by Claire Adams
“That we have, bro,” he answered as the waitress deposited our drinks onto the table. Talon picked his up and saluted it my way. “To good times.”
I picked mine up and clinked glasses with him. “Agreed.”
“This tour has been better than I imagined,” he said, “and it's been so good for all of us. Me especially, you know? This band means so much to me. I just wanted to say thank you again for keeping your promise and getting this whole thing going again.”
“No problem, little brother. It's been good for me, too.”
We each took a sip and then settled back in our chairs, the sound of the ocean filling the silence between us. Five days of rest lay ahead, and I had no idea what to do with the time. Our lives had been so hectic over the last month or so, and now that I had down time, all I wanted to do was to go back out there and just start it over again. I wanted something to keep me occupied.
My only solace since Nalia had cut off any contact with me had been found in playing shows. I needed to rehearse, to sing, to write new music...anything that would keep my mind off of her and the future I kept thinking about with her. The future that wasn’t going to happen.
“Ya know, I’ve been thinking,” Talon said. “I think I’d like to have a few kids.”
“What?” I asked, turning my attention back to my brother. “Did I just hear you right?” I asked, shocked.
“I didn’t stutter.”
“Don’t you have to get married and all that shit first to be thinking about kids? Besides, you're the absolute last person I had ever expected to hear utter those words.”
Talon laughed. “I’m not gonna run out and drop little Talon bombs everywhere. But I have been thinking about it a little lately. Ya know, wondering what it would be like to have someone to come home to. As much as I love the attention we get from all the women on the road, it does get a bit old after a while. I can't help thinking about what it might be like to have something more...you know...lasting. Permanent.”
I thought about what my brother said, and once again Nalia overtook my mind. I had to force myself not to think about what it would be like to come home to her, to have kids with her. But that just wasn’t meant to be. The facts were clear: she was gone and I was sitting beside the ocean with Talon, not her.
“I want the same thing,” I admitted. “Actually, it would be pretty amazing to have that, the more I think about it. Just not so sure it’s in the cards for me.”
Touring was a blast, and so were all the perks that went along with it, but once the fans went home and the bright lights were shut off, there was nothing left but a lonely hotel room. I had filled mine with a woman I thought would stick around for those times, but apparently, I had been wrong.
I guess I couldn't blame her; we had agreed on certain things beforehand, just so that neither of us would wind up getting hurt. But I guess that hadn't been enough, because here we were. Or rather, here I was. Hurting like hell.
“Dude, what’s with the weird look?” Talon asked.
“Nothing, man, nothing. Don't worry about it.”
He laughed. “Yeah, let me guess. I bet it has to do with Nalia, doesn’t it?”
I exhaled sharply. “I just don’t understand. I thought she was, hell, I guess... I guess I thought she was the one.”
“Whoa, wait a minute. Are you serious? I knew you cared about her, but I didn’t know you were in that deep.”
I sighed, shook my head and looked out over the ocean. “She just left. Left me high and dry without an explanation.”
He swore. “I don’t know what happened with you two, but, dude, that’s fucking cold.”
“I know. And now, after everything, I don’t think she even cared about me in the first place.”
Talon burst into laughter. “Yeah, right. You’re as blind as she is. That girl loves you, man. How could you not see that?”
Narrowing my eyes, I looked at my brother. “What did you say?”
“She loves you. Trust me, dude, she is head over heels in love with you and was completely devastated when those girls were crawling all over you. That girl, she would have done anything for you.”
I grimaced. She loved me? Then why the hell had she left? Those girls, they meant nothing. Being a rock star and having girls crawling all over me was part of the gig. I had told her that, I had explained it. Just because they were coming on to me all the time didn’t mean I wanted them.
Our waitress arrived and set our food on the table, but I just looked at it, no longer ravenous like I had been when we arrived for breakfast. In fact, my appetite seemed to have disappeared altogether.
Talon leaned forward and stared at me over his omelet. “Dude, just go get her.”
“What if she doesn’t want me anymore?”
“Seriously? Dude, come on! Are you a pussy? Or are you my brother, the legendary Owen Young?”
“Fuck it, I’m going after her,” I announced, looking at my watch. I could catch a flight out before noon and have a few days to coax her to come back again before the second leg of the tour would kick back up. I just needed her to at least listen to me, no matter what I had to do. I would put on a hell of a show to get her to do just that if I had to.
“So, what’s the plan? How are you gonna make this happen, bro?”
I thought about it and a smile spread across my face. “The check. She’s coming to get the check. It’s still five in the morning there. I need to catch a flight out of here.” I had sent my secretary an email to drop a pretty significant amount in the form of a bonus to Nalia, knowing she could use the money. But now, that check would turn out to be my saving grace.
“I have a plan, Talon. I have a plan.”
He grinned. “Well, what are you waiting for, bro? Go get her!”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Nalia
I pulled up to the recording studio and put the car in park, fighting back the anxiety, apprehension, and sense of hesitation that seemed to be infecting every cell of my body like a virus. I knew Owen was on the other side of the country currently, sunning it up in Florida, but I still had a funny feeling in my chest. I couldn't explain it because there was absolutely no reason to be nervous, but for some unexplainable reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling.
“Are you going to stare at the building all day or actually go inside? Come on, sis. It's not a fire-breathing dragon, it's just a lump of concrete and steel, and it happens to have a chunk of change waiting inside for you.”
I glared over at my brother before offering him a close-up view of my middle finger and a snarky frown.
“Give me a break, all right?” I said.
Jackson held up his hands mockingly, a cheeky grin plastered across his face. I loved my brother, but sometimes he could really irritate me, and often, he seemed to have no clue about when humor was appropriate and when it wasn't.
Jackson wasn’t my first choice as backup. Grace had an early studio call, so she hadn't been able to come with me. Call me chicken, but for some reason, I didn’t want to show up at the place all alone. Just the thought of it sent butterflies flapping their wings like crazy through my stomach.
So, I had called up Jackson, taken him out to brunch as a bribe and then talked him into riding with me so that I would be able to actually go inside of the studio when I got there instead of sitting in the parking lot for an hour trying to talk myself into it. As Grace had reminded me, I needed to pick up my bonus check. Or, rather, my pay-off. I felt a bitter sting of resentment biting at my insides as I thought about it.
“What’s wrong, Nay?”
I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. “I don’t know. You remember when we used to sneak into the music room at the orphanage, and I would just stare at the piano, wanting to play but not brave enough to risk making a noise?”
“I do. I also remember the way you used to touch the keys, as if they were made of glass,” he added, a faraway look in his eyes. “I knew then that you were going to be something special.
None of the other kids could ever hold a candle to what you were able to do on that piano.”
Tears threatened to fill my eyes as I continued to stare at the building. “I had such high hopes of making it in this business. I only wanted people to hear my music, you know? Is that so wrong?” I glanced over at my brother, remembering our childhood and the dreams I held that had started back then.
Pangs of regret and sorrow began working their way through my body like an invasive parasite. I had come so close to getting a foot in the door of the industry I had dreamt of for so long, but now it looked as if that would never happen. My hopes and dreams lay in tatters and ruins.
He reached over and touched my arm. “Of course not, Nalia. You're meant to be a star, and you will make it in this business. I promise you that. You just have to believe in yourself. You're so talented, and you work so hard at it; it's just a matter of time before the right person notices you. Don't give up now.”
I looked at him, giving him a soft smile. “You should have been a motivational speaker. Or maybe a therapist.”
“Well, if I was,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “I would have told you to stay far away from that d-bag rocker. Oh wait...I did tell you that. Hmm. You, however, chose not to listen. This would be where I give you the dreaded I told you so speech. But, he already broke your heart, so I’ll spare you. This time.”
My heart ached at the mention of Owen, and all the feelings of what he meant to me came rushing back. Sitting there, staring at the studio I dreaded entering, I found myself wishing things would have worked out between us just so I could prove everyone who had doubted us wrong. But, in the end, it seemed they had all been right.
Grace’s words, however, continued to haunt me. What if I had been wrong? What if I had jumped to conclusions and never gave him a chance to explain? What if Owen hadn’t been the ass I assumed he was, and, instead, was actually the exception to the rule?
“Hey. Earth to Nalia,” Jackson broke me from my trance. “How about you go get that check so we can get the hell out of here,” he suggested, his voice jolting me from my inner thoughts and self-questioning.
I nodded, pulled in a deep breath to steady myself, and opened the car door. Seconds later, I walked into the building and took the elevator up to the floor where the studios were. When the elevator doors opened, the place was eerily quiet. The lights were off, but there was still a good deal of light entering through the windows, so it wasn’t dark, but it did feel a bit like a ghost town.
The secretary wasn’t at the front desk, so I stood there for a moment, looking around and trying to decide what to do. That’s when a familiar sound floated through the air—music. It faintly sounded like a piano playing.
I took one more look around before following the sound, realizing with a start that it was my song playing. This was my song! What the hell was going on?
Turning the corner, I peered down the hall and noticed a light on in a room ahead. Naturally, I walked toward it, hoping that someone could explain how my music was playing in the studio. If someone had recorded me unknowingly, I would fight tooth and nail to get it back. Nobody was going to be ripping off my songs. Nobody. That was my music, my talent, and I’d be damned if I was going to let anyone steal it.
I stepped in front of the doorway and gasped at the sight of rose petals scattered on the floor. The equipment in the studio had been pushed back to allow for dozens and dozens of candles to be lit along the wall, the light giving the room a soft, romantic glow. Wave after wave of surprise and wonder crashed over me.
I suddenly felt as though I should turn and leave. It seemed I had just stumbled into a proposal in the making. But, my curiosity moved me forward into the next room. I stopped and turned around in a slow circle.
Some lucky fool was going to enjoy this, even cry over the romantic gesture. Why couldn’t I be lucky like that? I hoped that they understood how precious this was and how amazing they should feel that someone cared for them enough to go all out in such a way. Still though, the thought that someone had stolen my music to do this kept the anger flickering like a fire inside me.
“Hello, Nalia.”
I spun around at the sound of the familiar voice. He stood at the door, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest, dressed casually in a polo shirt and khaki shorts, with his typical converse standing out in bright red. There was no denying the man was gorgeous. And at the moment, he looked tanned, rested, and totally unlike the hot mess that I had felt like lately.
“O-Owen,” I managed to stammer. “What on earth are you doing here? Why aren’t you in Florida?”
He pushed off the jamb and walked into the room. “Well, I was, but there was something I had to take care of on this side of the country.”
I swallowed hard, anticipation building. “What was that?”
He smirked and dropped his arms. “You know, you’re insanely talented, Nalia.”
“I, um, thank you,” I said honestly, glad that someone like him thought I had talent. “That means a lot.”
“It’s not flattery—it's the truth. There’s only one problem, though.”
“A problem? What might that be?”
He smiled. “You need a chance. Everyone deserves a shot at making their dreams a reality, and I want to give you that shot. Please, Nalia, let me help you grow your talent and spread it all across the country and beyond. I just want this chance to help you make your dream come true.”
I stared at him, unable to believe what was happening. He wanted to help me become famous? That in and of itself was a dream come true. “I-I don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand? I want to help you, Nalia,” he stated. “And all I ask for in return is that you come back on tour and help me finish it. Come to Florida with me and see this thing through. I swear, I won’t ask for anything else, and then when we're done, we can start on your album. I'll cover all the costs, of course, and give you a very handsome signing sum if you'll allow me to have the honor of adding you to the list of artists signed to my label.”
My heart hammered wildly in my chest, and I thought about the possibilities he was offering me: a recording contract, a chance to do what I loved best in the world, and a chance to live out my dreams. It was too much.
“I will even offer my vocals, if you think any tracks would benefit from them,” Owen continued, the tone in his voice becoming eager. Like he felt he needed to do or say more to convince me.
That’s when it all clicked—the roses, the candles, the bonus. This was about more than Owen offering to sign me to his record label. I knew that I should stop him, that I should tell him I was excited about the opportunity, but knowing he had done all of this just to get to talk to me, for him to need me so badly was a feeling I couldn’t describe, so I drew it out a little longer. Just the thought of what could happen had my head spinning.
“Please say yes, Nalia,” he said softly.
I walked slowly across the room, closing the gap between us and trying hard not to cry. This man was giving me a chance to live my dreams, something that, just a few minutes earlier, I had thought would never happen in my lifetime. And he was looking at me like I meant something to him. More than just a recording contract. More than just an assistant on his tour.
He was looking at me with something in his eyes I recognized. Desire. How could I say anything but yes? So, I did.
“Yes,” I said, sticking out my hand. He grabbed it and pulled me close to him, our bodies suddenly pressed against each other, unleashing a whirlwind of emotions as a result. It was going to be a difficult time on the road, I just knew it, but at that second, all I could do was lose myself in the moment.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Six Weeks Later
Owen
I faked air guitar as Jeremiah strummed the last bit of the song, the crowd going insane. After months on the road, I was kind of glad to see the tour draw to a close. We’d had a fantastic run, and now it was time to
go home.
No more touring, no more late nights, and no more of the hassles and frustration that being on the road brought with it. We were going to take a break after tonight, perhaps a long break.
It had definitely been a wild ride, and I was beyond happy that we'd done it and pulled it off so smoothly. We were back on top, and we were all over the press and the internet. To top it off, album sales had shot up as a result. People really loved our new music, too, it seemed, even though it was a bit different from the old stuff they were used to.
For our final song, it was time for something really different.
“Thank you, Chicago!” I shouted out. “We have one more song for you tonight, and it’s a special one. But first, I need a very special person to sing it to.”
The crowd went wild with women and girls alike jumping up and down for me to pick them. Not that their enthusiasm mattered. I already had a woman in mind, the one woman who had toughed it out and gone back on the road with us.
True to my word, I had allowed her to do her job, sitting back and watching her work her magic for the last two months. During our downtime on the bus and free hours in the hotels, she and I had worked closely together on writing some new material for her album.
Despite the fact that over the past two months we had stuck to our agreement to keep things strictly professional between us, I had never felt so strongly about any woman as I had about her. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I wanted her in my life. Nalia was my other half. She just didn’t know it yet. She had turned out to be the kind of woman who I thought couldn't exist outside of the realm of dreams—except she did exist. She was real.
In spite of what was probably expected of me, I hadn’t fallen for some wild child, rock groupie. I had fallen in love with the girl next door, the girl that had me thinking about settling down, getting married, and raising a family. I had come to understand why rockers left the music scene to have another life outside of the craziness. While the fame was kickass, and the excitement and adrenaline were addictive, I had grown to prefer spending a quiet night with Nalia, going over scales for one of her beautiful songs, instead of partying or making appearances to maintain my rocker persona.