Rock Dirty (Rock Candy #2) (17 page)

The last thing I wanted was for Point Break
to blow apart and for everything we’d spent years building to be lost. Plus, more than that, Liam was my best friend. I’d missed him. More than my fears about what was going to happen with the band, I’d feared what was going to happen to us. To our friendship. Now I was hopeful things would work out just fine.

I’d already lost Nikki. If I could keep my relationship with my best friend, I had to try.

When we met up, it felt odd shaking his hand. Usually, I’d just wrap an arm around him in a macho half-hug and pat his back, but I wasn’t quite ready for that. I was open to olive branches, but I wasn’t feeling generous enough to approach everything wide open. It seemed like a terrifying way to get stabbed.

Maybe not even in the back, just full on in the chest.

It wouldn’t be worse than most of what had happened lately.

It seemed that some of my bitterness wasn’t that crazy or out there. Liam hadn’t mentioned that Abby would be joining us, but as we both sat down and started skimming through the menu, she sauntered over and sat next to Liam. His arm draped casually around her and I studied them, hurt and anger filling me.

But not because of anything having to do with Abby.

Granted, I’d been an ass to Abby when we’d first met. She was serious and straightlaced, a real musician, but that wasn’t why she’d rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe even back then I’d sensed the power she’d hold over Liam. I’d been afraid she’d be the Yoko Ono to our Beatles. But since then, I’d seen how happy she made Liam. He’d found the love of his life and was so soppy and happy. Despite everything I was happy for him.

It was the most natural thing in the world for him to wrap his arm around her and let his fingers play in her hair while she tapped her fingertips on his thigh. Their casual intimacy communicated exactly how much they cared about each other, how
easy
everything was between them.

And I was hurt and angry because I suddenly wanted that so bad. With Nikki. Only I couldn’t have it.

“Hey Tucker,” Abby said, her tone guarded. “How are you?”

I shrugged and sipped the water already set out by the waiter. “Honestly? I’ve been a lot better, Abs.”

She frowned and pursed her lips back at me. “Liam said I should come along. Maybe he misjudged the situation.”

Liam crossed his arms over his chest and I was kind of surprised that he bothered to break that much contact with Abby. They seemed like they were conjoined twins lately. “If you have a problem with Abby, Tucker, then you have a problem with me.”

“I don’t,” I groaned. “But I’ve been having the worst luck with women myself so I guess I just wish I was as smooth or blessed as Liam. I’m hella jealous of what you two have together.”

“Oh. Well…” Abby and Liam both looked stunned as shit.

I couldn’t even regret whatever impulse had made me bring it up. Suddenly, in front of my best friend and his girl, all I wanted was to unload all my troubles and ask their advice about Nikki.

“I can…if you guys need to walk or grab a private minute then you can,” Abby said.

“Only if you want to. I wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to hear my girl drama. I never thought I’d be the kind of guy who had drama, period,” I said, placing a sandwich order when the waiter came by and waiting for Abby and Liam to order their meals before I continued. “I went to Paris and came back completely pathetic.”

“Nah, you were always more high strung than you thought, Tucker,” she chirped. “But if you need any help, at least ask. Liam almost blew it with me.”

“There was no almost about it,” Liam said quietly as he took Abby’s hand and brought it to his lips. After she smiled at him, he turned back to me. “I really blew it, but Abby gave me a second chance. Maybe that’s what you…or
she
…needs. A second chance to show each other your best.”

I shrugged, thinking about how Nikki made me feel when we were at our best. It beat a shot of the richest Scotch or a warm fire on a cold, upstate New York night. Hell, it actually beat sex. I’d only known Nikki a week, but I’d take spending time with her over sex with another woman in a heartbeat. If all I wanted was a hot lay, I could get that here, and it wouldn’t hurt so bad to be a whole ocean away from her.

“Maybe. Problem is, I’m not at my best. If I was, I would never have bailed when things got rough. I would never have left her to deal with shit on her own. But I did. And now I’m miserable,” I replied, downing my drink.

Liam sighed. “And I know I played a part in making you that way.”

I shrugged. “Yeah it sucked that we canceled tour dates. That me and the guys don’t even know what the future of the band is.” When Liam remained quiet, I got defensive, my tone snottier. “It’s not like you’ve worked hard to stay in touch. I asked before and you blew me off, which was fucking terrifying, man. It’s not just your livelihood on the line, you know?”

Abby frowned and narrowed her eyes at Liam. “You haven’t told him?”

“Told me what?” I asked.

“Look, bro, I was a real piece of shit for letting you hang out there for a week. I’m trying not to do that now. Abby and I talked. I want to be with her here in New York for a few months. I want to get past her audition. Support her. But then we’re going to finish the tour. In the meantime, I was hoping you guys wouldn’t mind going back to the studio. Here in New York. We could play with a few things. Grow our sound. I don’t want to go soft. But I like what strings have brought to the mix. I wouldn’t mind a few more ballads. That’s all that I’m saying.”

I grinned, my chest feeling light for the first time in days. We weren’t soft rock bullshit, but I liked the ballads too. There was that song I’d started and never shared before, those few, unfinished verses that I’d already sung to Nikki. She’d been upset and my song—raw as it had been—had calmed her and sent her into a peaceful sleep. It made me think something was there.

Enough that it would be worth finishing. Enough that it could be the most important bit of music that had ever flowed through me.

Dominique’s Song
.

Yeah, I liked that idea a lot.

“So we’re getting back in the studio?”

He nodded and squeezed Abby’s hand. “I already talked to Corbin and Wes. They’re on board. If you are, we can record, then in a few months, begin the tour in Asia, then Europe.”

“I’m on board,” I said quickly. “It’s just, I have some ideas too…if you’re open to hearing them. I want to co-write. I also want to try singing lead on at least one song.”

Abby nodded. “You’re good at harmonizing. It’s more than time for you to try stepping out too. I mean, it’s your fourth album, go big or go home with experimenting, right?”

Liam studied me silently for a moment, then grinned and held out his hand. “I agree.”

I shook his hand, then we both laughed, stood, and hugged.

* * *

“So, do you want to tell me more about the mystery gal?” Liam asked later. After lunch, Abby had headed out to meet a friend and Liam and I had taken a walk and talked a bit more about the plans for the band.

“Her name is Nikki,” I reminded as we walked through the trees and past the various painters and artists in the park. “You know, as in Lorenz. We talked about that.”

“I know her name, dick, but I don’t know anything about her. Nothing except what’s been in the press. And I get there’s more to her than that if you’re this torn up about her.”

“That’s the problem,” I moaned. “I am torn up. I really care about her. But the things she does, man…it’s not just having fun in a club or even picking a few fights. She keeps having this weird urge to climb up on railings.”

“Railings?” he asked, quirking a brow at me.

“Yeah, I’m not kidding. I found her balancing on the Pont Neuf like it was a beam in a gym. Then she had this freak out and jumped onto a ledge of the Eiffel Tower. Liam, man, she slipped and almost fell. Technically, she did fall, but it was back onto the actual tower. If things had gone the other way, she’d have splatted all over everything. It keeps me up nights.”

“Shit. That is some heavy drama. Is she going to get help?”

“I suggested therapy to her but she blew it off.”

“Then there you go. You can’t save someone who won’t get help.”

“I know. That’s why she’s still there and I’m here,” I added, shoving my hands in my jeans pockets. “But I can’t help feeling like I let her down somehow, that I let both of us down. Maybe this was all a test.”

“A test for what?”

“For whether we were ever meant to be more than just fun together.”

“So what? Are you saying you love this girl?”

“Yeah,” I said, finally saying it out loud. “Or, at least, I think I’m falling in love with her.”

Liam nodded. “I understand. But you haven’t known her very long. Maybe you just got caught up in the drama. The white knight syndrome. Maybe when you’ve been back home for a while, you’ll forget all about her.”

“The way you forgot about Abby when she came back here?”

“Abby’s everything to me, Tucker.”

“Right now, I think I feel about Nikki the way you feel about Abby. I’ve been miserable. I’m just terrified when I’m with her she’s going to hurt herself. But she might do that anyway, whether I’m with her or not. And what if I can convince her to go to therapy? What if she just needed more time to get there? More support?”

Fuck, more love. Maybe she just needed to know that she was loved, that someone was going to stick by her while she got it together enough to seek help. And I’d kicked her in the teeth by leaving her just like everyone else in her life had.

“I let her down badly,” I said, “and I need to work on getting a flight back to Paris. I can’t just walk away from her, man. It’s wrong. It’s so fucking wrong.” Abruptly, I started jogging back in the direction of my hotel.

Liam ran with me. “You sure about this, Tucker?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m going to prove to Nik that there’s one person who will stand by her no matter what. Me.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Nikki

After I left Tucker, I checked into another hotel room (I didn’t want Mom or Hermes tracking me down at Claude’s) and laid in bed for days, getting up only for the bare necessities of food and bathroom breaks. I was numb. I didn’t feel anything. It was like separating from Tucker had separated me from all emotion. At one point, however, a thought occurred to me and it was like a dam had burst. I realized I didn’t feel anything, and that meant I didn’t feel like balancing on balconies or bridges either.

Cue the hysterical laughter.

At least the pain of losing Tucker was good for one thing, I’d thought.

And then I’d started crying.

Now I was done. My guilt and self-loathing were eating away at me. Guilt that I’d worried Tucker so much. Self-loathing that I’d driven him away after only a week. That was a personal best for me. All behold the amazing freak that is Nikki Lorenz, she who can send men running in days. Give me time and I could probably lower my time to mere hours.

But this was all about the mourning and wallowing, and I knew I couldn’t do it forever. Eventually my mom and Hermes would come looking for my body. At least, I assumed they would.

But despite all evidence to the contrary, I wasn’t quite ready to throw in the towel to that degree.

I got out of bed, creaky and stiff, completely like the Tin Man from
The Wizard of Oz
before his oil can. It was as if moving at all cost me everything. But I managed to drag myself to the bathroom and get to the sink. Standing before it, I reached down and splashed water on my face. It felt good, cool, and that at least centered me. My eyes were red and slightly swollen. I figured that was what almost an hour of crying did to you.

It wasn’t just Tucker I’d cried for. It was so many other things too. I wasn’t a good enough designer no matter what I did, and I wasn’t the right kind of daughter, not even close. So far, I’d lived up to my reputation as the family embarrassment and done nothing to live up to the promise of my early buzz and designs.

And, you know what?

It wasn’t all my mother’s fault.

I’d blamed my mom in so many ways since I was a teenager, for always being gone and then for never seeming to care. I was angry at her for always digging hardest at my designs and my efforts and most especially for blaming me for my father’s death. Maybe I was overdesigning and creating the extreme looks in part to spite her. Maybe with every bizarre piece of so-called art and every spiraling high heel, I was sticking it to my mother.

Except I was twenty-seven now, and it was time to get the fuck over it. Maybe we’d never be more than acquaintances. Maybe I’d have to endure her condescension and bitterness for the rest of my life, and those awful jabs that cut into me more than any knife could have, but I couldn’t keep blaming her for everything.

I’d made so many bad decisions all on my own, including climbing on balconies and bridges. And maybe it was the loss of him that made me hear Tucker’s words about getting help, but I finally heard them. I was going to call a counselor and at least try to get my head on straight.