Liam’s acting smoother than he’d been in the car, but that’s one of his forever traits: steadiness under pressure. Striking out the opposing team’s best batter. Fixing the faulty amp ten minutes before the show. Securing a good first impression from his “girlfriend’s” family.
“You look a bit like that guy fromEntourage,” Hailey says. She tugs at one of Liam’s dark, wide curls. “It’s the hair.”
“You look a bit like Tinker Bell,” Liam says. “Also the hair.”
“My fiancée,” Hailey says, looking at Candice with iridescence, “is the best hairstylist on this side of River North.”
“Just this side?” Candice reaches for Hailey’s stiff jacket collar and helps her shrug out of it.
“If you claim the whole city, you’ll create enemies,” Hailey warns.
Candice nods in agreement, and they are absolutely not joking, which is delightful.
This place, more than any other, reminds me of my childhood home. When Dad packed up and sold the Bristol house, Candiceand Hailey claimed most of the furniture and drove it up here when they first rented this townhouse. That couch, those antique frames, the artwork Folly did for her senior portfolio that hung in our entryway and now hangs in theirs. It’s a hand-drawn map of Bristol to Lancaster (the United Kingdom’s version).
We head through the entryway to the kitchen, Hailey mumbling something about a cocktail, and then my eyes catch on Folly and Harry, grinning like Cheshire cats.
I shriek as they shout “Surprise!” tackling me in a group hug. Harry laughs with delight and Folly cackles maniacally. Immediately, my eyes snag on her rounded belly.
“Oh my God!” I squeal, my hand shaking as it goes to her stomach.
“It was Liam’s idea!” Folly says.
“The pregnancy?”
“The surprise!” she screams.
“I only suggested.” Liam comes up beside me to hug Folly and shake hands with Harry. “The execution was all them.”
Whatever the opposite of claustrophobia is, that’s how I feel. Packed in and surrounded in the best possible way. As if love is stretchy, as if it can travel far from you without ever leaving for good, but it can also be snapped back to halo you for a while.
The energy in the room sizzles while Hailey pours us batched cocktails that taste like summer. We migrate up to their rooftop for a picnic-style dinner.
Liam is the focus of everyone’s attention; he barely eats as he explains his job, the flow of the tour, how it’s been so far, what he’s still up against. And he answers like a pro.This venue’s load-in dock is basically nonexistent, andthat manager is known to disregard the band riders, andthe security contract at this place has no provisions for attendees with heat exhaustion.
“Paige has been great with it all,” Liam says, hand going to my knee. “She’s helpful and kind and patient, and everybody loves her.”
“Of course they do,” Folly says, sipping at the dregs of her mocktail. “She’slikethem, isn’t she?”
“Penelope Parker’s band is not helpful or patient,” Liam says, and I laugh.
“Though they are usually kind,” I offer.
I catch Candice’s eye. There’s something she wants to ask me, but she won’t bring it up in front of the others. I doubt Folly would’ve kept it from Candice, how my presence on Liam’s tour came to be.
Candice has always been the purest hearted of us. I imagine she has an opinion on the matter.
“How’s the songwriting going?” Harry asks.
I nod while everyone falls hushed. The sun is finally gone and the night’s cooled off considerably, but the shiver that runs through me is pure discomfort. I push through it like I’ve learned to do. Harry isn’t asking to embarrass me in front of my family; he’s asking because they’re all proud, because they all genuinely want to know.
“Really good. I’ve written a bunch of new stuff. Being around the other songwriters is like, this huge creative injection.”
Harry nods, his smile curving. “And the rewrites?”
I blow out a breath. “Less progress on those.”
But I’ve been playing one song a day during sound checks, most of them without lyrics at all, and Penelope, Misha, Gretta, and Henrietta said once we get through them, they’d each pick a favorite to work on.
