by Virna DePaul
I guess he’s over her.
Whoa. I had no idea people loved that song so much. A huge problem was, we were playing it or not playing it on a whim, whenever I felt like it. And while I may have felt inspired to write the music, once it was out there, it didn’t belong to me anymore. It belonged to them—our fans. And as a front man, it was my responsibility to give them what they wanted.
Another thought occurred to me. IF Abby checked up on us, if she read social media comments, if she read reviews and saw that I hadn’t played Abby Shines last night, she might think, like the fans, that I was over her.
I had to bring it back. I had to keep playing it as long as it took to bring her home.
To me.
“I always wanted a good woman,” I mumbled, a line from the song.
“What?” Tucker tried following my gaze. “You said something?”
I gripped him by the shoulders. “We’re adding Abby Shines back to the set list. And when we’re done with the tour, it’s going on the next album.” I hugged him and Corbin, feeling excited for the first time in days. “Tell Wes when you see him.”
*
It was our last night in Philly before one day of rest and then NYC’s Madison Square Garden. I was sure Abby wouldn’t be there, but maybe, if I thought about her hard enough, she’d hear me all the way in Brooklyn. Maybe she’d be at Carnegie Hall or wherever her beloved NY Philharmonic played, and she’d hear me in her soul, press her hand to her heart, and come back to me.
Stupid, I knew, but hey, as long as it helped me sing her song right.
We went through the first eight songs of the night, playing to a crowd buzzing and burning with zeal. They shouted their love to us. They threw flowers, drawings, and all sorts of crazy shit at us. One woman threw her vibrator, and security promptly escorted her out. I kicked it off the stage, way into the audience, though, in retrospect, I should have just let it roll off the stage into the pit.
It was time for Abby Shines. I gave the guys a nod as the stage turned dark. Wes came out, sitting on a stool with his acoustic guitar. My heart pounded inside of my rib cage. I knew the crowd was going to roar, so I sang one long note at a time, let them get their cheers and whistles out of the way, then I came in with the first lines.
As I sang, I closed my eyes and thought of nothing but Abby—I remembered her at the party in LA, across the pool holding her purse, looking scared and excited and nervous all at the same time. I imagined her in the garden when she took me by surprise with her kiss. I thought of her in Seattle, caught in the rain, inside the house, playing her cello, full of sweat and desire. I thought of her in her elite New York studio, and I thought of her in a dress in front of a minister holding hands with me on a warm spring day.
I didn’t realize I was crying during the last words until Wes tapped me on the shoulder and cheers brought me back to life after the few minutes I’d disappeared. Because I hadn’t been there on the stage, in the moment like I usually was. I’d been with her again, and if this song was the only way I could ever be with her again, I’d sing it every night.
When the backlights gradually came on, and the first notes of Save Me Tonight rang throughout the venue, I saw the ocean of hands swaying back and forth. The fans sang with me, they held my hands, they rocked with me, and they cried with me. I was never alone. Our fans had been following my sadness all along. It’d be hard to hear the instrumental bridge again with Mr. Shitty Cello taking her solo, but suddenly— The vibrant tenor tones of a different cello rang out, and even without a spotlight on the cellist, I knew right away this wasn’t the same understudy. It wasn’t a new one either. Turning to gaze into the darkness, I spotted her slender frame, swaying body, felt the passion in her deep strokes, saw her wide, gorgeous smile in my mind’s eye without having to look at her at all.
The stadium went wild. Wilder than they would have for me or Corbin or Tuck or Wes or all of us put together. They cheered for Abby Chan. They knew her well, and they welcomed her home. And when the light finally grew and spotlighted her, she was more than herself. She was elevated, a goddess in flowing yellow, gracing our stage. I smiled at her, my tired eyes spilling over, singing the last verse along with her like we had in weeks before, only better.
Abby played the song. She was the song.
And together, we rocked it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Abby
When Liam Collier—the Liam Collier—hands you the key to your new apartment off Riverside Boulevard on your way to your first live audition for the NY Philharmonic, you don’t question his sanity. Not when you’re so crazy in love with him and you can’t imagine that ever changing.
What you do is, you wave at the doorman, ring your arm through your boyfriend’s arm, smile as he escorts you out on a blustery autumn walk through New York’s Upper West Side, and count your blessings.
That’s what I did, anyway.
At the end of the North American leg of the Feel the Burn tour, the band returned to LA to rest awhile before deciding on revised dates for the rest of the world tour. Insisting he needed to spend some time with me, Liam had put the band’s tour on hold. He returned home for less than a week to record a few tracks for his friend Garrick Maze’s TV show, Straitlaced (yes, the Garrick Maze), and tie up some loose ends before flying here to NYC to pay the rent on the first few months of my apartment. He would have flat-out bought it, or flat-out paid an entire year if I’d let him, but I didn’t want him to. It was my place, and I needed to pay for it myself. Still, a booster first six months wouldn’t hurt. He was spending those months with me, making sure I was settled in, happy, fed, bedded, and generally well-taken care of. When he wasn’t doing those things, he was writing songs, visiting The Tonight Show, The View, Good Morning America, and taking walks with me through Central Park.
Liam loved New York, being with me, putting on a big show for me and my mom with all the flowers he bought, groceries he fetched, cooking he did, and even neighbors’ dogs he walked, just for fun. The best, though, was when he popped open that pricey bottle of wine for us—the one he’d gifted me back in LA. I’d saved it for a special occasion. Well, this was it—the eve of my audition.
What more could a girl ask for?
When we turned left at West 66th Street on our way to Lincoln Center, it all hit me at once—the pure blessed luckiness of it. I stopped on the sidewalk to take it all in. Liam stopped, too, looking over my cello case perched on his shoulder. “What happened?”
I stared ahead, unblinking. “You gave up your dream to give me mine.”
He blinked a few times, then smiled and slowly shook his head. “Abby, we’ve been over this. Not really. I’ve reached some of my career goals, yeah, but there’s always gonna be new ones. Life is forever changing. For now, my goal is making sure you reach yours. After that, we can figure out a way for our careers to work together, okay? Now, let’s walk. This thing weighs a crap-ton.” He held out his hand for me to take.
“Lightweight.” I slipped my hand into his warm one.
“Oh, lightweight, huh? We’ll see about that. See who gives up first in bed tonight.”
“Won’t be me. You’re going down.”
“I’m going down all right.” He winked at me.
“In flames maybe.”
He chuckled. “Promises, promises.”
This just didn’t happen to anyone. I was acutely aware of that. It wasn’t every day that a girl like me found a man who was not only sexy and sweet, but also talented and understood just how much my music meant to me. A man who made me practice Serenade every night until bedtime and every morning before breakfast. A man who made my coffee for me, tucked me in bed, and put me first above everything else.
No, chances like this were few and far between. I’d already achieved something my mom never got to have, whether or not I ever made Principal Cello. I’d captured the love and dedication of a wonderful man. Ma was thrilled beyond words.
Now I had to capture the love a
nd dedication of the Philharmonic’s Audition Committee.
“You’ve got this.” Liam led me up the steps of Avery Fisher Hall and handed me my cello. He kissed my cheek, patting me lightly on the butt. “Go easy on them, Ab.” He smiled that awesome, wide grin of his.
I captured the moment for my mental scrapbook. “I love you,” I told him.
“I love you more.”
Inside the hall, I followed signs along the tall, palatial windows to the stage door where auditions were taking place. The moment I walked in, I spotted Ibis Mandolin, Peter Curtis Bennett, and Victor Cho, whose online and program bios I’d read a thousand times. They were sitting at a long table in the orchestra pit. A single chair sat onstage with a music stand. I took the music stand and set it aside. I wouldn’t be using it. The piece was perfectly memorized in my head.
“Good morning.” Ibis smiled her elegant, older-woman smile.
“Good morning, Mrs. Mandolin.” I returned her smile with my own, confident one. “My name is Abigail Chan, and I am auditioning today for the part of cello.” My nerves rose into my throat, but I swallowed to make them go away.
Deep breaths, Abby. Deep breaths.
“Wonderful, Miss Chan,” Peter Curtis Bennett said with a nod. “Your résumé and transcripts are quite impressive. A Juilliard graduate student…master of music.” He slid my papers over to Victor Cho, who took one quick glance and apparently saw all he needed to see, judging from his approving nod. “I understand you also played on tour this summer?”
“Yes, as solo cellist with the rock band Point Break.”
All three gave easy, impressed smiles. “Wonderful. We’re delighted to have you here,” Victor Cho said. “What will you be playing for us today?”
“A composition of my own entitled Serenade. I hope you enjoy it.” I bowed.
I set up, positioned my cello, reviewed five seconds of the intro in my head, then took a long, cleansing breath. Whatever happened here today, I had already won. I had my whole life ahead of me to make this dream come true, and it already seemed like they liked me.
Here goes nothing…
I pressed the bow across the strings and pulled out the first note, a burst of rosin cloud rising into the air. As the first measures of the opening allegro melody echoed throughout the hall, I closed my eyes and imagined my first audience already there, my mom in the middle, Liam at her side.
His voice rang in my head. It’s in the bag, love.
And indeed it was.
—The End—
Thank you for reading Say It Strong.
If you enjoyed spending time with these characters, be sure to check out Tuck’s story in Say It Slow, Book Three in the Say You Love Me Series.
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BOOKS BY VIRNA DEPAUL
SAY YOU LOVE ME SERIES
Book 1: Say It Sexy (Garrick) Book 2: Say It Strong (Liam) Coming next:
Book 3: Say It Slow (Tucker) Book 4: Say It Sweet (Shane) Book 5: Say It Sultry (Corbin) Book 6: Say It Soft (Tyler) Book 7: Say It Smooth (Wes) *Titles and order are subject to change
THE BEDDING THE BACHELORS SERIES (Book blurbs below) Book 1: Bedding The Wrong Brother (Rhys) Book 2: Bedding The Bad Boy (Max) Book 3: Bedding The Billionaire (Jamie) Book 4: Bedding The Best Friend (Ryan) Book 5: Bedding The Biker Next Door (Cole) Coming next:
Book 6: Bedding The Bodyguard (Luke) Book 7: Bedding The Best Man (Gabe) Book 8: Bedding The Boss (Eric)
SAY YOU LOVE ME SERIES
Say It Sexy
(Say You Love Me Book 1)
Book 1 in the Say You Love Me series, starring a group of male friends--hot young Hollywood heroes and hard-partying rock band bad boys--each on the verge of meeting the girl of his dreams.
This life I'm relishing--the women, booze, and parties--won't last forever. But while it does, I'll take it all in with no regrets. Pleasure stands paramount. When I party, I forget all the trash that's happened in the past. It's the same when I'm acting, when I become someone else, someone not afraid to feel or make others feel. It's what I live for: The next party. The next role. The next girl.
That's my life. That's the way I want it to be.
Except now I've met Gwen...
Garrick Maze, young Hollywood's hottest bad boy, just landed the male lead in a new network television series. Known for indulging in wild parties, casual hook-ups, and fast cars, he spends his days on set and his nights on the town. Love's the last thing on his mind, especially when it comes to his ice queen female lead.
Gwendolyn Vickers intends to be America's next celebrity sweetheart and that means keeping her public image pristine. The last thing she needs is to be linked to trouble-making heartthrob Garrick Maze. But he's shamelessly flirty and sexy as sin. Her body craves him. Soon, so does her heart.
When secrets from the past clash with the bright lights of fame, Gwen realizes there's more to Garrick than washboard abs and sex appeal. He'll prove that when it comes to mixing mind-blowing pleasure with true love, he's not about to let her down.
New Adult Contemporary Romance with a HEA **First of a series, but each book will be a standalone**
THE BEDDING THE BACHELOR SERIES
Bedding The Wrong Brother
(Bedding the Bachelors Book 1)
Determined to find her inner sex diva, Melina Parker enlists her childhood friend, Max Dalton, to tutor her after hours. Instead, she ends up in the wrong bed and gets a lesson in passion from Max’s twin brother, Rhys Dalton, a man Melina’s always secretly wanted but never thought she could have.
This #1 Bestselling Contemporary Romance is rated HHH ("Heat, Heart & HEA") and involves a bed mix-up, hot identical twins, sex lessons, naughty word games, light restraint, a shy sex bomb who's afraid she's boring and a playboy hero determined to prove she's got everything he'll ever need.
Bedding The Bad Boy
(Bedding the Bachelors Book 2)
This bad boy is ready to work some magic...
Identical twin and Las Vegas performer Max Dalton has always been the number one bad boy in his family, and he's appreciated the women and fame that comes along with his reputation.
Grace Sinclair is on a mission when she comes to Vegas, one that involves asking Max, her best friend's brother-in-law, to give her the pleasure no man's ever been able to. She suspects Max has more layers than he lets people see, but she's determined to keep her heart safe even as she offers him her body.
What neither of them plan on is love--or the triangle the media stirs up with Max's blonde bombshell actress friend.
Will Grace see beyond Max's bad boy façade long enough to trust him with her heart? And will Max figure out what he really wants before he loses the one woman who makes him believe in love again?
Bedding The Billionaire
(Bedding the Bachelors Book 3)
Free-spirited Lucy Conrad enjoys her friends but keeps others at a distance, especially her affluent and judgmental family...and the billionaire she once dated, Jamie Whitcomb. Despite their explosive chemistry, experience has proven she'll never fit into his world.
Charismatic Jamie enjoys work, women, and wealth. When duty demands he take over running the family business, he jumps in full-throttle; his only regret is Lucy's refusal to take the ride with him.
Then tragedy strikes and Lucy realizes that in order to gain custody of her orphaned niece, she must prove she can fit back into the high-society world she once rejected. The solution? Accept Jamie's make-believe marriage proposal, and be seen as the type of mother her niece deserves. Respectable. Controlled. Willing to play the game.
With her faux-fiancé by her side, Lucy exchanges dirty martinis and leather for champagne and silk. But when the passion between Lucy and Jamie only grows greater, they have to make a choice: back away from each other and not get hurt...or risk everything for the kind of love money can't buy.
Bedding The Best Friend
&n
bsp; (Bedding the Bachelors Book 4)
As the new year approaches, nice girl Annie O’Roarke finds herself bored and lonely. She wants more excitement. More adventure. And more sex…even if it won’t be with her secret crush, her best friend, Ryan Hennessey. Annie’s determined to be “bad” for once in her life, and that includes completing her “naughty” list in a city where being bad is just an ordinary day: Vegas.
Ryan Hennessey is a firefighter who relishes his time off with Annie. Annie’s the only person he can count on and he’d never jeopardize their friendship. Then Ryan discovers Annie’s “naughty” list. Although he’s stunned Annie is raring to explore her wilder side, he doesn’t trust anyone else to keep her safe.
So long as he’s there to protect her, Ryan’s going to teach Annie the true key to being a bad girl.
A bad girl takes what she wants.
Will Annie be brave enough to act on the passion that sizzles between her and Ryan? And will Ryan convince himself and Annie that love is worth gambling for?
Bedding The Biker Next Door
(Bedding The Bachelors Book 5)
Jill Jones has good friends, a great job, and a steady amount of dates. What she doesn’t have is a kinky or wild bone in her body—or so she thinks. Then she meets a handsome tattooed biker who lights her on fire. Suddenly she’s saying yes to all sorts of things, starting with a night in bed, no strings attached.
A security expert, Cole Novak protects others for a living, but he’s weighed down by grief that he couldn’t save the most important person in his life. Then he meets Jill, and for one night she brings color back into his world…only to walk away, plunging him back into the now-familiar darkness.