A Love Song for Liars (Rivals #1) - Piper Lawson Page 0,56

Tyler in the pool house.

I wonder if he knows.

But he doesn’t say anything as I pass him my sister, then turn for the door.

19

This week feels like I’m living a roller coaster—or a series of them, one after the other, without time to get off in between.

It’s after midnight when I round the house, guitar in tow, headed for Jax’s converted tour bus.

I spend a lot of time in here with Jax, but it’s different on my own. I’m surrounded by memories, by history, but tonight when I take a seat on the couch, it’s just me and the incredible instrument under my hands.

Is there any part of my life Annie doesn’t touch anymore?

I play song after song, and while I play, I think.

About me, about her, about the future.

I want to make something of myself. Maybe more than a session musician. Jax has fame and obligations, but he also has a lot of positive impact. He employed dozens of people, inspired millions, by doing what he does best. You can’t do that by playing small.

A noise has me jerking my head up to see Jax appear at the top of the stairs.

“You’re up late,” he observes.

“Can’t sleep.”

“Me either.”

Jax crosses the floor, completely at ease—he should be, this was his tour bus for the better part of a decade—but when he gets close, I see the ease is an illusion.

His jaw is tight, his eyes unsettled. “Nice guitar.”

My gut twists sharply, but I’m ready.

I set the guitar down. “I’m calling Zeke back to tell him I can’t come to New York.”

Jax takes a seat on the opposite couch, crossing an ankle over his knee. “I assume you’re going to tell me why.”

I rise, the photos on the wall drawing me closer. One of me and Annie at Jax’s old label, me wearing the Ramones T-shirt she bought me, has me lingering.

“Before you brought me here, you made me promise something.”

“To stay away from my daughter.”

“To look out for her,” I correct. “And I have. I care about her more than anything. Maybe there’s always been some part of me that wanted more than her friendship, but I didn’t believe I could have it. Sure as hell didn’t believe I deserved it.”

I take a deep breath and turn to face him. “I know you don’t think I’m good enough for her.”

“Why do you say that?”

My hands fist at my sides. “Come on, Jax. Don’t fuck with me. I’m only here because you feel guilty.”

He leans forward, and I continue.

“I know everything. That you met my dad fifteen years ago when he was stringing together whatever shitty gigs he could. Bartending to keep enough money for beer. Sometimes to keep the lights on.

“He worked at Wicked as a part-time janitor until he got fired for missing too many shifts.

“But the highlight of all of it was meeting you. You were young like him, came from nothing, and you were a success. He wanted what you had, and you gave him advice.”

Jax folds his arms over his chest, and the amber eyes so much like Annie’s glow. “What did I tell him?”

“You know.” But I say it anyway. “You told him not to let anything or anyone get in his way. That in order to succeed, he had to look out for himself.”

Emotion rises up in my throat, huge and awful and unfamiliar.

“But he had a three-year-old son at home. And he took that advice—your advice—to heart.”

My chest is tight as the memories come back, ones I’ve done everything in my power to push down. Me vying for his attention, finally realizing I’d never get it. The only time he was encouraging was when I joined the program at Wicked for troubled teens because he thought he could use my connection to the label.

When he realized he couldn’t, he decided to take from me directly.

The year before I left to come here, it all spilled out one night—how his lack of success was my fault, that he’d always blamed me for holding him back.

“I know that’s not the only reason he neglected me,” I continue, my voice rough. “You gave him permission, but the idea was his. I can’t even blame you because you brought me here. You knew and you set out to make it up to me.”

Jax shifts out of his seat, pacing to the end of the bus in slow strides before turning back. “Tyler… I have no idea who your father is.” His voice is strangely precise. “I meet