Prove Me Right Page 6

“Yes!”

  I grab her hips, and we both chase it. Her pussy squeezes me while I press her forward and pull her back again over my cock. “Fuck, it’s so good. So damn good.” Our bodies detonate together, and we fall to the floor, completely fucking obliterated.

  * * *

  Jamie continues to lecture me over the phone and I ignore him as much as I can while Meara rests her head in my lap. He tracked me down just to make sure I remembered my obligations. I can’t fault any of the guys for being mad at me. If the roles were reversed, I’d probably be pissed too for someone leaving on such short notice.

  “I said I’d be back in time. Fuck, Jamie, it was one interview.”

  Meara’s hand stills on my leg, and then continues to make circles with her fingertips.

  “I leave for the airport in an hour. See you there.”

  I toss her phone on the coffee table and pull her up into my lap. After the shower, we cuddled in bed, dozing in and out. Not really talking, just being together. It’s now almost noon, and my flight leaves at four, so I have to go soon.

  “Why were you crying when I got here?”

  She shakes her head, not wanting to talk about it.

  “No. Talk to me.” I soften my voice, hoping she knows I’m not upset. Why the hell would I be mad anyway?

  “You didn’t call,” she whispers. “And you didn’t text me back. I was worried.”

  “Worried about what?”

  She turns on my lap so she’s straddling me, her eyes bouncing back and forth over my face. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You won’t. Ever.”

  A single tear falls from her eye, and I watch it roll down her face. “I was scared.”

  “I’m so sorry. I’m such an asshole. Listen …” I rub my hands over my head and set them back down on her thighs. “Yesterday morning, I got into it with the guys again. They all voted again on something without me, and let’s just say it wasn’t the best way start to my morning.”

  She tilts her head. “Why were you fighting?”

  “Well, the record company added more stops to the tour.”

  “Okay,” she replies, clearly not sure what the big deal is because stuff like this happens all the time.

  “They’re big, Meara.”

  “Wow.” Her smile lights up her face. “That’s amazing.”

  Right there. This is why I love her. No whining about me being gone more, no asking how long it’ll take, just support. Always.

  “And, of course, we’re getting compensated for it.”

  “Lee, that’s—”

  “I don’t want it, though.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Because I want to be here with you.”

  She pushes off me and crosses her arms. “Lee. Don’t. Not because of me. I’ll be here. Please don’t put your dream on hold for me. This is huge for the band.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s not for me anymore.” I stand and walk over to the wall that holds all her pictures on shelves. The family events I have missed and some pictures of us. It makes me wonder if we’d have pictures of us with our kids if I had never gone away. Where would we be if I had stayed? “I wanted it so bad when I was younger. And I thought what we had was the best fucking thing ever. Just rockin’ out, playing our music. That was all I really wanted. To play music. But the guys wanted more. They made me want more until it consumed me. Made me believe things I wasn’t sure of. You know this.”

  She’s now sitting back on the couch, watching me. “I know.”

  Meara does know. She understands me better than I do and has always been there for me. Even when I was at my absolute worst, when I hit rock bottom.

  “And I love the guys. I love the band. I’m so fucking grateful for everything I have. But I’m done. I want out and I want you.”

  “Lee …”

  I shake my head; her concern that she’s holding me back tears me apart. “It has nothing to do with you. I mean, it does, but it’s not because of anything you’ve done. It’s because I want to be here. With you. I want to get married, to start a family, to get a dog, and to have a life. Here. With you. And I can't do that if I’m on the road.”

  A small smile creeps onto her face. “I want that, too. But don't think I’m—”

  “You’re not. That’s the thing.” I sit on the coffee table across from her and take her hands in mine. “You’ve been nothing but supportive. And I know if I told you I wanted to do more after these next six months, you would be fine with that.”

  “I would,” she agrees.

  “I know it, princess. But I’m done. Another six months. That’s it.”

  “Six months?”

  “Six months.”

  Chapter 7

  Meara

  “SIX MONTHS?” I REPEAT again, lame as ever. In my defense, I’m shocked. Part of me always thought this was going to be the rest of my life. He said he’s done, though. In six freaking months! I can’t believe this is finally happening. Liam and me. Me and Liam. Together.

  “Six months.” He laughs. I’ve missed that light in his eyes. An ease settles over him, and I pull him to the couch.

  “Are you sure? I mean, what about the guys?”

  He settles next to me, and I rest my head on his chest. His long fingers twist the multitude of studs in my ear for a minute before he talks.

  “They weren’t happy, but band members leave all the time. They’ll find someone else. I think that eventually they’ll be happy for me. And really, I don't care if they’re not.”

  “Lee, don’t think for a second that if you change your mind, I’ll be mad or anything.” Of course, I want him. But I’m not selfish enough to tell him I’d rather have him here with me than on the road. If he did want to continue, I would be fine with it because it would make him happy. I want him to be happy. But if he’s really done with the band, then that makes me happy, too. ‘Cause I fucking miss him. So bad.

  “Does this mean what I think it means?”

  My head shakes on his chest when he laughs. I look up at him and flick his nose.

  “Yeah, princess. Go find it.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek then press a hard kiss to his lips, hop off the couch, and run to grab my laptop. Once I have it, I sit at the kitchen table and power it on, tapping my fingers anxiously. Liam stands behind me and places his hands on my shoulders, gently rubbing them, his thumbs kneading into my back. My head falls forward for a moment, and I let him take my stress away.

  Too excited to wait any longer, I roll my head back up and type in the address bar. Once I scroll through the website and see one that stands out, I point at it. “You like it?”

  “I don’t care. I already told you this.”

  “Liam, it’s a house, not a shirt. You have to have an opinion.”

  “My opinion is that I don’t care what the house looks like as long as you’re in it.”

  God, I love this man. He always said that we’d buy a house when he finished with his tour. In my mind, I was prepared to wait, so there was no way I could contain my excitement that I get to start house hunting now. I’ve always had this vision of what I want my house to look like. “Give me something. Anything. Please, Lee. I want you to like it, too.”

  “All right.” He kisses the top of my head and sits next to me. “I want privacy. If there’s not a fence already, I’ll build one, and I want some land. I don’t want the neighbors to be able to look over and see me fucking you.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “Think I’m joking?” The screeching of the metal chair legs pierces my ears when he turns it so my body is in front of his. He grips my upper arms, looking right at me to make sure I see him, too. “I’ve gone seven years not being able to have you whenever I want you. Seven horrific years of fucking my own hand almost daily when I only got to be inside you every three or four months. Do you have any idea how much I want you? Constantly.” He answers without giving me a chance to speak as his fingers tighten on my arms. “You are always
on my mind. Your face. Your smile. Your smartass mouth. Your body. And just thinking about you constantly makes me hard. Can you imagine how it’s going to be living together, waking up next to each other, and sleeping in the same bed every night?”

  I squirm in my chair, wetness quickly dampening my underwear. He trails a couple of fingers down my arm and grabs my wrist then places my hand on his rock hard dick. With his hand on top of mine, he squeezes.

  “It’s always like this for you. Only you. Doesn’t matter how many whores or groupies walk around backstage half naked. You’re the only one who can ever do this to me. Always have been and always will be. And if I know I get to come home and touch you, love you, fuck you every day for the rest of my life … Princess, it doesn’t matter where it is or what it looks like as long as you’re there.”

  “So at least an acre then?”

  He puts his hands on my waist and helps me onto his lap. “That should be sufficient.”

  I run my fingers through his hair and rest my forehead on his. As much as I want to grind down on him right now, I need him just to hold me more. Sensing my mood, he wraps his arms around me. I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in. “You need to get going,” I whisper.

  “Yeah,” he replies, voice full of regret.

  I kiss the tattoo of my lips on his neck and sigh. “Thank you for surprising me. But please don’t ever not call me again.”

  “I’m sorry. My head was all fucked up and I wasn’t thinking. But don’t hesitate to blow my phone up if you need to talk to me.”

  “I just don’t want to seem clingy,” I admit.

  “Meara. You’re my woman, not a clinger. Call me as much as you want.”

  Instead of answering, I nod. We stay like this, in our own world, taking a moment before I reluctantly stand so he can leave. I never take him to the airport. Since the first time he’s left, we always say good-bye at my house. Liam thinks a good-bye at the airport is too final. This way it’s as if he’s just leaving for work.

  I walk him to the door and press up on my toes when he leans down. Our lips meet and we kiss good-bye. A slow, sweet kiss that makes me only want more.

  “Fuck,” he says under his breath and pulls away. I step away and tuck my hands into my back pockets.

  “Text me when you land. See you soon.”

  Several minutes go by without him saying anything. He’s just standing here, watching me, his eyes soft. A slight smile pulls the left side of his lips up. There it is.

  “This is going to be one of the last times you ever say that to me.”

  “Thank God for that. I mean, I can do this as long as you need me to, but I miss you so much. I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve actually been together. The next six months can’t go by fast enough. Especially knowing that I get to get a house and then we’ll get married and have babies. And a dog.” I add the last bit in because he really wants a dog and I want to give him whatever I can to make him happy.

  “Do you know how much I fuckin’ love you, Meara?”

  “I think I have an idea,” I tease.

  “You better not have any doubt about it.” The tone of his voice is sharp, and I place my hands on his chest.

  “I know you love me.”

  “Good. Now kiss me again so I can go finish this shit up and get back to you.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  Liam

  “Son, I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “Wasn’t a planned trip, Pops. Gotta be to the airport in an hour.” What the hell am I doing here? I’m better than this; I know I am.

  He widens the door and I step in and cringe. Nothing’s changed. Empty bottles litter the floor and table, and overflowing ashtrays are stacked on top of the garbage. The stale smell of weed, cigarettes, and old food filters throughout the house. My dad stands next to me and I glance at him over my shoulder. I get my height from him. I wish that was all, but unfortunately, I got something else.

  “I need it,” I say shamefully and clear off a spot on the old mustard colored couch. As I sit down, I sink in the cushions a little, then take my hat off, and rest it on my knee.

  “Liam, don’t ask me—”

  “Just one. Please.”

  “How long you been clean for?” He walks over to the kitchen and reaches inside a shelf.

  “Hard stuff? Three years.” After what happened the last time I haven’t touched anything other than alcohol, I did a round of rehab and quit the drugs. Those were definitely some of the worst weeks of my life, but Meara said she’d leave me if I ever did them again. I’ve kept my word to her since then.

  It’s been so long, but with everything going on, all the damn stress, I need a little something. Just this once to tide me over since I have to go back to hell for the next six months. My logical side is telling me to walk the fuck away, but the irrational part of me says just once to have a fucking moment where I can breathe again. Just once.

  My dad comes back with an old cigar box and kneels down on the ground in front of me. Before he opens it, he clears his throat. “You sure you wanna do this? You can walk out of here, Lee. Give yourself a better life than what I have, be a better man than I’ve become.”

  I don’t hesitate. “I’m sure.”

  He opens the box and takes out a square mirror, razor blade, and small white rock. I bite my lip as he crushes it, and I take a stack of bills out of my wallet. Once I roll up a dollar bill, I hand it to him, but he just shakes his head and pushes the mirror toward me.

  The first hit burns my nostrils. I suck in a breath and blink rapidly while shaking my head. Clarity starts to swarm through my foggy brain, and I lean back on the couch while I wait for my dad. He does two in a row and hands it back to me. I suck up the last white line and am immediately ashamed of myself. What I’ve become. How fucking weak I am. That this makes the first and the only promise I’ve ever broken to Meara.

  “I’d give you some for the road but—”

  “I’m good. Thanks.” Already guilty, I shake my head. A few minutes of silence pass before I stand and we pat each other on the back. Great bonding moment. I pull away and point to the stack of bills on the table. “Use it, and let me know if you need more. Take care of yourself, Pops.”

  “How’s that girl of yours?” he asks right as I’m at the door.

  Without looking back at him, I answer, “She’s perfect.”

  “Don’t make my mistakes, Liam.”

  I nod and walk out the door, his words adding to the inner turmoil already weighing me down.

  * * *

  “Hey, man. Good flight?” Jamie asks as I step onto the bus.

  “Sure. It was fine.” I walk past him, but he grabs my arm then uses both hands to grip the side of my head. I try to push him away, but he slams me against the wall and forces my head up. I keep my eyes closed. I know what he’ll see—the guilt, the embarrassment—and I’m not ready to go there yet.

  “Fuck me. Lee, what in the fuck are you doing?” He slaps the side of my face, and I slowly open my heavy lids.

  Once his eyes meet mine, he curses under his breath again and pushes my shoulders. “Liam, Jesus fuck. You visit your old man while you were there? Meara know you’re back into this shit?”

  I don’t confirm or deny but push off the wall. “I need to get ready for the show.”

  “Fuck the show! I’m not gonna stand around and do nothing this time.”

  Mike and Gabe appear out of nowhere and stare at me.

  “Yes, you will because there’s nothing for you to do anything about.”

  My shoulder knocks into my brother on my way to the bathroom. I splash cold water on my face but refuse to look into the mirror. I take a quick shower and throw on a pair of jeans and t-shirt then my boots and a hat. The guys are waiting for me outside, and without making eye contact, I hop in the waiting SUV and pull the brim of my hat over my eyes.

  The ride to the venue is quiet, and as soon as we pull up, I hop out and head to the
dressing room. A bottle of vodka is already waiting for us, and I grab it and take some long pulls.

  Jamie walks in and looks at the bottle, then me, shakes his head, and walks right back out. Whatever. Everyone likes to act all superior. As if being in this business doesn’t take a toll on them, as if it doesn’t tear them apart. I’m the only one who can admit how fucking hard it is. But because they don’t have a woman who’s waiting for them, they don’t get it. All they have is random pussy.

  The show goes off without a hitch, and I play better tonight than I have in a long time. My solos are spot on, I engage with the crowd, and I even toss my sticks at the end, feeling more alive than I have in a long time. I thought the guys would be happy, especially Mike.

  “Killer show, right?” I raise my hand for a fist bump, but he ignores it and slams the door to our dressing room.

  “What the fuck, Liam?” Mike asks.

  “What? You were giving me shit about fucking up yesterday. I focused, man. I kicked ass … isn’t that what you want?” The high is long gone, but I still feel … on point right now, excited almost.

  “Not like that, Liam. Never like that.”

  I huff out a breath and reach for the bottle, but Jamie beats me to it and knocks it to the floor, its contents pouring out.

  “What the fuck, man?” I lean down to grab it, but Mike pushes me away. When I straighten my back, I see the three men who mean almost as much as Meara does to me staring back. And they’re all looking at me with disappointment.

  “You’re not doing this to yourself again.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not doing anything. ‘Cause I wanna have a fucking drink after the show? Whatever …” I turn around and slam the door on my way out, then walk around until I find who I’m looking for. I don’t know him, but when I raise my eyebrow in question, he looks around and nods, then leads me down the dark hallway.

  Chapter 8

  Meara

  “GUESS WHAT?” I JUMP up and down when Charlotte walks into the pub and grab her shoulders. “Guess fucking what?”

  Her eyes widen. “What?”

  “Liam’s moving back home in six months!” I squeal and jump even higher. It’s the Tuesday after he visited and since we’re closed on Mondays, I stayed holed up in my apartment all day, something I’m not used to at all. I was up late catching up on paperwork though so I could do some looking. I wanted to tell Char in person, so I waited until today. “And I looked at houses all day yesterday. I have a whole day of tours scheduled for next Monday, and you’re coming with me!”