Since I still had a lot of time to kill, I flopped onto the couch with my laptop to check my messages. And that’s when I saw the email from Abigail. Lily must’ve used my computer to check her webmail. And for a split second I was relieved. I thought maybe Marcus had told his wife about the confrontation with Brad, and Abigail was writing to offer some kind of support.
But no.
I scanned the first line and my heart sank.
Lillian,
* * *
After the spectacle you made of yourself at the ballet, it has become apparent that your father and I have made some grave mistakes. Your dalliance with that musician is nothing more than a cry for help. Help that we are prepared to offer.
* * *
I would be remiss if I did not point out that I feel you have chosen a career path that is an utter waste of time and completely without merit. I am a supporter of the arts. After all, it was I who sought out the art-centered therapy to help you with your handicap when you were just a child. Not that it did much good. I couldn’t help but notice during our brief interaction that your speech impediment is more pronounced than ever. Are you taking steps to rectify the situation, Lillian, or have you chosen to embrace your disability and give up?
* * *
As I understand it, there is $24,800 that is due and payable before you will be eligible to graduate. It is unfortunate that your indiscretion with your musician friend cost you your job at the Mansion. Their $10,000 employee contribution would have gone a long way toward reducing your debt at the university. I dare say that your job as a barmaid will not go far in helping you meet your goal.
* * *
Your father and I have generously agreed to wipe this debt from your record. In addition, we will purchase a car for your graduation as a gesture of good will. I will use all my resources to persuade the museum or gallery of your choice to hire you.
* * *
As for the terms, they are simple. You will move back home, enter an intensive program for your speech impediment, and above all, you will cease all contact with Cameron Noble. You know as well as I that he will do nothing more than use you, possibly passing you off to one of his friends when he is through. And while you may be fine with that, I simply won’t allow you to ruin your reputation, and our good name.
Should you choose not to accept the help I offer, the degree you worked so hard to pursue will slip from your grasp.
* * *
In the end, Lillian, you’ll come to realize that I’m doing this for your own good. Someday, when you have children of your own, you’ll thank me.
Stunned, I slumped against the cushions. Marcus had said that he wanted Lily to be happy. Obviously, we had different ideas about what happiness meant. Locking Lily up and forcing her to live by their rules would never bring her any joy.
Is this what her life had been like?
The band around my heart pulled tight, and I knew it was Lily, calling to me without words. I wasn’t an artist, not like her, but I could paint a portrait with my music. And sinking onto the floor beside the bed, with only Lily’s soft breath for inspiration, that’s exactly what I did.
* * *
Slumping against a pillar in the lobby, I glanced over the lyrics of the song I’d written for Lily. Since Christian had to be checked out by a doctor before the promoter would allow him to take the stage, he was already at the venue. Sean tagged along to make sure Lindsey didn’t rope him into any interviews. We’d agreed to a press conference after rehearsal. And that was it.
I looked up when Logan sauntered into the lobby with Greg on his heels. Schooling my features, I pushed off the pillar. Greg had his reasons for firing Lily, but it was still a dick move.
“Ready to roll?” I said to Logan as I turned for the door.
“Cameron, can I talk to you for a second?” Greg asked, falling into step behind me.
“Not a good time.”
Logan gave me a sidelong glance as we walked, a brow raised in question. But he didn’t say anything.
“It’s about Lily.”
Hearing her name on Greg’s lips, my anger bubbled up, and I spun around. “Think very carefully before you open your mouth,” I warned. “The life you save could be your own.”
Greg shifted his gaze to Logan, looming behind me with his arms folded over his chest. Logan didn’t know the details. Not yet. But he had my back. Always.
His focus back on me, Greg cleared his throat. “I just wanted to explain,” he began, his voice as thin as his smile. “We have rules here. And Lily broke them. She was a good employee, and I liked her. But—”
“Liked her?” I growled. “You were practically humping her leg in the lounge not five days ago. You wanted to take her to my show and who knows what else. How many rules did that break?” Greg’s righteous indignation melted before my eyes. “That’s what I thought.” Pointing a finger at him, I stopped just short of poking him in the chest. “Keep my girl’s name out of your mouth, and if you see her—walk away.”
Before he could offer up more bullshit excuses, I marched out the door. Ducking into the waiting limo, I sank onto the plush leather seat and let my head fall back.
Logan slid in across from me. “You want to tell me what that was about?”
Sighing, I dug my fingers into my eyes. “Lily got fired over those pictures in the paper.”
He laughed. “So? We’ve got contacts. Have Chase work his magic. Hook her up with something else.”
I tipped forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “I take it you didn’t read any of the articles that accompanied the photos.”
Shrugging, Logan gave me a bland stare. “Nope.”
“Lily’s father runs the Tennison Foundation. He is the Tennison Foundation. She’s—”
“Marcus Tennison’s daughter?” he interjected, and when I nodded grimly, he sat back and shook his head. “Shit, that dude is major. I’m glad I didn’t fuck his daughter.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “It wasn’t like that,” I bit out.
“So… you didn’t fuck her?”
Logan knew everything about me. The good, the bad, and the very ugly. There was no use lying. “I didn’t just fuck her. I have feelings for her. I want to take her back to Austin. See where it goes.”
I waited for Logan to laugh. Or maybe try to talk me out of it. Instead, he grabbed two beers from the fridge. “Do you love her?”
I yanked the bottle from his hand with a snort. “I just met her.”
“That’s not what I asked.” He eyed me as he twisted off the cap on his beer. “It’s not the worst thing in the world, dude. All I’m saying is you better be sure before you drag her back to Austin and leave her sitting in an apartment while we go out and tear it up on the road. Unless she’s down for that. Having a steady piece when we’re not touring is cool, as long as she knows the score.”
It was like he’d shined a light on all my fears, the doubts I hadn’t voiced. But I had. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the song I’d written. “It’s more than that. I just don’t know if I can do it without fucking everything up.”
Logan arched a brow when I offered him the paper. “Those are just words,” he said. “Tell me how you feel.”
I shook my head, and I might’ve laughed. We didn’t discuss feelings. But when I opened my mouth to remind him of that, it all poured out. All the feelings I hadn’t admitted, not even to myself.
When I finished, Logan eased back, crossing his legs at the ankle. “You won’t fuck it up. Not if you meant even half of what you just said.”
“Do you think my old man meant it?”
The thought slid out with ease, like it was there all along. Waiting to break free. Tyler Noble was a terrible father, and an even worse husband. But my mother had loved him. Hell, she loved him still. And at some point, the feeling was mutual. But that didn’t stop him from doing all the terrible things he did.
Logan’s gaze shifted to the window. “We don’t all t
urn out like our daddies.”
I nodded, more for his benefit than mine. As bad as Tyler was, Logan’s father was worse. “I guess you’re right.”
The heavy mood lifted, and Logan smiled. “‘Course I’m right. I’m always right.” Leaning forward, he clinked his bottle against mine. “A toast to your balls. May they have a long and peaceful life. In Lily’s purse or wherever the hell she’s keeping them.”
I grinned. “If you knew what that girl did to my balls, you wouldn’t be laughing. You’d surrender yours in a heartbeat. It’s that fucking sweet.”
Logan lifted a brow, intrigued. “Do tell. Sharing is caring, ya’ know.”
Shaking my head, I polished off the rest of my beer. “Not this time, bro.”
* * *
After rehearsal, the band filed into one of the luxury suites at the stadium to face the reporters Lindsey had assembled for our press conference. I let my mind wander while Christian regaled everyone with tales of his adventures at the hospital.
“My question is for Cameron.”
Snapping my attention to the woman in the front row with her hand up, I swallowed hard when I noticed the name on her press pass. Sandy Gruber. The same name on the byline in yesterday’s story.
I jerked a nod, and she stood up.
“Would you care to give us a statement about the nature of your relationship with Lillian Tennison?”
I flicked my gaze to Lindsey, hoping she’d head this off at the pass. But she seemed as interested in my answer as everyone else.
“No comment.”
Moving on, I pointed to a reporter in the second row. But before he could get his question out, Sadie blurted, “Is there any truth to the reports that Miss Tennison is now with Chad Dyer from Crimson Five? Our source confirmed she’s staying with him at the Omni Hotel.”
I opened my mouth to spit out a denial, but at the last second, the truth coiled around my tongue. “You need to check your sources. Because Lily’s with me.”
Sadie inclined her head, surprise painting her features. And I was surprised myself. “So, I can confirm that you’re involved with Lillian Tennison?”
Snatching my sunglasses from the table, I pushed out of my chair. “You can confirm anything you want. But I don’t have any further comments about my girlfriend.”
A flurry of follow up questions rang out as the guys followed me to the adjacent dressing room. Once the door was closed, Logan fell into a chair and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Rookie mistake, Cam.”
I shot him a scolding glare. “No shit.”
This was Media 101. Kindergarten stuff. The reporter wrote a society column, for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t even a hardball question. Clearly, I wanted to say it. To declare it. I wanted Abigail Tennison to choke on her tea when she read it.
Lindsey teetered in on her usual heels, a broad smile plastered on her face. “Simply wonderful,” she said, her voice rising to a cackle. “Normally, I would take your head off for the lack of self-control, Cameron. But Lily Tennison? Your fling is going to make the papers from here to Houston.”
“How did a society columnist get access to this press conference?” I asked.
Lindsey’s eyes widened to saucers, her usual unflappable demeanor crumbling. “She called and requested an interview. I didn’t see the harm in extending the invitation.”
“How did she know about Chad?”
She bit her bottom lip and I knew—she leaked it. Still, I waited for the confirmation, glaring daggers in her skull.
She lifted her chin. “I might have mentioned it.”
Logan jumped to his feet so fast he knocked the chair back two feet. “Get out! You’re fucking fired!
Lindsey’s mouth dropped open, and her gaze darted to Christian and Sean. Finding no comfort there, she shifted her attention back to Logan. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” she sputtered. “If I have to spend another day in this godforsaken state, I’ll tear my hair out. Good riddance.”
Storming out of the room like she was the aggrieved party, she slammed the door behind her. Sean was the first to laugh, and after a beat we all joined in.
Logan threw his arm around my neck. “Like your mama always said, Cam, you can’t trust a chick that ain’t from Texas.”
* * *
The forty-five-minute drive back to Dallas took over three hours with traffic and my little detour to the mall. Closing my eyes, I turned the tiny box over and over in my hand. It was a token. Nothing really. A guitar pick made of white gold with a diamond in the corner and Lily’s name engraved on the back, along with the date we met.
Music was my first love, and I wanted to share it with Lily. If I could be as faithful to her as the words I put on paper, we could get through anything.
I jumped out of the limo as soon as we coasted to a stop in front of the Mansion.
“Hey!” Logan called after me. “Where are you going? We’ve got a ton of shit to go over.”
Skidding to a stop, I let my head fall forward. He was ruining my fun. “Like what?”
Joining me by the door, he lowered his voice so no one else would hear. “Like…I just fired our manager and we’ve got nobody to handle our tour now.”
I thought I might be able to get one day of peace before Logan started second guessing our decision. And I got it. Changing managers was a big, scary move. But I hadn’t fully come to grips with my other big, scary move. I only knew Lily was waiting for me, and I didn’t have time to waste standing around worrying about Lindsey.
Blowing out a breath, I pinned on a reassuring smile. “What’s done is done, bro. We can’t worry about what might happen. I’ll call Chase. He’ll know what to do.”
Logan rubbed the back of his neck, unconvinced. “The label is gonna shit. They handpicked Lindsey.”
I softened a little. He was right. And it didn’t matter that most of this shitstorm was about me. Metro would blame Logan and his fiery temper.
“Dude, Lindsey needed to be fired,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “And we shouldn’t be listening to the label anyway. Not when it comes to our management. We need to hire someone local. Someone from Austin. Like Twin Souls.”
He rolled his eyes. A band didn’t hire Twin Souls. They hired you. The boutique management company had the three biggest bands in the country in their stable, so they could afford to be choosy.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I said. “We’re just as good as anyone on their roster.”
Appealing to Logan’s ego was the easiest way to get him out of his own head. Worked like a charm, too. Because he puffed out his chest and said, “Fuck yeah, we are.
Mission accomplished.
“I gotta go. We’ll talk more later.” Much later since I planned to have Lily under me for the next several hours. “Don’t worry about anything. It’ll all work out.”
He gave me a shove. “Get out of here. Go find your balls.”
“Right here, buddy.” I grabbed my crotch. “Look on the bright side. If I’m off the market, you might actually get some quality pussy.”
I made a break for it, ducking inside the front door before he could chase me down and make me eat my words. Keeping my head down, I avoided making eye contact with the staff as I traipsed across the lobby. A smile crept over my face when I saw the little bungalow. Home. Not quite. But with Lily there, that’s what it felt like.
“Hey, baby… I’m back!” I called as I pushed open the door. “I hope you’re naked.”
God, I really hoped she was naked. Or not. Stripping her down was almost as much fun. But she didn’t answer. And it was dark. And quiet. I flipped the light on and a small twinge worked its way from my chest to my throat. The room was pristine. Untouched. Like no one had been here all day.
“Lily?”
I paused at the bedroom door, panic spreading to my limbs. But I didn’t go in. Because if I didn’t go in, it wouldn’t be real. But I knew it was. Lily’s clothes, along with any trace of her, were gone. My shirt, the
one she wore to bed every night, was folded on the dresser.
Willing my feet to move, I peeked inside the bathroom, where not so much as a strand of her hair remained.
Stumbling backward when my knees went weak, I felt around for the edge of the bed. But I missed the mark and landed on the floor with a thud.
Wrestling my phone from my pocket with shaky hands, I dragged my finger across her number. Straight to voicemail. I tried again with the same result. And again. I finally gave up and typed out a text.
Baby, answer your phone. Please.
I didn’t care that I sounded desperate. Hell, I was desperate. I waited for a reply. Five minutes. Eight. Twenty.
Closing my eyes, I let the truth sink in. She was gone. Back to her life. The world where I didn’t quite fit. And then it came to me. I was never afraid of hurting Lily. All along, I was terrified that she’d see what I had to offer, and it wouldn’t be enough.
And in the end, I guess I was right.
* * *
My head was pounding.
Pounding. Pounding.
Jerking up, I ran my hand over my bare chest, my eyes adjusting to the single beam of light filtering through the blackout curtains.
“Open the fucking door!” Logan’s voice and more pounding.
Throwing back the comforter, I climbed to my feet.
“I’m coming!” Stumbling out of the bedroom, I rubbed my eyes. “Stop the fucking —” Yanking the door open, I reeled back, blinded by the harsh sunlight, “pounding.”
Logan glared at me. “I’ve been calling you for an hour.” Without waiting for an invitation, he shouldered his way in. “The limos going to be here in a half hour. Shit…what the hell happened?” He looked around at all the devastation before settling his gaze on me. “Where’s Lily?”