Rock My Love: A Steamy Standalone Instalove
“I understand.” Dad nods. “But that doesn’t mean we had to sell ourselves to the first people who came knocking.”
“But what harm has come of it, Dad?” I ask. “Aaron – and all the other band members – they all give lots to charity. They even paid to have a music school built near the restaurant where I work. I can’t see the bad in that.”
“They’re owned by the record label. That’s what’s bad. We could’ve stuck to our guns and made something unique, something that was just ours. We could’ve changed the system.”
I’m used to this sort of talk from my dad.
He’s never hidden his feelings about politics, but normally we’re not talking about the man of my dreams, the man I can’t imagine living without.
“Okay, fine,” I say. “Let’s say that’s true, Dad. Let’s say you could have changed the system. But that’s not how things worked out. I don’t see how holding a grudge for all these years is productive or healthy or… or anything positive, honestly. I’m sorry. I love you. But I think you’re in the wrong here.”
“They took it to a vote. All three of them agreed to the record deal. So I know you’re right, sweetness. I know it was fair. But I also know I hate it, hate that things went down that way. I also know that Aaron knew how much I cared about this issue, and he decided to ignore me anyway. He could’ve stuck by me, the same way I stuck by him in the early days. I used some of my stepdad’s money to fund our band.”
“I thought it wasn’t about money,” I mutter.
He looks up, a fleeting smile on his face. “You’re right. I know. But he was my best friend. We haven’t spoken in years. We didn’t leave things on good terms.”
“So why take me to the concert?” I persist. “Especially backstage. Surely you knew there was a chance – no matter how small – that he would see you, or me.”
“Sure, but I didn’t think he’d kiss you.”
“I warned against this whole thing,” Mom says, standing slowly. “I’m exhausted and I’ve got work in the morning. Andy, for the record, I think you should give Billie’s blessing to follow whatever path she chooses. And for what it’s worth, Billie, you already have mine.”
Mom kisses me on the forehead as she leaves, dad and I staring across at each other.
“Billie, all I can do is ask you, as my daughter, to please stay away from him. I don’t want anything to do with him. I don’t want him in our lives. Please.”
My hands ball into fists when I see the genuine sadness in his eyes, a rare sight where my dad is concerned. Anger, determination, love, yes… but sadness? His eyes are glimmering.
That deep-within place tells me no, I can’t agree to this. There’s no freaking way I can promise dad I’m going to stay away from Aaron, especially now that – if dad’s right – he drove all this way just to possibly catch a glimpse of me.
Is it possible he’s as obsessed as I am? Is it possible this isn’t all some crazy dream?
“Please.” Dad walks across the room, sits next to me, and takes both my hands in his. “You can find somebody else. I’m begging here, Billie.”
“I won’t see him. I’ll stay away.”
I swallow, wondering if I just lied to my dad.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Aaron
“What’s up with you, bro?”
Its Jeremiah, the oldest member of the band apart from me. He became our drummer just after Andy and I turned eighteen. His voice is gruff over the phone, but underneath it, I sense some concern. He’s never been big on showing emotions, but there’s no denying it’s there.
I lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, my body still tense from my latest workout. It’s been two days since I stupidly drove to Billie’s apartment, two days since I caught a fleeting glimpse of her, two days since the argument.
“It’s about a girl,” I mutter.
“Oh yeah? The one you kissed at the concert?”
“That’s right.”
“Well… what about her?”
“She’s Andy’s daughter.”
There’s a pause. I can practically see Jeremiah knitting his eyebrows, rubbing his hands together in confusion. “Andy, as in used-to-be-our-guitarist, Andy?”
“That’s the one.”
“Jesus, man. That’s insane.”
“I didn’t know at the time. She was just there. I saw him the other night and he basically told me he’d kill me if I ever touched her. And I know he’s in the right. She’s his daughter and he has the right to protect her. But I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“As in… you want to be with her, in a relationship? I’ve never known you to casually hook up.”
“You’ve never known me to be in a relationship either,” I joke.
He laughs. “Yeah, true.”
“But yeah, that’s it. I don’t want a casual thing with her. I don’t know how to describe it. I’ve been singing about never being able to find the woman of my dreams for years. I believed it, every word, every show. But now I’m not so sure. There was a connection, a spark, something… I know how that sounds.”