Say It Strong (Say You Love Me Book 2) (9 page)

“You look happy about that,” she said, snapping me out of my daydream.

I was staring at her, her skin so perfectly smooth, shiny, and flawless. I loved her eyes, too, and more than anything, her full, sensual mouth. I imagined it doing sinful things to me. “I am. My parents are the best. I have pretty awesome brothers, too.”

“That’s wonderful.” She fidgeted and started to pick at her cuticles. “Now that I’ve run into you, I just wanted to say something. I’m sorry for what I said yesterday.”

I honestly had no clue what she was talking about. I felt dizzy, as if I wasn’t fully awake from a dream.

She went on, “I was completely out of line to tell you that I’m not like one of your groupies. First of all, it was presumptuous of me to even assume that you would have any…” She glanced at me for a nanosecond. I wasn’t going to agree with her. “And secondly, you were just being sweet.” She pressed her lips into a sad smirk. “What I should have said was thank you.”

“Oh. You’re welcome.”

Wow. That was a one-eighty. A woman who could admit she was wrong? Impressive. Sweet. I admired her even more now. This was looking better by the second. Maybe this was my chance to talk to her some more, get a sense of whether she’d want to board my crazy train of a life for even a short time.

I invited her to sit next to me on the stone bench. “So maybe I’m right.”

“About what?” she asked.

“About us meeting here. Maybe it’s a sign. We should talk more often.” I smiled. Luckily, she smiled back. “Both of us coming here, in this little corner of…” I scanned the familiar grounds. “Where are we today?”

“Seattle Center,” she said.

She didn’t argue about us getting to know each other more. That was definitely promising. “See? You have all the answers. I like that about you.”

“I don’t have all the answers. Just that one.” Abby chuckled.

“I bet you have more. I bet you probably know every city we’re going to, how many hours it’ll take to drive between each town, and exactly what time every show starts.”

She frowned. “Are you mocking me, Liam? You assume that because I play cello, I’m straitlaced, and nerdy, that I probably got straight A’s in school and a full scholarship to college?”

She may be frowning, but she could not get me that easily. “Because I’d be right, right?”

Abby laughed out loud, the most angelic sound I had ever heard in my life. Even her voice matched her music. “You got me there. God, I would suck as an actress.”

Let it be known that I was not oblivious to the huge smile on my face at this very moment. Taking a huge risk, I reached out to take her fingers, keeping my eyes on them. This was a deciding moment. Maybe I could go slow and see where things led. If I felt things weren’t going well, I would let her know. I would give her full disclosure on my feelings.

Do it, Liam,
I heard Garrick say in my mind.

“Seriously, you’re smart. You pay attention to details… You’re pretty amazing,” I said. Abby didn’t pull her fingers away, and I flipped her hand over gently to touch each fingertip. “The mark of a cellist, huh?”

Abby was breathless. Her words came out on a string of airiness. “After a while, you develop thick skin, I guess.”

I pulled her hand a little closer to me, but that was it. I couldn’t scare her away. With Abby, I would need to take my time. She was not a groupie. She’d already let me know that in no uncertain terms. Besides, you couldn’t rush perfection. “Trust me, I know all about that.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yeah. Not everyone loves me. I have my critics.”

“What do they say?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Some think I’m talentless. Some think I’m a Bono copycat…no originality…looks like Bon Jovi’s ugly cousin… You name it.”

She giggled then covered her mouth. “Sorry. When I first saw you, I thought you looked like a punk cowboy.”

“Punk cowboy, huh? I kind of like that.” I brushed her hair away from her eyes. She didn’t fight me, but she didn’t exactly jump on me either. Which was refreshing. And classy. And the reason I was keenly aware that I needed to get to know her better.

“I don’t think you’re talentless,” she said. “I heard you a cappella just now. You have a beautiful voice.”

Wow, coming from her, I was truly honored. Seriously. “Really? I gotta tell you I thought for sure you’d think I was a fake, too.”

“You care what I think?”

“Of course! I care a lot. Girl, you were a cello pirate in there last night, pillaging and plundering and taking no prisoners. You put everyone to shame! I would take your opinion over anybody else’s any day.”

A soft smile filtered onto Abby’s face, like nobody had ever talked like that to her before. But it was the truth, and I was simply letting her know it.

“In fact,” I added, “I was trying out a new lead-in to the song right before I heard you here.”

“I heard it,” she said, refocusing on pressing back her cuticles. “I like it for the live show. Gives it a little uniqueness for the concert experience while keeping the integrity of the recording for fans who like getting what they expect.”

I stared at her so hard, my eyeballs almost fell out. I wanted to hug her tight. “See? You get it. You just get it, Abby Chan.” A yellow and black butterfly flew between us just then.

She grinned. And leaned forward. And kissed me.

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

Abby

 

I’d heard it said before that life was not made up of minutes, hours, days, or weeks—it was made up of moments. If that was true, this was one of them. And clearly, I was temporarily insane. But Liam’s light honey eyes looked so pained, so perfect, I had to do it. There he was, worried about his credibility, talking music and plundering and things that mattered, when suddenly, I felt overwhelmed by the urge to tell him that I understood him—I got it.

I, too, had always felt like I wasn’t doing enough.

Do better in school, Abby.

Get better scores on your chair exams, Abby.

Make Samuel appreciate you more, Abby.

My own words—not anyone else’s. Sure, my mom wanted the best for me, sometimes pushed me, but most of it was purely self-driven.

I, too, doubted my own talents.

Why I couldn’t have told him all that without locking lips, I didn’t know. Maybe Rosemary was right, and my pheromones
were
telling me things my brain wasn’t willing to listen to, and it’d led to this—a single, sweet kiss. I closed my eyes, and without thinking, pressed my lips against his soft mouth. For the first time since our conversation began, I breathed. I breathed in the scent of his skin, I breathed in his aura, I breathed in the mist-spattered garden air.

I breathed in life.

I pulled away, my eyes opened, and his shock was clear. I’d just kissed Liam Collier—rock star. After that whole rant about not being one of his groupies and how he wouldn’t be conquering me.

“Wow,” he mumbled.

“I…I am so sorry. No clue, at all, what came over me.” Great, and if he had an ego about himself, I just made it ten times bigger by showing how weak I was around him.

“Whatever it is, I like it.” He reached for my hand, a light smile at his lips.

“No.” I pushed him away slightly. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was impulsive, imprudent. I should be getting back.” I stood from the bench and backed away.

“Abby, don’t leave.” He grasped on to my arm.

“I have to. Richard…he gave us a break, but that was ages ago. I’m already late making it back.”

“That was awesome,” he said. “Really, it was. I don’t think there was anything imprudent about it, but if that’s how you feel…then okay.”

“I had no right to surprise you like that.”

“Why not?” He chuckled lightly. “I loved it.”

So had I. For a second, my insecurity vanished and joy skipped through me. But
only
for a second.

Why…why had I done that? Was I so desperate for emotional and physical connection, I didn’t even realize how much I needed it? Had Samuel left me so devoid of both that now I needed to correct things? I stood there, watching his longing face, his sad-dog eyes. Rosemary was right—he was ruggedly beautiful. Not a pretty boy, not a fashion model, just naturally wow. My chest pounded in agreement.

My brain tried to make sense of what happened.

I couldn’t start anything with him. I was only here to spend the summer with Rosemary while making some money. But then, as though a little cartoon devil had suddenly perched itself on my shoulder, I thought about what other girls would say, girls I admired for being so assertive and strong.
What? It’s not like I want to marry the dude. I just want to kiss him.
But I never was any good at keeping things simple.

“I can’t get involved with you, Liam,” I said.

“It was just a kiss, Abby.” He tugged gently on my arm, coaxing me to sit down. “Come on. Let’s just keep talking.”

“I can’t. Really, I need to be getting back.”

“Abby…” he said, in a way that no one had ever said my name before. He drawled out the A, breathing life into it. “Don’t be scared.”

There was that word again. I wasn’t
scared
. I was
terrified
.

But then I thought about how this moment would be over soon, and I’d have to go back and tell Rosemary one of two stories. One, how I kissed Liam Collier, and he wanted more, but I left him high and dry by chickening out. Or…how I kissed Liam Collier, and he wanted more, so I leaned in and gave it to him…like a boss.

Girls high on confidence intimidated the dickens out of me, but here was my chance to be one of them. I couldn’t pass up this opportunity. Tentatively, I stepped toward him and slowly sank my butt onto the stone bench again. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

You can do this. It doesn’t have to be serious.

Liam scooped up my hand. His other slipped into my hair behind my head. “It’s okay.” He leaned in just a little, chin tilted, eyes studying me. He wasn’t asking for another kiss, but he was making it clear he was ready for one if I wanted more.

Which I did. Never before had one kiss driven me so close to unraveling. I felt it in every pore of my body, the tingling of being alive, turned on. Every inch of my skin ached for it.
No! Terrible idea!
my brain screamed.

Just do it, Abby,
my body sighed.

At war with myself again. But my brain had ruled me for way too long. It was time to listen to my body for once. So I did. I leaned in, and we kissed…again.

This time, it wasn’t so innocent. His tongue met mine as our lips explored in a tangled, delicious kiss. The more we kissed, the more my body gravitated toward him, the more I wanted to wrap myself around him until we were one. Was this what it meant to really want someone? I’d never felt this way with Samuel before, a scary thought I might explore later. I wasn’t sure.

Then again, Samuel never kissed like this.

With Liam, I thought I would feel like one of a thousand women he’d been with before, but I didn’t. I felt beautifully alone in this honor and privilege. He made me feel as though I were the only woman ever in his life, which of course, was just silly. His hands cupped my head, and my body pushed into his until I was almost in his lap. We sat there, wrapped up in each other’s arms, for a long time in the summery garden surrounded by fountains, flowers, and butterflies.

Surreal.

Finally, he pulled away and pressed his forehead against mine. “That,” he said, “was amazing.” His strong hands gripped my head and kept it from lolling on my shoulder like I’d lost consciousness.

Wow.

I kept my eyes closed and hung on to his smooth hands—a man’s hands—that cupped my cheeks, struggling for something to say, but there were no words. He was right. That was amazing. I was almost afraid to look into his eyes for fear that I wouldn’t see my same utter astonishment reflecting back at me, but when I opened them, there were grin lines around his eyes and on either side of his nose. A dimple in his cheek stood out from how hard he was smiling. His honey eyes melted into mine.

Liam Collier, smiling big after kissing me. “Or wasn’t it?” he asked, his grin dampening a bit.

“Yes!” I cried, then a bit lower, “Yes.” I squeezed his hand, running my fingertips along his arms, over the thick veins and tribal tattoos roping over them. I had kissed a man with tattoos.
Good Lord, Abby…

“Do you want to kiss me again?” he asked.

It was difficult to suppress the giggle in my throat. Didn’t most guys ask if they could kiss you, not if you wanted to kiss them? He put the ball in my court, making sure the decision was mine.

I couldn’t speak, only nodded, leaning in and stealing the kiss from him this time, putting my signature on it, impressing on him, in no uncertain terms, that I wanted him. I was so doomed it wasn’t even funny. I was fairly certain there was no way on earth I would be making it through this entire summer without more of him.

A new voice suddenly startled me out of my skin. “There you are.”

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