, but still…

I found myself cracking open my laptop
again, curiosity smothering a small voice inside that warned me against prying
into things I didn’t want to know. A second later I was googling ‘Liam Carter.’

The first photos were simply concert
shots taken by fans. I sighed inwardly as I ogled Liam’s tall; muscular frame
encased in tight jeans and tighter T shirts. His gorgeous green eyes were even
more intense than usual, his shoulder length hair wild and sweaty, his strong
fingers frozen in frantic motion over his prized guitar.

I should have just stopped there.

Two more scrolls revealed more casual
photos of Liam at press events, signing with Black Dawn at music stores,
attending functions, and even a few shots of him just getting a drink at a bar
or out at dinner. A couple of photos were professional shots but many more were
obviously taken my excited fans. I indulged myself in another eye roll. But my
amusement turned to a cold sense of emptiness as I spotted, again and again, a
very beautiful blonde next to him.

The blondes were obviously not fans from
the way they were elegantly draped around Liam. Their hands rested around his
waist, their cheeks pressed against his, their eyes rested admiringly on him.
And they were uniformly model-thin gazelles with perfectly pressed and
highlighted manes, designer duds, and teetering heels.

My sharp intake of breath must have woken
up Amy because she suddenly stirred.

“Shay, what the heck are you still doing
up?” she mumbled.

“911,” I breathed. “You gotta take a look
at this.”

Aimee leapt out of bed and was at my side
in a flash. Confusion crossed her face as she surveyed the photos.

“God Shay, I thought you were going to
say someone died. Don’t tell me you’re up in the dead of night trolling photos
of Liam?”

My heart was still beating out of control
as my eyes frantically surveyed each and every photo. “Look who he’s with,” I
breathed.

She leaned in for a closer look and
sighed. “Shay, the guy’s got a past. Without the help of Google you wouldn’t
need to know any of this. It’s not important. The guy’s obviously into you and
that’s all that matters.”

She stopped speaking though when she saw
my teary eyes. “Aw Shay,” she said, leaning in for an awkward hug.  “Girl,
don’t torture yourself.”

“Aimee, he was really weird at the
interview today. He took off with barely a kiss. What if he’s realized that
this little experiment, toying with the Plain Jane fat girl, has gone too far?”

“Hush Shay, you’re not an experiment. Any
guy would be lucky to be with a girl just as genuine, sweet, smart, and, yes,
gorgeous, as you are. So you’re not who he usually dates. Is he the type of guy
you
usually date?”

“No,” I replied wiping away the budding
tears. “But that’s because I’ve never had the chance. Liam could have any girl
he wants.”

Aimee pulled back to look me in the eyes.
Her blonde hair was squished against her face and I could barely make out red
welts from the pillow. “Sure he could, but how many times do you think he’s
been with a girl who really wants to be with
him
? You like that he’s a
rocker, but he’s also a good guy, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling newly sad. “He’s
interesting, he’s kind, and he’s
complicated
. But why would he care if
some average girl liked him for who he is?”

“Aw Shay, it makes me sad to hear that.
You’re anything
but
average.” She patted me on the back. “Listen,
nothing seems right at 3 a.m. or whatever time it is. Let’s try to get some
sleep. Tomorrow’s a new day, right?”

I had to agree with her. My feelings were
too overwhelming. I just wanted to sleep and wake up to a hopefully more
forgiving tomorrow. We crawled into bed. While Aimee fell asleep immediately, I
confess that it took me much longer.

* * *

I tried not to be moony as Aimee and I
sat at Felicia’s breakfast table the next morning. After all, this was Aimee’s
summer too and I didn’t want to ruin it for her with my emotional
rollercoaster. Instead, I threw myself into the latest issue of
People
,
skipping the pages full of skinny socialites. I was groggy after my restless
night but Felicia’s excellent strong coffee helped a lot.

Felicia was on the phone, elegantly
dressed in a matching Victoria Secret pajama pink set with black piping. On the
other hand, I was wearing plaid boxers with an old T-shirt from my high school.
I sighed, re-focusing on my coffee.
Stop it with the self-hate, Shayla,
I said to myself.
Aimee’s right, you need to stop being so hard on yourself.

Felicia hung up the phone and approached
us, beaming. “Girls, I have a little surprise for you this morning. I know how
much you’ve wanted to see Rent. Well, I’ve been representing their production
company and I managed to score two tickets to the show this afternoon. Whaddya
think?”

All thought of Liam immediately fell out
of my brain. Aimee and I turned to look at each other mouths agape. It wasn’t
long before we were screaming and bouncing up and down in our chairs.

“You have to be kidding me!” Aimee
gasped, breathless. “Rent? Us?
This afternoon?
”

Which is how Aimee, Felicia, and I found
ourselves on Broadway, waiting in line outside the theatre. Aimee and I were
freshly showered, dressed in maxi dresses and sandals, feeling pretty, happy,
and oh-so-excited. We were huge fans of musical theatre and while we lacked the
talent to sing or act, we had helped behind-the-scenes every year with our
school’s production. Aimee loved set design while I was more comfortable
helping with logistics and promotion. But other than at our school, we’d never
seen a live performance, having to be content with movie versions and
soundtracks. But that would soon change.

Soon we were seated in the third row
center. The seats were perfect and we spent the next couple of hours totally
enraptured with the brilliant lights, the charismatic acting, the passionate
singing, and dramatic sets. Rent’s modern story and tear-jerking story got us
every time. We exited the theatre overwhelmed and thrilled, Felicia smiling
happily beside us.

“Our summer is now complete,” Aimee
enthused. “There is no way it can get better.”

“It can and it will,” I countered and
Aimee rewarded me with a toothy smile.

We headed over to Shake Shack at Madison
Square Park to celebrate our good luck. Aimee and I had become insta-fans of
the low-key outdoor restaurant with its rocking burgers and delicious custard
shakes. We both ordered a burger with cheese and shakes in crazy flavors. Mine
had waffles in it and Aimee’s had donuts. We settled in at a table and munched
happily under a blue sky dotted by fleecy clouds. Families and dog walkers
strolled by. Everyone looked so content. It was a perfect Sunday.

That is until a certain tall figure
walked briskly over to the counter to order. He was wearing a tight black shirt
with a studded jean jacket and Docs. My breath caught as my eyes followed his
every movement. Aimee’s eyes followed my own.

“Oh no,” was all she said.

Liam collected his paper bag and walked
right by us before doing a double take. His eyes bugged as he took me in.
“Shayla,” he said. “Wow, it is so good to see you.”

I felt like I wanted to sink into the
earth. “Hey Liam,” I said, delicately swabbing my face with a napkin to make
sure no traces of burger were left.

“I, uh,” he stopped, looking over at
Felicia and Aimee’s unfriendly faces. “I wanted to share some good news with
you.
Spin Magazine
has asked me and the guys to do a shoot with them
tomorrow.”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” I said, genuinely
pleased. “Congrats.”

“Thanks,” he said, seeming nervous. He
shifted his feet. “I’m not sure if you’ll agree to this after how I acted
yesterday but I really want you to come with me. This photography stuff still freaks
me out. I’d love to have you there.”

I looked down at my shake. “I don’t know
Liam. It sounds great but Aimee and I have tentative plans.”
Liar
, I
thought.

“Ah OK,” he said, still shifting
uneasily. “Well if your plans don’t work out, I’d love to see you. Really.” The
note in his voice caught my attention. But before I could respond he took off,
with only a nod to Felicia and Aimee.

I sat there stunned.

“Tentative plans, eh?” Aimee said. “So
what’re you going to do?”

I shook my head, still overwhelmed. Just
then my cell buzzed.

I’m so sorry. The interview brought up
some crazy things for me. I hope I can explain soon. In the meantime, please do
me the honor of coming tomorrow. I’ll send you the address. xo

* * *

Liam stared at me from across the room.
I’d come into the shoot late and we hadn’t yet had a chance to talk. The energy
in the studio was intense—stylists bustled about with racks of clothes,
photography assistants adjusted the lights, magazine staff directed the flow of
traffic, and catering staff tended to a table overflowing with food. But for
Liam and me, it was like we were the only two people in the room.

The connection between us was palpable
and so overwhelming that I could only glance up to meet his gaze every once in
a while. Otherwise, I felt like I was being burned. My mind was in
tumult—after all, I was hoping to keep things platonic.

I’d deliberately not dressed to impress.
After all, there was no way I could compete with all those blonde babes. I’d
donned my trademark blue sneaks, blue jeans, and a white Roxy V-neck T. I felt
comfortable and causal—more like me.

Aimee’s words continued to burn into my
mind:
Shay, you know you two can’t just be friends.

He obviously needs a friend,
I’d protested.
I know he can’t be
interested in me, uh like that. But it’s the least I can do to give him some
support.

Aimee had shaken her head.
It’s not a
good idea, hon. He may be a rock star, but he’s also damaged goods. Do you
really want to hurt yourself?

But I’d felt strongly that I at least
owed Liam the chance to explain. He’d obviously had some heavy issues on his
mind during the interview. I wasn’t perfect either what with my body issues and
other insecurities. Aimee was probably right in that it wasn’t a good idea for
us to get involved but I’d seen what his world was like. If I could provide a
bit of grounding to him then I was happy to do that.