Chapter 15
Luc
The Night We Met
Lord Huron
“I can’t believe we’re back in this damn city, man.” I pace in front of the large plate-glass window that overlooks the lights of the Vegas strip. My arms are crossed over my chest, where beneath, my heart is beating irrationally hard.
“We had to, Luc.” Dean takes a swig of the beer he’s holding, his posture comfortably sprawled on one of the four couches in the massive living room.
His gaze tracks my movement, bouncing back and forth like he’s watching a tennis match.
“You know it’s always a huge turn-out here.
” He shakes his head. “And it’s the fucking Sphere, man. ”
“I know, I know.” I sigh, throwing a glance his way. “I didn’t think it was going to be this tough.”
“Dude, it’s been almost two years.” Dean scratches his chin, one side of his mouth tugging down. “None of us thought-” He shrugs before finishing his sentence. “Well, none of us thought it would be an issue. I mean, it’s been almost two years, and you only spent two nights with that damn chick.”
My body stiffens as I come to an abrupt halt, turning to look at Dean.
He’s my best friend. We’ve been through everything you can possibly imagine two guys going through, and I do mean everything.
But fuck me if I don’t want to punch him in the damn face right now.
He knows better than anyone what two nights with “that chick” did to me.
“Lily.” I growl out. “Her name is Lily, and you know damn fucking well she wasn’t just some damn chick to me.”
“Sorry.” He throws his hands above his head in surrender, standing as he does. “Shouldn’t have said that.”
He strides over to me, clapping a hand on my shoulder, his next words coming out gentle. “You have to let her go, Luc. If she wanted to see you, find you, she would have.”
I know he’s right. It’s been one year, nine months, and four days since we were together. Not that I’m counting. I clap him back on the shoulder, nodding, instead of providing a verbal response, and begin pacing again.
He strolls behind the bar and grabs another beer from the large glass fridge. “Hey, at least they agreed to book us in a different hotel this time. That has to help a little bit, right?” He twists the top off the bottle as he asks the question.
“Sure.” I acquiesce, not really believing that anywhere within a hundred miles of this place is going to do anything but remind me of her.
It’s only two o’clock. I don’t have to prep for the show for another five hours. I’m going to wear a hole through this carpet if I stay here.
“I’m gonna go take a walk.” I decide out loud. I head for the stairs that lead up to my room so I can grab a hat and some glasses.
“You want company?” Dean asks as I pass him.
“Nah.” I throw over my shoulder. “Will make it more obvious if we’re together.”
“You going to be okay?” Concern in his tone as I start trotting up the stairs.
I understand why he’s worried. I do. I was a train wreck for six weeks after we left Vegas the last time we were here. Fucked so much shit up for us. And while I’m definitely feeling things I thought I’d put behind me, I’m tight. I’m not going to spiral again.
“I’m good, man.” I assure him. “I’ll find you if things get heavy.”
Fifteen minutes later I step off the elevator into a hallway that leads through the casino. It’s the only way out, unless I wanted to go through the hassle of finding one of my security guards and having them lead me through a maze of back hallways to a staff elevator.
The thing about Vegas, especially in the casino, most people are focused on the machine in front of them, and don’t even notice what’s happening around them.
Being recognized has only gotten worse over the last year. Especially with all the attention we received over album of the year. Kind of ironic. It was this town, that damn chick, as Dean likes to refers to Lily, that inspired every song on our album, Ashes anger, disgust, denial, she starts to cry. Her head landing in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she begins to sob.
Well, fuck me. Not sure what’s happening now or how I handle this.
I sit up straight, not sure if I should get up and go to her, or wait for her to finish.
Just as I make a decision and stand, she lifts her head, mascara streaking down her cheeks, the look she’s giving me a startling difference from before.
“I’ve been trying to figure out who you are for almost two years.” She blubbers out, her nose running as tears continue to cascade.
I take a couple steps closer, confusion front and center as I approach her cautiously. “I don’t understand.”
Her hand slides over her mouth as her eyes scrunch shut, her head shaking back and forth. When her eyes open again, she drags her fingers down her chin, so much pain on her face. “I have so many questions.”