Chapter 11
“And where exactly are you taking me this time?”
“It’s a surprise.” Lewis’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he shut my door.
I shook my head as he rounded the car. Anderson sat in the driver’s seat, his body rigid as he watched him. Something told me Lewis had begged him to stay in the car. The only question was why he had agreed when it obviously made him uncomfortable.
I leaned forward, intending to ask the bodyguard exactly that but the other door opened and Lewis slid in. Settling back in my seat, I let it go. For now.
“I could be the kind of girl who hates surprises, you know.”
“Are you?” His brows rose, tone dripping with disbelief.
“No, but you didn’t know that.”
He chuckled. “Would you think less of me if I admitted that I’d still try to surprise you even if you hated them?”
I could never but I didn’t say that. I zipped my lips and left him to wonder while Anderson took off into traffic. Amused, Lewis leaned forward and picked up two takeaway cups that had been waiting in the central console.
“Wasn’t sure how you took your coffee, so…” He grinned, holding up the two steaming cups. “I got one with enough cream and sugar to rot your teeth, and one black.”
“I’ll take the cavity-inducer, thanks.”
As I reached for the cup, our fingers brushed, electricity zinging up my arm. From the way Lewis’s breath hitched, I knew he felt it too.
We stayed like that for a charged moment, eyes locked, the air humming with possibility and a little bit of regret.
Why did I insist he go back to his own hotel room last night?
For twenty minutes, we sipped our coffees and made small talk while his bodyguard wound through early morning LA traffic and up into the Hollywood Hills. Lewis hummed along to the indie rock playing softly on the stereo, his fingers tapping the door handle. I watched him, a smile tugging at my lips at this relaxed, playful side of the rock star.
Finally, we pulled into a small, nearly hidden parking lot nestled among the trees. Anderson shut the car off and climbed out, his eagle eyes already scanning our surroundings.
“We’re here.” Lewis threw his door open. “Ready to see the best view in all of Los Angeles?”
“Is that meant to be a hint for what we’re doing?”
“Maybe.” He hopped out and rounded the car.
I followed at a much slower pace, breathing in the fresh, piney air. “Oh, are we hiking?”
“Maybe,” he said again as he grabbed a backpack and cooler from the trunk.
“I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, but it’s pretty obvious right now so just spill it.”
“Fine.” He slung the pack over his shoulders, handing me a water bottle from the cooler. “Not just any hike. I’m taking you to my favourite spot in all of LA. A place to get away from it all.”
Well, colour me intrigued. My mind raced with possibilities. A secluded beach? A hidden waterfall? Some celebrity-only hideaway? Whatever it was, the fact that he wanted to share it with me launched butterflies in my belly.
We set off up a less-travelled path, Anderson trailing a discreet distance behind. It was narrow and winding, hemmed in by fragrant pines and sprawling oaks. We walked in comfortable silence for a bit, just soaking in nature and each other’s presence. Every so often, Lewis would point out a particularly interesting bird or plant, his eyes alight with boyish enthusiasm.
“You sure know a lot about the local wildlife,” I teased as he identified a California scrub-jay flitting through the branches.
He ducked his head, a touch of pink tinging his cheeks. “Ah, that’s all Mam’s doing. She’s mad for birds, was always dragging me and my sister out on nature walks as kids. Guess some of it stuck.”
I smiled, charmed by this glimpse into his childhood. “That sounds really nice, actually. All my mom’s dragging was to church potlucks and bake sales.”
“Ooh, I’ve heard about those.” Lewis rubbed his belly appreciatively. “They always look so delicious on TV.”
I pulled a face. “I don’t know about that but it’s like a cure all to some of the people in my town.”
He chuckled. “The miracle of casseroles.”
I snorted, bumping him with my shoulder. “More like the miracle of Cool Whip and canned cream-of-whatever soup. It was like a competition to see who could come up with the most outlandish combination of processed ingredients.”
“Okay, I retract my earlier statement.” Lewis shook his head, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “That sounds like a horror show. Bet those church ladies could give Gordon Ramsay a run for his money in the ‘what the hell is that’ department.”
“You’re not wrong,” I said, giggling. “But you know, for all the questionable food choices, those potlucks were the heart of our little community. Everyone coming together, sharing what they had, catching up on each other’s lives. It was nice. Comforting, in its own way.”
“I can understand that.” Lewis nodded, a nostalgic note creeping into his voice. “Reminds me a bit of my mam’s Sunday roasts back home. Gave us a chance to just be a family, you know?”
We continued on, the conversation flowing easily between us, punctuated by the crunch of leaves beneath our feet and the occasional bird call. The steep incline of the trail left me slightly breathless, but I welcomed the burn in my muscles.
“Did you always know you wanted to do this?”
“What? Hike with you?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know exactly what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do.” He grinned. “But teasing you is entertaining. You either give as good as you get, or your cheeks turn this pretty pink colour and you get this sheepish…”
“Alright, no need for that.” I slapped his arm, my face burning. “Just answer the question.”
He laughed but quickly sobered as his smile fell away. “Honestly, I can’t remember.” He adjusted the pack, looking anywhere but at me. He kicked a pebble, watching it skitter down the path. “I used to hole up in my room for hours, teaching myself chords, writing these godawful angsty teenage lyrics.”
A self-deprecating chuckle escaped him. His words made me smile, but there was something beneath the surface, an edge of melancholy that didn’t belong.
“I think we’ve all got a few cringeworthy notebooks hidden away. It’s like a rite of passage for aspiring musicians.”
His lips twisted before he muttered a barely audible “God, I hope no one ever finds mine. I’d never live it down.”
He took a deep breath and the tension melted from him.
“Anyway, enough about me.” He reached for my hand and threaded our fingers together. “I want to hear more about your delinquent childhood.”
I gasped. “I was no such thing.”
“Oh, so the watermelon theft was a one off?” He smirked when I stared at him speechless and unable to deny it. “I thought not. What else did you do?”
I sighed. “Fine, but if any of this gets back to my mother…” I glared at him, trying to be threatening and absolutely failing. “Fourth of July weekend, I was… eight I think, Cooper decided?—”
“Cooper again. Did it never occur to you that your cousin was trouble?”
I chuckled. “Every single time I got caught.”
“And you didn’t stop spending time with him?”
I shrugged. “He was fun until we got caught.”
Lewis shook his head.
“Do you want to hear the rest or are you going to keep interrupting me?”
He mimed zipping his lips.
“So it’s Fourth of July, and Cooper decided it would be a brilliant idea to set off fireworks from the top of my granddaddy’s tool shed.”
“Oh no,” Lewis groaned, dragging a hand across his face. “I think I see where this is going.”
“Do you?” My brows rose. He nodded. “You figured he’d set the roof on fire just from the mention of fireworks?”
He stared at me, shock widening his eyes. “I was expecting a different casualty. Jesus.”
“Not so predictable, am I?” I smirked.
Lewis shook his head. “What happened after he set the roof on fire?”
“Why, Granddaddy came running out of the house, hollering and cussing up a storm, of course. Poor Cooper just about pissed himself.” I grinned. “We all ended up sitting on the porch, drinking my mama’s sweet tea and watching the rest of the fireworks over the lake. It’s one of my favourite memories. The telling off and all.”
“That sounds really nice.” A wistful note entered his voice and he squeezed my hand. “The kind of memory that sticks with you.”
Yes, it is.
They also had a habit of sneaking up on me in my low moments, and there had been many over the years, making me forget exactly why I’d been so desperate to leave home. Of course, things always looked brighter the next day, but that didn’t stop the occasional pang of homesickness from taking root in my chest.
We turned a corner and the trail opened up to reveal a semi flat clearing. My breath caught, and not because we finally stopped and I could suck in some much needed air. No, nothing could have prepared me for the stunning panoramic view of the city below.
“It’s incredible,” I murmured. “Like we’re on top of the world.” Or the last people left on earth.
“That might be part of why I love it up here.” He shook his head sheepishly and placed the cooler on the ground.
He whipped a blanket out of his backpack and placed it on the grass while I stared at him in something akin to shock.
“What?” he asked when he caught me staring.
“Do this a lot, do you?”
He shrugged. “Every month or so.”
He started unpacking the cooler like it was perfectly normal, spreading out an impressive array of cheeses, fruit, crackers and wine. When it was all done, he sat and stared up at me expectantly.
“You really went all out,” I marvelled, settling down beside him.
He shrugged, pouring the wine into plastic cups. “Well, I figured if I was going to drag you up a mountain, the least I could do was provide a decent spread.”
I tapped my cup against his. “It’s perfect. All of it.”
For a while, we just sat together, sipping our wine and enjoying the food, the view, and the simple pleasure of each other’s company.
“This is…” I searched for the right words, “breathtaking.”
“Worth the hike?”
“Absolutely.” I turned to him. “But I have to ask, do you bring all the girls here?”
He chuckled. “I don’t know who you think I am, Liv, but I’m really not the serial dater the press claim.”
My brows climbed. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are there all these rumours about?—”
He sighed, the sound loud and frustrated. “Our manager thinks it hurts the band if we’re not living up to the stereotypes.”
I blinked. “What stereotypes would those be?”
“Somehow I think you know.”
“Maybe I do.” I shrugged, struggling to hold in my smile. “But then maybe I don’t and you should consider it a warning.”
“A warning?” He shook his head when I nodded. “The only warning you need is to stay away from Kevin, Carolina girl. If he can figure out a way to exploit you for the band’s benefit, he will.”
I’d been teasing, but Lewis’s tone took such a serious turn that the desire to smile evaporated. “Do I want to ask for specifics?”
“Let’s just say he’s not above using people’s personal lives as publicity fodder.” Lewis’s jaw clenched, a shadow crossing his face. “He once leaked photos of Alex stumbling out of a club, drunk off his ass, just to fuel the bad boy image. Didn’t matter that Alex was going through a rough patch, grieving his grandmother’s death. All Kevin saw was an opportunity.”
Staring into his sad eyes, a ball of dread settled in my belly.
“You know, this is my favourite part of the job,” Lewis said, his voice quiet as he gestured to our little oasis. “Not the picnics, though those are a perk. But the moments like this. Where we get to just… be. No crowds, no cameras. Just the music and the people who matter.”
“Is that what I am? Someone who matters?”
The look he gave me could have melted glaciers. “Liv, you… Fuck. You matter so much. More than I even have words for.”
Joy expanded inside of me, momentarily chasing away any grain of doubt or concern. I reached out, lacing my fingers through his. “You matter to me too.”
We smiled at each other, a little shyly. Then he took a deep breath, as if steeling himself.
Then his gaze returned to the view, a faraway look settling in his hazel eyes. He fiddled with the stem of his cup, looking for all the world like he was wrestling with something big.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just…” He blew out a breath, nodding. “Do you ever feel like…” He paused, searching for the words. “Like you’re living a dream, but you’re terrified you’ll wake up any second?”
“All the time. Especially since Lily offered me this tour. It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?”
“Exactly.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I keep thinking, what if I screw it up? What if I let everyone down? The band, the fans…” His gaze met mine, vulnerable and raw. “You.”
I shuffled towards him on the blanket.
Our thighs pressed together, the heat of his body seeping into mine. I pried his fist open to thread our fingers together. He smiled at the contact.
“Hey,” I said softly, squeezing his hand. “You could never let me or the band down. You’re an incredible musician. An incredible person.”
His eyes searched mine. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I put every ounce of conviction I possessed into the single word. “We’re all scared sometimes. It’s part of the journey. But I’ve seen you on stage, I’ve heard your songs. You were born for this.”
A slow smile spread across his face, gratitude and affection warring in his eyes. “How do you do that? Make everything seem brighter?”
I shrugged, a blush heating my cheeks. “It’s a gift.”
He laughed, the sound warm and rich.
We lapsed into a comfortable silence, our gazes drawn back to the sprawling city below. I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss to my hair, the simple gesture sending a flutter through my belly.
“Thank you,” he murmured after a moment. “For listening. For understanding.”
“Always.” I meant it with every fibre of my being. “You know, you’re not alone in this,” I said after a beat, tracing patterns on his knee with my free hand. “The fear, the doubts… I feel them too. Wondering if I’m good enough, if I deserve to be here.”
With a finger beneath my chin, he tipped my head back, staring down at me, his brow furrowed. “Of course you deserve to be here. You’re phenomenal.”
I ducked my head, breaking his grip, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I’m trying to believe that. But it’s hard sometimes, you know? To quiet that little voice in the back of your head that whispers ‘you’re an imposter’.”
“I know that voice well. But I also know it lies.” He tilted my chin up again, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You, Liv Monroe, are a force to be reckoned with. And I can’t wait for the world to see it.”
A lump of emotion caught in my throat. “When I’m with you, I feel like I can take on anything.”
“Good.” He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to my nose. “Because I plan on being there every step of the way, cheering you on.”
We settled back into easy conversation, swapping stories and dreams. Lewis told me more about his early days with the band, the dive bars and cramped vans, the thrill of hearing their song on the radio for the first time.
“You know, I… I don’t usually talk about my music like that. With such…” I paused, searching for the right word.
“Passion?”
“Vulnerability,” I corrected. “Outside, my mama and my best friend, folks back home, they don’t really get it. This drive, this need, to make something that touches people.”
Lewis nodded, understanding etched into every line of his face. “It’s like breathing. Like your whole heart, poured out in notes and words.”
“Yes,” I breathed, the single syllable imbued with gratitude and relief. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”
“Well, then.” He brought our joined hands to his lips, ghosting a kiss across my knuckles. “Seems to me this is your time to shine, songbird. To touch those people. To change lives with that voice of yours.”
A rush of fear and excitement swirled in my gut at the thought. “God, I hope so. I hope I’m ready.”
“You are,” he said with bedrock conviction. “And I’ll be right there beside you. Your own proud peacock.”
Laughter bubbled up, bright and cleansing. “I like the sound of that.”
“What about your family?” Lewis asked after a beat, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. “Tell me about them.”
I leaned back on my free hand, thinking of home. “Well, it’s just been me, Dustin and my mama for as long as I can remember. She’s a force of nature. Worked two jobs to support us and put me through music lessons.”
Lewis smiled. “Sounds like a hell of a woman.”
“She is,” I agreed, pride swelling in my chest. “She’s my rock. Never let me give up on my dreams.”
“And the rest of your family?”
I smiled, thinking of my tight-knit community back in Jasmine Bay. The friends who might as well be family. “It’s a small town, so everyone’s all up in each other’s business. But they show up for you, you know? Potlucks, block parties, cheering way too loud at my high school talent shows.” A chuckle escaped my lips at the vivid memory of Aunt Nancy’s ear-splitting whistles from the front row.
Lewis grinned. “Sounds like a nice place to grow up.”
“It was. Is.” I sighed. “Sometimes I worry about losing touch with that, though. My roots. With all the craziness of this new life.”
“Hey.” Lewis squeezed my hand. “That’s a part of you, Liv. It’s in the twang of your voice, the soul in your songs, the kindness in your heart. Nothing can change that.”
In that moment, staring into his eyes, I couldn’t have turned away even if I’d wanted to. He drew me like a magnet, sparking a bond stronger than music, deeper than attraction. If I believed in soulmates, he would be it.
Slowly, Lewis reached out, tucking a windblown strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered, tracing the curve of my cheek. He leaned closer, gaze dropping to my lips. We’d done this a million times now, but still my breath hitched, heartbeat thundering in my ears.
Just as I let my eyes flutter shut, a strange whirring sound filled the air, growing rapidly louder.
My eyes flew open as Lewis jerked back, eyebrows knitted, head swivelling to locate the source. “What the…”
Lewis stiffened as a helicopter with the local news station’s logo crested the treetops, its bulky cameras pointed directly at us.
“Shit,” he bit out, his jaw clenched tight.
The sudden intrusion jarred me from the intimate moment. I instinctively pressed closer to Lewis.
“What’s happening? Why are they here?” I had to shout to be heard over the noise.
Lewis’s arm tightened around me, his body tense. He didn’t answer, instead he hauled me flush against his chest, one hand cupping the back of my head to tuck my face into his neck. I squeaked in surprise, my hands braced against the solid wall of his chest, his pine and spice scent enveloping me.
His body tensed as the chopper passed over us, the rumble of its blades filling the air. We stayed frozen, hardly daring to breathe, for a long, weighted minute.
Finally, the whirring began to recede, the aircraft moving off. Lewis remained rigid for a few beats longer before loosening his hold with a shaky exhale.
“I’m sorry about that,” he whispered into my hair. “Bloody vultures.”
“Does that… happen a lot?”
He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “More than I’d like. The price of fame, or so they say.”
“What’ll happen if they got a shot?”
“It’ll be sold to every tabloid in existence, and their above-the-fold story tomorrow will be about Lewis Davies’s latest woman.”
I bit my lip, an icy shard of dread lodging in my belly. Would that have been a bad thing?
“Have you… have you told your bandmates? About us?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. I know those wankers. They’re the worst at keeping secrets.”
A mischievous grin spread across his face. “Plus, it’s way more fun watching them try to figure it out.”