We’re family. Nothing will ever change that.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
“You know I don’t like to play favorites.” He slaps the rolled magazine on his leg, then hands it to me. “I gave one of these to Luke when he was about your age. When he, too, became a man.”
I check out the cover. It has a half-naked woman on it. I gulp.
He leans over and opens it to a picture of a woman touching a man’s penis. I’m shocked, but at the same time, I feel hot and tingly.
“This is yours now,” he says. “It makes it better when you touch yourself down there. Just make sure you hide it where Mom won’t find it. It would only embarrass her.”
He gets off the bed, then leans down and puts his hands on my shoulders. “I envy you. If only I could go back and relive those fine moments of becoming a man.”
My eyes stray to his crotch. His sweatpants are bulging. I wonder if he gets hot and tingly, too, when he sees the women in the magazine. I guess what he says is true—that it’s normal.
“Goodnight, big man,” he says, crossing to the door.
“Night, Dad.”
After he leaves, I thumb through the magazine, feeling all kinds of zings through my body. I reach under my pants and stroke myself. He’s right. It is better this way.
Chapter Twelve
Ella
I’ve been to my share of concerts, but I’ve never had the privilege of going backstage. It’s a whirlwind of activity. Liam and his bandmates are being treated like royalty. If I’m honest, so am I—by association.
Bria sees me standing alone. “What do you make of all this?”
Even though this amphitheater is a relatively small venue in the overall scheme of concerts, it’s still more exciting than anything I’ve ever done. “It’s kind of surreal.”
“I’m still getting used to it myself.”
“But Liam said you used to be a backup singer for White Poison. This must be like small potatoes compared to that.”
“It’s different when you’re out in front,” she says. “I was invisible back then.”
“Do you get nervous?”
“Every time. But Crew keeps me grounded.” She gazes longingly at him. He winks at her.
“You guys are great together.”
“We are,” she says. “In more ways than one.”
“Liam tells me you’re all moving into the same apartment when you return to New York.”
“Everyone but Brad. He’s moving in with Katie.”
I glance around, searching for someone who looks as lost as I do. “Where is she? Maybe we can hang out when you’re playing.”
“She didn’t come on the tour. She rarely goes to any performances.”
“Why not?”
“She doesn’t like rock and roll. Or alcohol. Or crowds.”
“And he’s dating her? Seems odd.”
“They’re more than dating. He’s going to marry her.”
I glance at Garrett. “How about him? Is he attached?”
Bria snorts. “Garrett? No. He’s the stereotypical musician. He goes out with a lot of women but rarely more than once or twice.”
“What about Liam? Would you say he’s a stereotypical musician?”
She gazes at me for a long moment.
I met Liam’s bandmates this afternoon, and they all seem to know my being here isn’t because Liam and I are dating. But maybe she thinks I’m interested.
“I don’t care if he is,” I add. “It’s just that he doesn’t say much about himself, and I haven’t known him long.”
“I hope you don’t find this question rude, Ella, but exactly why are you here? If you aren’t interested in a relationship with Liam, why follow him to Florida and agree to stay for six weeks?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“He’s not exactly a Chatty Kathy. He told us you’re his muse.”
“I came to get away from my ex.”
“Bad breakup?” She looks concerned. “Oh, gosh. He wasn’t hurting you, was he?”
“No, nothing like that. We dated for a year and a half, but after we split, he kept showing up—at the hospital after I fell, at the park when I went running. And he wouldn’t stop sending me things.” My eyes shift to the floor. “In some ways I still love him. I didn’t trust myself to be around him and not take him back, so when this opportunity presented itself, it seemed like the perfect solution.”
She smiles, satisfied with my explanation. “To answer your question, no, Liam is not the stereotypical musician. He’s …” She studies him as he chats with the sound guy.
“Dark and twisty?”
She thinks about my words. “Actually, I think that’s exactly how I would describe him. What has he told you? I’ve known him for a year, and I still can’t