Rock & Roll Nights: The Lila and Rivers Edit

15. Rivers

15

RIVERS

W e screeched into town about an hour before the next show was supposed to start, and though every cell in my body wanted to go find Taylor James and tell her exactly what I thought of their little publicity scheme, I grabbed Lila’s hand, went into the hotel to get a key to my room and drop our things off, and then headed directly downstairs to the venue. This town was larger than the last, which meant our hotel had more than three floors, but the place had been built weird. Instead of housing the music hall in a different building, they’d decided to put it on the first floor of the hotel itself.

That little detail aside, the size of the town came with some complications. More people. More buildings. It would take more time to find Taylor, and I wanted at least an hour in which to give her a piece of my mind.

We didn’t have time for that right now.

A large part of my brain also didn’t know what, exactly, I was going to say to her. Was I furious that they’d left us behind? Yes. Was this one more publicity stunt done at my expense, after a lifetime of watching other people use my life for their benefit? Yes.

And that was starting to get really, really old, though underneath the hurt was an echoing thought that this was the life I’d signed up for, and at least publicity made me useful. I’d learned quickly how to be exactly what people wanted me to be, and though I had musical talent, I knew that my willingness to play for the camera was what really made my career. When I was young I’d been the bright new thing, smiling and performing at every stop. As I got older, I’d devolved into a moody teenager, and I’d let them see everything.

These days, I played the role of bad boy so well that I didn’t know where the public image stopped and I began. And I didn’t know if I could blame Taylor for taking advantage of my natural instincts for trouble.

Besides, there was a bigger, more important thought behind the anger at being used.

Taylor’s little publicity stunt had given me hours and hours alone with Lila. And it had been possibly the most beautiful afternoon of my entire life.

I was so angry at Taylor that I wanted to scream at her… but I also couldn’t get over the fact that she had given me a chance to experience Lila in all her glory. And I didn’t think that would have happened unless we’d been alone. Stuck in a meadow in the bed of a truck we’d essentially stolen. Staring at the clouds.

I wondered if this had been more than just a publicity stunt. Could Taylor have known what would happen if we were alone together all afternoon? Had she thought it might actually give us a chance to get to know each other, and start to fall for each other?

Was Taylor that devious?

No. I scoffed at the idea and turned my thoughts toward more important issues. I needed to get one of the roadies to take the truck back and return it to its owner before we got in any real trouble. But I’d do that in the morning.

Right now, we had a show to get to.

I tugged at Lila’s hand, forcing her to walk faster, and strolled through the reception area toward the stairs, my mind on the show ahead of us and wondering why the hell there weren’t any photographers around now, when Lila and I were making ourselves so obvious.

Probably because Taylor hadn’t actually expected us to make it to town at all.

Hell, if she thought we were actually falling for each other, she might have planned for us to stay out there on the road for a full day, just for the pleasure of it. The idea made me angry in a way I couldn’t explain, though I thought it had something to do with the thought of Taylor manipulating our feelings that way.

Of course it could also boil down to the shadows crawling through my mind at how quickly I was falling for Lila’s charms. And how much I wanted to keep falling.

* * *

We got into the venue to see The Leathers already halfway through their set and rushed backstage to find my band doing their prep work in the wings. I gave them all furious looks—which they acted like they didn’t understand—and then put Lila safely out of the way while I went to help set up.

She, of course, didn’t stay put. Instead, she hustled forward to help Matty with a bunch of equipment and started telling him about the truck we’d ‘borrowed.’

“Only Rivers says we weren’t stealing it because supposedly he’s going to have it returned to the owner,” she finished.

I looked over in time to see her rolling her eyes in my direction and gave her a quick grin. “I’ll have it returned tomorrow,” I promised. “It’s not stealing if they end up getting it back.”

“Seems like a pretty fine line there, my friend,” Matt observed.

“Shut it, you. You aren’t the one who found yourself stranded when you were supposed to be at a show.”

Matt smirked at me—same old Matt—and turned back to Lila to ask why it had taken us so long to get here if we’d had a truck. I froze, wondering what she was going to say. We’d spent far too long in that meadow, and though some of it had been innocent, a whole lot of it hadn’t been. What was she going to say? That we were lying around staring at clouds… or that we were making love under the sky, those clouds flying along above us and shielding us from absolutely nothing?

Neither was a good option. Both were private, and though I’d shared most of my life with the public—and my friends—I suddenly realized that I didn’t want to share this. I didn’t want anyone else to know about what Lila and I had.

I didn’t want anyone else touching the memory.

“Had some car trouble,” she quipped. “Had to pull over for a while. Probably serves us right for stealing a truck, to be honest.”

I looked up and our gazes clashed, her bright green with my dark brown. And in her gaze, I saw that she wasn’t going to give up my secrets. Because she didn’t want to share what we’d done with anyone else, either. She was going to protect me, the same way I wanted to protect her.

God.

I went back to what I’d been doing, knowing that I had the stupidest expression I’d ever worn on my face. I probably looked goofy and punch drunk. Dazed and confused and yet completely sure of something I wasn’t sharing.

I didn’t give a single fuck what I looked like.

I was too happy to care.

* * *

That night, I found her in the crowd on purpose. I signaled to the guys that we were going to sing our one and only love song—which we didn’t generally put into our sets and almost never practiced—and then turned to scan the crowd for a head full of red hair and the brightest eyes I’d ever seen. It didn’t take me long. The girl would have stood out in a crowd of a million, and there were probably only two hundred in this hall.

I sought her eyes like I was seeking shelter, and when she turned to me and smiled, the world lit up. Home, I thought. This must be what home felt like. And family. Someone there for you no matter what—someone who would always be happy to see you, who would always have a hug for you and a place at their table. A kind word and a laugh, no matter how the rest of the world was treating you. A made-up game about clouds that let you feel like you were only five and didn’t have a care in the world.

Comfort. It was something that came so naturally to her, and yet…

I’d never experienced that. It was new and different and so mind-altering that I almost forgot the next words to the song. My mind kicked in and saved me, though, and we launched into the chorus, our music reaching up to the rafters and filling the entire place with chords I hadn’t even thought of for years.

God, this song was good. All about the heartbreak of feeling so much for someone you didn’t think you could hold it all in and the bigger heartbreak of finding out they didn’t feel the same way about you. The audience was definitely responding to it, though I doubted many of them had ever heard it before. They were swaying and lighting up their phones in response, their voices gone quiet as they listened.

We should play this one more often.

When I looked back to Lila, intent on finishing the song with her, I found that she was no longer alone. Some guy was standing next to her, close enough that his arm was pressed against hers, his head ducked down to say something to her. She was smiling in response and nodding, and I felt like whatever had been growing inside me all day had suddenly popped. The ease and peace I’d found disappeared, and in its place, a green, ugly monster lifted its head and roared.

Who the fuck was that guy, and why was he talking to Lila? Why was she smiling like she’d never heard anything so charming, and what the fuck was he doing standing so close to her?

I ended the song on the last note and let the music fade from my guitar. Then I took the microphone in hand, looked right at her, and said, “I don’t know if you guys have seen the news but while we’ve been on this tour I’ve met someone pretty special. And right now, I’d like to bring her to the stage. Lila Potter, you want to get your cute little butt up here and say hello?”

I saw her tip her head in surprise and meet my eyes, then narrow her own in suspicion. Moments later, though, she was leaving that guy behind and walking toward me.

And that was all I needed to see.