That was almost worse. My bandmates already worried about me too much. I didn’t need the same from Liam.
"Is everyone here?" I asked as I walked in.
"Just missing Gael," Seth said.
"He’s probably still in bed with Jessie,” Nathan smirked. "You took off early. Did you find some man-candy last night?"
My eyes flicked to Liam quickly without input from my brain. The look of concern in his eyes was replaced with a smug tilt of his chin, no doubt thinking that he was the man-candy Nathan was referring to.
"Let’s get started without Gael," I said. "We’ve got to get Liam caught up with our songs. We don’t have time to mess around."
"I agree," Liam said. "If we’re going to be ready in time, we’ll need to use every minute we have."
We had only just begun to set up our instruments when Gael breezed in, looking pleased with himself.
"Sorry I’m late," he said, sounding completely unrepentant. "Jessie and I—"
"Stop," I said. "I don’t need to hear what you and your girlfriend were getting up to this morning."
Gael faked an affronted look. "I would never," he said. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."
"Gentleman?" Nathan looked around the room with an exaggerated swing of his head back and forth. "I don’t see a gentleman around here."
Gael just laughed, slinging his bass guitar strap around his shoulder.
"Let’s start with one of the newer songs," I suggested.
The guys agreed. I shuffled through our folder of sheet music and handed the correct piece to Liam.
"Think you can play this on the fly?" I asked him.
"I’m insulted you would doubt my ability."
When we started playing, Liam was perfectly capable of keeping up with us. He was almost so good I had to wonder if he’d spent some time listening to our newer stuff. But he’d only auditioned less than a week ago. He wouldn’t have had enough time.
Liam really was just that good. As much as I thought I’d personally made a mistake in hiring him, I couldn’t deny that having this man in my band could only benefit us. We played through several songs without a hitch.
Maybe this would be easier than I thought. With Liam’s talent, I had no doubt that we would be ready for our tour on time.
After a few hours, we took a break. I left the rehearsal room to get a bottle of water from the vending machine down the hall. I was halfway there before I noticed Liam following me.
I turned around in the middle of the hallway to confront him.
"If you’re going to try and make me talk about last night…" I began to say.
Liam cut me off with a shake of his head. "If you don’t want to talk about last night, you don’t have to," he said. "I want to suggest an idea for the set list."
"What did you have in mind?" I asked "I've thought hard about our set list and carefully chosen each song."
"What if instead of starting with Kneel Before Us, we start with Nineteen?" he asked.
My shoulders immediately tensed. "We always start with Kneel Before Us."
Liam blinked at my strong reply.
"Any particular reason why?" he asked.
"It’s a fan favorite," I said. "It gets the crowd pumped up."
Liam nodded. "Exactly," he said. "Your fans love the song. It’s one of your earliest hits. That’s why I think it would be a great idea to end with that instead of starting with it. Leave them on a high note, you know?"
I pressed my lips together firmly. It wasn’t an awful suggestion, but something about Liam’s confident tone made me bristle.
"We end with Nineteen because it has that emotional impact," I said.
Liam looked at me skeptically. "Ending with that song is kind of a downer, isn’t it?" he said.
My eyes narrowed at his tone. Liam didn't know anything about that song. He didn't know anything about the meaning behind it, the significance of it.
"I think I know my fans better than you," I said.
"Maybe you’re just too close to it," Liam suggested. "There’s nothing wrong with an outside perspective."
A shivery coil of darkness slowly unfolded in my stomach. Of course I was close to the song. I'd composed it. I'd written it about—
I slammed shut the mental door keeping my memories at bay.
"Why don’t you leave the creative decisions to me?" I said. "I didn’t hire you for your input. I hired you to back me up on guitar. That’s it."
"Are you always this resistant to new ideas?" Liam asked.
"When it comes from people who don’t know anything about my band, yes." I crossed my arms over my chest.
I didn’t know why I was so against the idea of switching songs. There was just something about the way Liam had suggested it. As if he knew more than me.
Maybe he did.
Maybe I was too close to the situation.
But now that my hackles were raised, I wasn’t inclined to listen to him. I was being stubborn, and I knew it, but I couldn’t make myself stop. The idea that someone might know my songs better than me, that he might know my fans better than me, was infuriating. The fact that it came from Liam—someone that I already felt vulnerable around—made it worse.
"We need to get back to rehearsal," I said. "The others must be getting impatient."
"Alright," he said. "I’ll go back to being your silent backup guitarist. No more suggestions from me."
If it had been anyone else, I would have said the tone of his voice was sarcastic. Maybe that was just me projecting. I knew he thought I was being unreasonable.
Some part of me deep down agreed with him, but I’d already let my guard down around this man too many times. If I started giving in to him, even if it was just a song selection idea, I might start to give in in other ways.
I turned on my heel and as I walked back to the rehearsal room.
I felt Liam’s eyes on me the entire way.
9
I had already made it back to the studio when I realized I'd never gotten a bottle of water. With Liam at my back, it was too embarrassing to turn around and backtrack. I'd just have to wait until our next break.
When I made it back to the music room I found Gael and Nathan huddled together, staring down at their phones with frowns on their faces.
"Bad news?" I asked, dread filling my chest.
Gael's head shot up, slightly panicked look in his eyes. "No," he lied.
I immediately pulled out my phone and checked my messages.
"Oh shit," I murmured, staring down at the newest email from the label's marketing department. All thoughts of Liam fled.
Nathan and Gael looked at me cautiously, as if waiting for an outburst. My heart sunk as I scrolled past the latest comments on a local music blog's latest post.
A cold nudge against my fingers startled me. Liam placed a bottle of water in my hand.
"Don't want to strain your voice," he said with an imperceptible smile.
I took it from him gingerly with a muttered thanks before looking back at my phone.
"What is it?" Liam asked, noticing the tension in the room.
"It's just a bad review," my brother said. "Not the end of the world."
But it wasn't the review that had bile rising in my throat.
"They're trashing us in the comments," I told Liam. "Someone's saying our last performance was one of the worst they'd ever seen. That I—" I cut myself off, nausea taking root in my gut. I felt sick, queasy — and above all, angry.
"Cerise?" Liam prompted when I failed to speak. "What's wrong?"
I swallowed around the lump in my throat. I didn't even want to say it out loud. I turned my phone around and showed it to him.
Liam winced.
"Shit," he cursed. "You shouldn't read things like this. Don't listen to those kinds of people."
The commenter on the blog post had written that the only reason Cherry Lips got a record contract must have been because I'd—
And at this part, the ange
r in my chest turned into pure rage.
—because I'd fucked one of the music execs.
"Why would somebody say something like that?" I paced back and forth furiously. "Why would somebody write that for everyone else to see? It's horrible and disgusting and—" The more I continued speaking, the faster and faster the words tumbled from my mouth. "No one would accuse any of you guys of sleeping your way to the top,” I spat. “It's revolting sexist bullshit and—"
"Cerise." Liam placed a hand on my shoulder. I cut off my rambling with a snap of my jaw. His hand was soothing as it ran up and down my arm. It was similar to our first meeting, when he had touched me in the artist lounge. This time there was nothing sensual about the motion. It was meant purely for comfort.
My heartbeat began to slow with every stroke of his palm.
"Ignore those people," Liam told me. "They're just internet trolls. They're jealous of your success. If they could do what you do, they'd be the ones up on stage and not the ones leaving shitty comments on some stupid blog. Don't pay attention to them."
"But—"
"I understand wanting to know what people are saying about you, but it's only going to act as a distraction," he said.
A distraction.
Liam was right. It was a distraction.
And maybe it was a bad distraction, getting in the way of my work.
But maybe, angsting about other people were saying was better than angsting over all the shit I'd been trying to suppress. It was easier. If I kept all my focus outward, I didn't have to deal with the creeping darkness threatening to overtake me at the very thought of Har—
"I want you to promise me something," Liam said, interrupting my thoughts.
The warmth of his touch helped calm me. Some of the anxiety that manifested itself as tightness in my chest slowly began to ease.
"Promise you what?" I asked.
"Don't go on the Internet for the next few weeks," Liam said.
I let out a choked snort. "What century are you living in?" I asked him.
"I'm not saying cut yourself off completely, but the only thing you should be worrying about is this tour. If you want us to be ready in time, you need to focus on what's important… like me," he said with a cheeky grin.
"You think you're the most important thing I should be paying attention to? You really do have an overactive ego."
I knew Liam was just trying to distract me and keep the rumor off of my mind. As annoyed and upset as I had been with him before, and as much as I had pushed him away, I had to be grateful that he had found a way to calm me down. My tensed muscles had begun to wind down, and my nails were no longer biting into my skin.
"Thanks," I murmured quietly.
Liam gave me one last pat on my back before standing.
"Why don't we continue practice?" Liam said.
"Sounds good to me," Nathan said. He was eyeing Liam and I curiously.
I hated that I'd gotten so upset, but it was almost worse that the guys had watched Liam soothe me like an upset child. I'd been so resolved to keep it together around him, especially when we were in front of the others. At least I could reassure myself that I hadn't been swooning over Liam like some fourteen-year-old girl. It was a small favor, but I would take it. The last thing I needed was for my band members to know I had this stupid, silly crush on my new guitarist.
I'd worked so hard to prove myself in the music industry. Being a girl in a rock band was never going to be easy. I had to show I could hack it. I had to be a professional. I didn't want to risk losing all of the respect I'd built up.
Liam slung his guitar strap over his shoulder and nodded his head to me.
"You ready to start?" he asked.
I stood up from the sofa and grabbed my microphone.
"I'm ready," I said. "I'm not going to let stuff like this keep on bothering me."
Even if that wasn't quite true, at least I could pretend.
I didn't know if I'd be able to keep myself from reading trashy blog rumors, but the memory of Liam’s palm on my bare skin — the memory of his hands, of his fingers, entwined with mine — made me want to keep my promise.
10
Five o'clock rolled around and we put our instruments away for the day.
"I might stay a while longer to try and catch up," Liam said. "If that's cool with you guys."
The others looked impressed at his dedication. I was impressed, too, until I gathered my stuff and started to follow the others out the door. That's when Liam reached out and took my arm gently in his hand.
"Would you mind staying a bit longer to help me out?" he asked.
My suspicions immediately arose. This could have been just another one of his excuses to get me alone.
"I'm having a little trouble with the second chorus on that one song," he said.
I knew which one he meant, because I'd noticed him struggling a bit during rehearsal.
"Sure," I said. "I can stay a little while longer."
True to his word, we did work on the song for the next half hour or so.
I showed him the correct positioning I used on the strings with my fingers. He was a quick learner, just as he'd said. As soon as I showed him how I played the song, he imitated me and picked it up within minutes. Once we'd practiced a handful of times, he seemed satisfied with himself.
"That was the only one I really had trouble with," Liam said. "Thanks for staying."
"No problem," I told him. "If that's all…" I said as I got ready to leave.
"There’s just one more thing," Liam said. "Can we talk about what happened earlier?"
I didn’t bother playing dumb. "Thank you for helping calm me down."
The memory of that rumor about me sleeping my way to the top…
Just thinking about it made the fury rise in my chest.
"Trust me, I understand how shitty those rumors can be," he said.
"I doubt the things people said about you could be any worse than the things they say about me," I told Liam. "Do you know how hard it is to be a girl in the rock music industry? Do you know the awful things they say about me?"
"I can guess," he said. "I'm not trying to compare or one up you about who had it worse. I'm just saying I get it."
I had to wonder what exactly people had been saying about Liam's old band.
"Do you mind if I ask—" I began hesitantly. "They said shit about you, too?"
Liam shifted his gaze away. He stared out the window, avoiding my eyes.
"They said we'd stolen songs from another band. They said we were all fighting and secretly hated each other. They said we were a fake band put together by our label. They said my guitarist stole my fiancée."
I let out a sharp exhale. "Did he really… ?"
He gave me a crooked smile. "I never had a fiancée."
His voice was tight as he denied it. I had to wonder how close to the truth some of those rumors were.
I didn't want to pry. At least the media had yet to find out about my past or about Harper. That would have been another one for the rumor mill for sure.
Everyone always tried to read angst and pain into my lyrics. Writing songs was cathartic but I didn't need anyone knowing the sordid details behind them. I would have felt too exposed, as if people had access to my inner most secrets.
I was willing to write my feelings out through the music, but I wasn't about to let anyone get closer than that.
Especially Liam Knight.
"I'll try to ignore those rumors," I promised him.
The look in his eyes was soft. Understanding. He placed his hand on my shoulder. His thumb rubbed back and forth along the curve of my neck. My insides tumbled over on themselves.
"If you ever need a distraction…" Liam said with a smirk.
My stomach muscles tensed at that look. I knew exactly what kind of distraction Liam was hinting at. The heat of his palm burned into my skin, warming me from the outside in. A shivery feeling took hold of me.
His bright green e
yes stared into mine, a question in his gaze. I parted my lips to speak, not quite sure what I was going to say yet, just knowing that I had to say something or else I would end up giving in to him.
Now that I wasn't so defensive, now that my guard was down, I could see that his song selection idea wasn't that bad of an idea. I shouldn't have shot him down so quickly. I had just been feeling vulnerable.
Too vulnerable.
Exactly like I was feeling right now.
"I don't think that's the kind of distraction I need." I quickly gathered my things and headed to the door, making a hasty exit. "I'll see you at practice tomorrow," I said. As I walked out the door, I turned my head just enough to see the amused look on Liam's face.
I was running again. He knew it. I knew it.
But I couldn't stop my feet from fleeing.
11
"How did you score this interview again?" Nathan asked Gael.
"I know a guy who knows a guy," my brother replied.
Nathan smacked him in the chest. Gael made an oomph sound.
"No, seriously," Gael said. "Cerise's friend Morris? His bandmate is dating some girl who writes for a magazine. She's offered to interview us before, so I figured now would be a great time to reach out."
The group of us were hanging out in the music studio, waiting for the journalist. We'd tried to rehearse while we waited, but most of us had been too nervous to concentrate.
Well, that wasn't quite true. The others didn't seem fazed at all. I was the one full of nervous energy, jiggling my crossed legs as I sat on the sofa and tapping my nails against the cushions in a staccato rhythm.
This wasn't our first interview, but it was the first since we'd signed on to our label. Small-time music blogs doing a Q and A with some local band after a show was one thing. This was another. This was legit. We were going to talk to an actual journalist who wrote for a real magazine.
"What if she brings up that trash talk?" I spoke up. "That stuff about—" I grimaced, "—about me sleeping my way to the top?"
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