My Unexpected Forever (Beaumont 2)

“Listen. I had a crush on you. I went to your show, got backstage and met you. I bought you a drink and we ended up here. I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

“What are you thinking about, dad?”

I blink a few times, wondering why I was remembering the day he came to me.

“Not much, bud. We should probably get going.” He nods and climbs off the bed. I watch as he moves around the room with ease. He’s so used to this life and I sort of hate that for him.

WE arrive at the venue in time for sound check. The artist who is opening for us finishes as we arrive. The kid shakes our hands, raves about our music and goes on and on about how thankful he is. I leave Liam and Katelyn to talk to him, although I want Katelyn to come with me. I could show her how to play the drums, while she sits on my lap. I hate what she’s wearing. Her skirt is shorter and her shirt is one of our band shirts. I want to tear it to shreds so I can get to what she’s hiding underneath and that skirt would look fine on my floor or up around her waist.

I start my sound check, playing a few of the first few bars of our songs so Tyler can figure everything out. This will be his first major gig and I’d like to make sure it goes off without a hitch.

Liam finally joins us on stage and starts going through his list of requirements. He sings the first verse of each song on our set list for tonight. For the most part sound check goes fairly well. It was Tyler who didn’t like the way a few of the songs sounded, but the adjustments were made and we finished in time for the doors to open.

I walk out front and check in with Luke at the merchandise table. I hadn’t had an opportunity to see everything that Katelyn ordered for our shows. We have the standard band shirts with our new album cover, keychains, lanyards and five different images of me, Liam and JD. This is new, usually it’s just been Liam on the images, but now it’s all three of us. I have to say I like that she’s included JD and me.

I look up when my name is called. A few girls start coming toward me, but it’s not them who catch my attention, it’s Katelyn. She’s looking for me.

I can’t help but grin from ear to ear as I walk toward her.

I should have an IV drip of coffee inserted deep into my veins today. I don’t know if I can do this. Liam made everything sound so easy and yet here I am about to jump off a cliff because I haven’t a clue as to what’s going on.

At first, when I opened the dressing room door, I thought this was normal. This being red roses everywhere. We are talking on every surface. I thought this venue was just being nice. A bit over the top – yes – but ass-kissing nice nonetheless.

That was until I heard the yelling, followed by the breaking of glass. I’ve never been in a violent home. My father dotes on my mother who would rather have something on her body lifted than to raise her voice. And Mason, he never raised his voice unless he was yelling at the TV. So this bone-chilling sensation running down my spine is rather unnerving and honestly, I’m a little freaked out and afraid to open the door.

I breathe in deeply and try to center myself. If it’s Peyton or Elle yelling on the other side of the door, I can handle it for the most part because I know what is causing their turmoil, but Liam… I can’t fathom.

The sight before me is pure anguish. Liam is throwing vase after vase against the wall, a string of profanities accompanying each shattering vase. Josie has her hands up begging him to stop. And me… I’m standing in the room not knowing what to do.

Jimmy runs by me, stepping in front of Liam and pushing him back into the chair. Josie rushes over to him, crying. She holds him like something has hurt him purposely.

“Katelyn, go and find Harrison,” Jimmy says, heavily, clearly out of breath.

I look at Liam and Josie; neither of them are paying attention to me and then back at Jimmy who signals for me to go. I turn and leave, holding my clipboard to my chest, while I try and figure out where in the hell I can find Harrison.

I search the stage. I ask Tyler if he’s seen him. I knock on DeVon’s door; he’s not there. The bathroom turns up nothing. He’s not in the greenroom with the kids, but Quinn says he likes to see what the fans are buying. Lovely. I take Quinn’s advice and finally head out to the concourse and see him immediately. You can’t miss the beanie, it doesn’t matter what color it is, I’d spot it anywhere.

“Harrison,” I say, not loudly enough. I guess I’m secretly hoping he won’t hear me and I can go back to Jimmy and tell him to find Harrison himself, but he turns, as do the heads of the women near him. He’s probably getting their phone numbers for later.

He keeps his head down when he walks toward me. For the briefest second I want him to look up so I can see his green eyes. Or are they blue today? I shake my head. I can’t believe I even know that about him. That’s crossing so many lines. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to cross any line, especially with him.

Harrison stops in front of me. His hands are pushed into the pockets of his cargo shorts. He’s wearing black combat boots today, they are unlaced and if this was Peyton I’d be on my knees tying them up for her. His black non-descript shirt accentuates his defined biceps. He’s not built like Mason. Mason was muscular, always working out. He didn’t need to flex to show off his muscles, they were there for everyone to see. Mason would have never covered his body in ink. Not like Harrison. I can’t see the skin on his arms without seeing ink. No, Harrison is nothing like Mason.

At the last moment, he looks up and I wish he hadn’t because now I don’t know what to say. His eyes, they’re baby blue with a hint of green today and are being overshadowed by his long eyelashes. I can’t look at him; when I do, I can’t think and I need to think.

I shake my head and rub my temple.

“Are you okay?” he asks and I wish that he didn’t. I don’t want him to talk, not right now.

“Jimmy said to get you. I don’t know what happened, but Liam, he’s upset and throwing the vases against the wall.”

Harrison looks down the corridor and back at me. I know he’s curious, but I don’t have the answers for him. I’ve honestly never seen Liam like that and only read about divas and their dressing rooms. I didn’t expect Liam to be one.

Harrison motions for me to go, but I shake my head. I don’t want him behind me. I fumble too much when he’s around and I don’t know why. I certainly don’t want to snag my heel on a step and fall on my face. I’ll gladly walk behind him.

And now that I’m behind him, I wish I wasn’t. I’m staring. I can’t help it. Once again the tattoo on his calf is begging for me to look at it. My mind wants to know what it is, but my mouth is definitely not going to ask. If the two of those would get in sync I’d greatly appreciate it.

We arrive at their dressing room. Harrison doesn’t knock. I suppose he doesn’t really have to, does he? He swings the door open with a, “What the fuck are you doing?” blurting out too loudly for my taste.