“It’s never had as much of a test.”
“Good to know.” He made no effort to move. “I enjoyed my massage, by the way. Might have to book you for another.”
I gave in to something I knew I was fighting and wrapped my arms around him. He collapsed a little, his head between my shoulder and jaw, his arms still braced so his weight didn’t crush me.
“I might let you. I have a high price though.”
“Here we go. What terms are we changing now?”
“I want to see you perform.”
16
Liam
Roisin looked at me with wide eyes as she read through the lyrics. It was meant to be a collaboration, but after spending five days with her in Iceland, it was clear the collaboration was going to happen with whatever extra personalities I could conjure up and not her.
“This is really good. Have you done the music too?”
“Yep.” The urge to toss her out of here was strong.
“Can I hear you sing it?”
“Nope.” I was in a foul mood. “I’ll play the melody and you can work it out. Maybe add something of you into it.”
The foul mood had haunted me for the last few days. I’d gone home with Sophie after sleeping with her in her spa. I’d stayed over. She’d cooked me breakfast and we’d talked about how she started up her business and I told her about the early days of the band.
I felt something different.
I didn’t do relationships. Getting married was because it ticked a number of boxes – the perfect recording studio; the perfect cover for stepping away from the rock and roll image I’d cultivated for the last decade and a bit; the perfect way to appease my sisters into thinking I’d finally settled down and found what they had.
It wasn’t because I actually liked the woman I was marrying. I knew I was as much of a convenience for her as she was for me.
Only Sunday had changed that and I couldn’t get my head round it. I hadn’t been broken-hearted since a carer had quit the home where I’d been living when I was ten. Marissa had been beautiful and kind and everything I’d crushed on. When she told me she had a new job I’d cried in my room that night. The following day I trashed the place and they served notice – it wasn’t the first time I’d caused damage.
Sophie couldn’t be Marissa.
Roisin sat next to me at the piano. We were meeting at the label’s headquarters. They had rehearsal rooms and her dad had asked me to do extra to get her singing with something like grit in her voice. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make good on that agreement – it was all going to depend on how well she could act.
“These lyrics are good. Who are they about?”
I didn’t bother looking at her. The lyrics were meant to be from a pissed off woman.
“A character in a book. Ready?”
She nodded. I started to play. Saw her lips moving as she grasped the melody. She did have musical talent and I’d heard enough to know that her voice was excellent. If she could get her head out of her arse and live like a normal person for five minutes she might have something genuine to sing about.
“You’re not the man I need
Not the man I asked you to be
You push me away, push me away
All you say you want is to be free.”
The lyrics were simple, written for Roisin’s voice and the depth it had that was anything but simple. We went through it again for a second time, with her starting to sing, adding twists where I needed to change the music because she did give it something extra.
“These are great. I wish I could write like you.” She looked at me with huge eyes that seemed to be begging for something.
