Please Stay for Me (The Brotherhood Series)

by M. W. McKinley

  Instead of thanking her, we got in an argument over my not returning Dad’s phone calls. He had been trying to reach me. I didn't even want to hear his voice. The moment I heard his familiar greeting of “Hey there, darling,” I would break down into a puddle of tears and forgiveness. He should have already shown up at Meme’s to get me so forgiving him was the last thing I wanted to do.

  Meme said he just needed time, and he would eventually come to his senses. I didn’t think he should have to come to his senses. I thought he should want me regardless of his grief over Mom.

  The sound of Katherine’s phone pinging brings me back to the present. I put Meme’s sticky note back on the can of pepper spray and return it to my purse.

  “One more minute, and we’ll go,” Katherine says as she adjusts the strap of one of her tall leopard-print wedges.

  My gaze travels from her shoes up to her short black wrap dress compared to my plain brown flip-flops and simple navy t-shirt dress. I know from high school this is a typical look for Katherine. The only t-shirts she owns all have some sort of Taylor Swift reference on them.

  We walk to the other side of the music department where a group of people are already gathered for the campus tour. A tall guy with curly brown hair wearing ironed khaki pants and a white dress shirt addresses the group. “The Oxford University Music Faculty is one of the largest music departments in the UK.”

  He continues to talk as Katherine leans in. “He’s cute.”

  Katherine has said this phrase many times since we began this journey together. The list so far includes the pilot on our flight over, our Uber driver, three random students as we dragged luggage to our assigned dorms, and now our tour guide who we learn is named Oliver.

  We follow Oliver into the music department as he continues to talk about the history of the building. Students skirt around us since our group fills up most of the brightly lit hallway. "This area is dedicated to individual rehearsal rooms," Oliver explains.

  The sound of a violin escapes through a door at the opposite end of the hallway. The opening notes of a familiar song, “Adagio for Strings,” distracts me as Oliver continues to talk. I remember reading the name of this song in the program for the New York Philharmonic performance. When I briefly look around, everyone else is still paying attention to Oliver. Well, Katherine is busy texting someone.

  My feet move until I find myself peering into the window of an individual rehearsal room. The guy playing has chin-length blonde hair, but I can only see his face in profile. He wears a light blue t-shirt that fits tightly against his upper body. What really holds my attention is his performance, though.

  I probably look like a stalker, hopefully a non-threatening one, but I can’t turn away. My mind is pleading with my body to move before unwelcome memories take over, but my feet feel like weights as I stay rooted in place.

  The mystery guy turns slightly, noticing me for the first time. I didn’t know I had a type until I see his face, and I feel guilty for silently teasing Katherine about cute guys. I think he may stop playing so I can escape this trance, but he only falters for a moment before moving his bow smoothly back into the song. As he keeps his eyes on me, my weighted feet feel even heavier.

  Katherine’s voice finally breaks me free. "Avery, come on.”

  When I turn towards her, I see our group moving on. I look back at the guy one last time. He stopped playing and is quickly laying his violin in its plain black case.

  When I start walking away, I hear an extremely attractive British accent. "Hey, wait!”

  My plan is to keep walking, but Katherine catches my arm turning me towards him. "Hi, there," she answers for me.

  “I know you probably have to go, but hopefully I'll see you again." He holds out a neon-green piece of paper in our direction. "I'm Liam, by the way."

  Only a foot apart, his captivating blue eyes stand out more than any of his other features. We just stare at each other for a moment. His intense gaze makes me feel better about my earlier stalking.

  Katherine takes the paper and briefly looks it over. "We'll be there. I'm Katherine, and this is Avery."

  His answering smile seems to be for me alone.

  I manage to smile in return, hoping my face isn’t advertising every feeling I’m experiencing on the inside—feelings I can’t even define right now.

  “Nice to meet you,” he says while holding his hand out in my direction.

  I take his hand. “Nice to meet you, too.” That was a complete sentence with all the words in the correct order. So far, so good.

  Now that his warm hand holds mine, I’m not sure what words are anymore. Wait. This isn’t me. I’m not the kind of girl made speechless by a guy, no matter how attractive he may be. I gently pull my hand away in an attempt to break our connection, literally and figuratively.

  “We’ve got to catch up to our group,” I tell Katherine.

  “See you this weekend,” Katherine tells Liam.

  But his eyes are still on me as he says, “Can’t wait.”

  After raising my hand in a very awkward half-wave gesture, I turn and begin walking away to avoid embarrassing myself further.

  "We are definitely going." Katherine hands me the flyer as we catch up with our group.

  It’s a band named Brotherhood made up of Liam and three other guys. "I might be busy."

  Katherine laughs as if I told a joke. "We have the exact same schedule. You’re not busy, and we’re totally going."

  Whether I want to or not, I hear Liam’s violin in my head the rest of the day. My mind tries to push away the memories associated with that song. It’s as if those memories were out of focus before today. Hearing just a part of “Adagio for Strings” brings everything back into focus. With my camera, it’s an easy adjustment, but my mind has to work in overdrive to make the memories blurry again.

  Liam just had to be playing that song. If Katherine wants me to go to his show, she’ll have to drag me there herself.

  Chapter Four

  Liam

  "Number fifteen," Rob says.

  I look to my left while messing with a cord connected to the closest speaker. Rob’s sitting on a stool with one leg propping up his guitar. The rip in his jeans completely exposes his right knee. People probably think he buys them that way, but Rob is notoriously clumsy. He got his pant leg caught on a screw while we were exiting the train station a few weeks ago.

  "What?" I reply while eyeing the vintage Beatles shirt he’s wearing which was clearly stolen from my wardrobe.

  "That is the number of times you have looked at the front door. Are we expecting someone? Will the Pope walk into Eddie's Pub any minute?"

  Sure enough, a man old enough to be my grandfather walks in, and Rob's laughter fills the space between us. "He's rather casual tonight, yeah? Maybe he's in disguise. A shame. I've always wanted to see one of those Pope hats up close. What are they called? The one with all the jewels he fancies?"

  I try to ignore him, but then I hear the big wooden door creak again. That large hunk of mahogany will determine my fate tonight.

  "Number sixteen!" Rob declares loudly enough to catch Lei and Eric's attention.

  The sound of Lei's bass behind me stops. "Sixteen what?"

  "Don't worry about it.” I find a way to change the subject. "Lei, that guy at the bar is checking you out."

  I feel Lei move directly behind me as he tries to get a better look. "The one wearing the black beanie?"

  "That would be the one.”

  I step aside so Lei can hop off the stage. None of us liked his last boyfriend, so I'm more than happy to help him move on. I watch as he approaches the guy and leans against the long wooden bar that makes up the entire right side of the pub. There are more bar stools than space allows. Traditional stained glass behind the bar contrasts against the dark gleaming wood. Liquor bottles are neatly stacked on center shelves.

  Lei briefly touches his neck , which is the only indication he may be nervous.

 
; Then, my attention is on the front door again.

  "Number seventeen," Rob says happily next to me.

  I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine. Just so you'll stop counting, I met someone the other day, and I was hoping she’d be here tonight."

  He raises an eyebrow. "You met someone where?"

  I nod to one of the usual servers, Harry, weaving through the tables with a tray held high in the air. "She was doing the whole orientation thing at University. I think she's American."

  "Like study-abroad?" He pulls a guitar pick out of his pocket.

  I shrug. "Probably." Her unique gray eyes are permanently sketched in my mind. It’s more about the way she watched me, though. Something more powerful than simply listening had occurred. She stood in the hallway almost mid-step and seemed to absorb every note.

  "Better not let Emily find out how interested you are, or she’ll search the whole country until she finds this girl,” Rob teases.

  I smile. "If Avery is a no-show tonight, I may let her."

  "Avery." He says in a sing-song voice. "Now who's adorable."

  I reach over and push him playfully on the shoulder. "I expect my shirt laundered and folded neatly on my bed by tomorrow."

  He feigns confusion. "But then it won't smell like me anymore."

  I give him a look. "Promise?"

  Lei comes back on stage with a huge smile on his face so I assume he got black-beanie's number.

  I try to ignore the front door as we focus on getting ready for our set. "Hello everyone! Thanks for coming to hear us tonight. We appreciate all of your support, even if you’re just here to drink," I begin. "We have Eric on drums, Rob on guitar, Lei on bass, and I'm Liam. We are Brotherhood , and we hope you enjoy the show." The crowd cheers as Eric counts off.

  The familiar lyrics of our first song, “Sixpenny Lane,” steal my focus as I get lost in the performance. It’s crazy to think there was a time when we weren’t playing together. I was the last one to join the band only a year ago.

  It all started with an advert posted on a bulletin board in the music department. “Lead singer wanted for alternative rock band.” For some reason the large black letters stood out every time I passed it. I wasn’t looking to join a band, but I kept wondering why no one had responded yet. Or maybe they just forgot to take the advert down.

  When I stopped to give it a closer look, I was able to read the contact information. Rob Taylor. I knew that name. We met at the social services office when I was nine years old. It couldn’t be the same Robert Taylor, though. The odds of that happening were nearly impossible. Although, the more I thought about it, it was strange we only ran into each other that one time. Oxford wasn’t London after all. Maybe he had moved around.

  At the time, I was being transferred to another foster home when a boy sat down on the bench next to me. Even though I could tell he was my age, it was difficult to focus on anything but the nasty bruises on his arms and neck. I knew there were probably more under his clothes, too.

  When he caught me staring, I asked, “Foster parents do that?”

  He shook his head. “My dad.”

  His answer took me by surprise since it was the first time I heard about someone’s real parents. I only associated social services with foster care since that’s all I’d known.

  "Robert Taylor?" Our heads turned when the social worker called his name. We studied each other a beat longer, and then he held his head up high before going into her office.

  Even though I had no intention of joining a band, I had to find out if that was the same bloke. Using the contact information on the advert, I emailed Rob about meeting up, which is how I had found myself standing in front of a posh terraced house a few minutes from campus.

  When the door opened, the person standing on the other side was an older version of the boy I had occasionally thought of over the years—just no more bruises.

  He looked me over as well. “Do I know you, mate?”

  I smiled. “I think so.”

  He tapped his thumb against the door frame. “Social services, right?”

  I nodded and held out my hand. “Liam Brooks.”

  “Rob Taylor,” he replied as he shook my hand. “Come on in.”

  Before I walked any further into the house, I admitted, “I didn’t actually plan on auditioning. I saw your name on the advert and had to know if you were the same bloke.”

  His brows knitted together. “Do you sing?”

  “Not really. I mean, I sing along with the radio. Sometimes in the shower. I’m actually studying violin at University which is where I saw the advert.”

  Rob smiled. “In the shower, huh? Well, let’s be honest, some of the most famous musicians can’t sing for crap. Let’s give it a go anyway.” He clapped me on the shoulder pulling me further into the house.

  A drum kit was set up in the corner, and Rob waved a hand in that direction. “Meet our drummer, Eric.” Eric raised a stick in the air. His long dark-brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and his assessing gaze already seemed to find me unworthy.

  “And that’s Lei on bass.” A bloke around my height with short black hair waved. His expression was open and friendly.

  “This is Liam, and we’re going to see if he can sing,” Rob said.

  “You mean he doesn’t know if he can sing?” Eric asked. “Where are you finding these eejits?”

  “My mum likes my voice,” I said, partly serious and partly teasing.

  Eric rolled his eyes, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Rob, on the other hand, stared at me with his brows knitted together again. “Your mum?”

  I gave him my full attention. “I was finally adopted a few years after we met.”

  “Brilliant!” Rob said. I could tell he genuinely meant it, too.

  “You?” I asked, hopeful.

  He shook his head. “No worries, though. I found an ace girl.”

  “I’m glad,” I said.

  “While this is very touching and all, can we get to the singing part?” Eric asked.

  Rob walked over and picked up his guitar off the stand. “What’s one of those songs you sing in the shower?”

  “Anything by Muse.”

  I didn’t miss the look that passed between them, but I couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. Then, I wondered why I was worried in the first place since I hadn’t planned on auditioning.

  But when Rob played the opening notes of “Madness,” I stepped up to the microphone and did my best. There was no audience, though. Even with the violin, I was used to an audience. When I heard Rob and Lei’s voice come in on the chorus, I turned to them, using their energy instead of the energy I would normally get from a crowd.

  After the last note, we were all quiet for a moment, but Rob’s smile was off the charts.

  Eric spoke first. “Only sing in the shower, huh?”

  I shrugged. “It’s definitely never felt like that.”

  “I think we found our lead singer,” Lei said as he set his bass down. “Just in time for Eddie’s next weekend.”

  Now, as I stand on the stage at Eddie’s performing with the same three blokes, who feel more like brothers than mates, I think about how easily I could have missed that advert.

  While in the middle of our third song, a flash of red near the front door catches my attention, and I take in a breath of relief. Avery's long brown hair is worn down again. A red jumper hugs her body perfectly. She speaks with a girl—I think her name is Katherine—before they both look towards the stage. There are packed tables between us, but I try to convey how happy I am to see her.

  But Avery’s expression is neutral, maybe even hesitant, as Katherine ushers them towards one of the only free tables against the wall. She looks back at the front door longingly as if she might make a run for it any moment.

  As I try to focus on the song, I glance over at Rob who offers me a teasing smile. My hands grip the microphone stand as I nod along to the beat. I pour everything I have into the song
while keeping my gaze in her direction.

  When it’s time for our first break, people are already nearing the stage to talk to us, but I waste no time making my way to her table.

  Katherine spots me first. She quickly stops talking and bumps Avery's shoulder.

  "May I?" I gesture towards the free chair next to Avery.

  She nods with the same hesitant look etched on her face, and I want to know how to make it go away.

  "Tell me about your drummer," Katherine says as soon as I sit down.

  I look towards the bar where Eric is surrounded by people. "That's Eric. He’s serious about drums and not much else." That reminds me of our argument the other day and how quickly he seemed to move past it.

  "Fascinating," Katherine replies while still watching him.

  Avery steals my focus as she meets my gaze. "You play the violin and sing?" Her tone makes me sound like a puzzle she can’t quite piece together.

  “I promise I do the first much better than the second.” Even though I’m joking, it’s also the complete truth.

  “Maybe marginally better,” she says.

  I laugh. “A girl who tells it like it is. Where have you been all my life?”

  Her expression sobers. "I'm only here for the summer."

  "I figured.” And now it sounds like I’m just looking for a hookup —great.

  Her eyes narrow. "Don't you need to talk to other people?" She looks around the packed pub.

  I’m losing her fast. "In all seriousness, when I'm not playing with the band, I'm earning my Doctor of Music at Oxford, obviously focusing on the violin. I'm an only child to two incredible parents who adopted me when I was thirteen. I have a clean record, I'm generally healthy and love to run in my spare time."

  That seems to get her attention. "Who actually loves to run in their spare time?"

  "This bloke." I put my hand over my heart. "I also have a minor reading addiction.”

  Her eyes dance all over my face as she finally smiles. "I have a minor sugar addiction."