A Rocker and a Hard Place (11 page)

Tyler lived a few miles from the restaurant and the houses got progressively nicer the closer we got to his house. The driver stopped at an iron gate and punched in the code that Tyler gave him. We rolled forward, down a long driveway.

“You live in a museum?” I teased.

His house was obnoxiously big.

“Funny.”

He helped me out the car, keeping my hand as he led me to the front door.
I noted that his hand shook a little as he fit the key into the lock, but I pretended not to notice. I remembered how anxious I had felt the first time I let him into my home, so I could understand what he was feeling.

“Come inside,” he said, pulling me forward.

I had been joking about his house being a museum, but I hadn’t been far off. With marble floors and vaulted ceilings, it was a stark contrast to my little shack back in Salvation.

Our feet echoed loudly with each step. Tyler gave me a grand tour, glancing nervously at me every few seconds. I got the impression that he wanted me to approve of his home.

“It’s a beautiful home, Ty,” I said as we climbed the stairs to the second floor.

“It’s just a house,” he said, but I could tell he didn’
t mean it.

“How many bedrooms does it have?”

“Seven.” He smiled sheepishly. “I know that’s a little crazy considering that I live here alone. But when I bought this place, I assumed one day it would fill up.”

I couldn’t fault him for thinking about a future family when he bought the place. “Why didn’t you ever get married, Tyler? Surely you’ve had plenty of respectable suitors.”

“Respectable?” He laughed. “Not the word I would use for the girls that throw their panties on my stage.”

“Still… not even one lucky lady?”

Truthfully, I had gotten close to remarrying a couple of times. Neither guy had been the love of my life, but eventually you got tired of being alone while you waited for Prince Charming to come along. The only reason I hadn’t gone through with it was because of T.J. If I did decide to bring a man into our lives, I wanted to be sure it was the right man.

Tyler hadn’t had the same concern over the years
, so it was surprising that he had been so cautious.

“It might be hard to believe, but I’m not exactly the marrying kind.” Tyler opened a door and stepped inside.

“That’s not true.” I followed him into the room. “Do you have a recording studio in your house?”

“A small one.” Another sheepish grin. “I record different versions of songs and listen to them before I go into the real studio.”

I took a slow lap around the room, running my hands over the expensive looking equipment. “Is this a new song?” I asked, picking up a notebook with lyrics scratched in Tyler’s penmanship.

“It’s not finished yet,” he explained. “I got stuck about halfway through.”

“May I?” I waited for his permission to take a closer look.

“Knock yourself out.”

He perched on the arm of the worn leather chair while I sank into its seat. The lyrics at the beginning of the song were strong, but the passion started to fade near the middle.

“You need a stronger bridge,” I said, reaching for a pen. “And the last line of this verse is a little weird.”

“Weird?”

“Maybe I’m missing something. Can you run through it for me?”

Tyler crossed the room and picked up a guitar. As he started playing the song, I realized that my critique had been wrong. What looked weak on paper, actually sounded just right. But the song still needed an ending and now that we had started, neither of us would be able to stop until it was finished. By the time we were done, it was almost dark outside.

“What time is it?” Tyler’s head snapped up in alarm.

“Um, just after six.” I was surprised when he jumped to his feet. “Why?”

“We need to go.”

“Go where?” I had just assumed that Tyler’s house was the last stop on our tour of Nashville.

Tyler refused to tell me where we were going next.
We got into the limo and headed back the way we had come. As we drove, I felt a weird sense of déjà vu.

“Why does this seem familiar to me?”

“Because you’ve been here before,” was his reply.

I craned my neck to see as much as possible through the window.
It wasn’t until I saw the purple and gold sign that I realized where we were headed.

“Lyric? It’s still here?”

That hole in the wall auditorium where we had played our first gig. I had only been there once, but I would never forget that place.

“It’s one of the hottest places to play in the city.” Tyler opened the door when the wheels stopped, too excited to wait. We were still a few yards away from the main door.

“Who’s playing tonight?” I looked at the sign but it only said “Special Performance.” A long line of people had already formed.

“Me.” Tyler grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the side of the building. “Hurry up. We need to get inside before someone sees us.”

A security guard let us in via a side door and we were escorted to the dressing room by a woman with a clipboard. With a brief introduction she informed us that her name was Lily.

“You’ll go on in thirty minutes. We managed to sell out even on such short notice.” She batted her lashes at Tyler. “I can’t say I’m surprised about that.”

“How long have you had this performance planned?” I hurried to keep up with them as Lily marched purposefully down a long hall.

“I called my agent Saturday night. Lyric is usually closed on Mondays so the venue was free. My agent was able to arrange it quite easily.”

Lily threw open the door. “Here you go. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll come to get you when it’s show time.”

She continued to stare at Tyler long past an acceptable amount of time. I glared at her until she finally walked away.

“Your face looks a little green,” Tyler said.

“Green?”

“You know. With jealousy?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, that’s it.
I’m jealous.”

“Don’t try to deny it. You know you wanted to slap her with that clipboard.” Tyler stepped aside to let me enter the room.

“I’m not a violent woman.” I eyed the room carefully, then took a seat on the sleek, white couch.

Tyler wasn’t going to let it go. “I’m pretty sure I remember you get
ting into more than one fight when we were growing up.”

“Name one time?”

“The time you threw a glass of punch on Kara Tanner’s head after she tried to kiss me at the Homecoming dance? Does that sound familiar?”

“I don’t think that was me.”

I actually did remember that fight quite well. Kara had always been a nightmare, and it had felt good watching the pink liquid run down her face.

“What about that time you punched Mike Lewis?”

“I was defending your honor!”

Tyler laughed. “Face it,
Em- you have a temper.”

I crossed my arms stubbornly over my chest. “Only when it comes to people messing with you, apparently. I haven’t gotten in any fights in the last decade and I doubt that’s a coincidence.”

Tyler’s smile was tight. He had been slowly pacing the room since we entered and I could tell that he was tense.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m always tense before a show.” He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “I used to have a couple of drinks to fix that, but…”

“Come over here.” I patted the seat next to me.

Tyler hesitated, but he took a seat.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and very slowly began to work his knotted muscles with my fingers. His head dropped forward and he sighed.

“You’re good at this. I forgot.”

“I thought you said you remembered everything about me?”

“I thought that I did.”

It was strange to realize that you could have an intense history with someone but still not know everything about them.

Neither of us spoke for the next several minutes. I continued to work on Tyler’s shoulders and neck until someone pounded on the door. We both jumped like we had been caught doing something untoward.

“Thanks,” Tyler said, clearing his throat. He called out, “Come in.”

Lily was back, clipboard still in hand. “Show time, Cole.”

The casual way that she called Tyler by his last name curled my lip into a sneer. Tyler patted my knee knowingly and stood.

“Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand.

I slipped mine inside and déjà vu took over once again. As we walked toward the stage, I remembered being in that exact hallway with Tyler almost fifteen years ago. I’d had to take his hand then, just to get him to take the stage.

This time, we stopped at the wings and he gestured to a seat in the front row. “For you,” he explained. Then his kissed my cheek softly and whispered in my ear, “This is all for you.”

He stepped away and I moved toward the seat with shaky legs. Once I was in place, he moved confidently to the center of the stage and picked up his guitar, throwing the strap over his head. A few adjustments and he reached for the microphone.

“Hello, Nashville,” he said, sending the crowd into a hysterical frenzy.

Thunderous applause and deafening screaming rained down. It seemed to go on forever and I watched as Tyler smiled shyly. I couldn’t believe that the same boy that hadn’t been able to raise his hand in class due to shyness could now perform on a stage in front of thousands of people. I felt an immense sense of pride as he began to play his first song and everyone in the audience began to sing along with him.

For most of the songs, Tyler refrained from looking in my direction. But every now and then, he would sing a lyric that I knew had been written for me, or about me, and his eyes would find mine. A few of his fans on either side of me seemed to notice the special attention because they began to point and whisper.

I tried to sink lower in my seat, uncomfortable with their curiosity. Finally, one of them leaned over.

“Do you know him?” she asked, sounding irritated.

I just nodded, hoping that if I didn’t make eye contact she would go away.
Instead, two more girls moved closer.

“Are you two dating?” One of them yelled.

My eyes darted around, looking uselessly for a way out. On stage, Tyler noticed something was amiss and he waved a stagehand over. After a few words, the man descended the stage and came over to me.

“Tyler asked me to get you,” he explained, speaking loudly over the music.

I was happy to hurry along behind him, away from the threatening women, until I realized that he was taking me on stage. Numbly, I took the microphone that was shoved in front of my face.

“I h
ave a special guest with me tonight,” Tyler said between songs. “Not only is she my favorite songwriting partner, she’s also an old friend.”

He paused for a beat, catching my eyes. With the flick of a hand he waved me over, then returned to strumming on his guitar. I recognized the harmony.

With my eyes, I told Tyler this was a bad idea. He grabbed my arm and pulled me close.

“You can do this,” he whispered in my ear. “I’ll be right beside you.”

Nervously, I glanced at the audience. With the bright lights shining down, it was hard to see beyond the first few rows, but I knew that every seat was filled with a body. I could see my former seatmates glaring angrily at me and my hand started to shake.

“Emma. Just look at me.”

So I did. I kept my eyes locked onto Tyler’s reassuring face and my breathing slowly began to return to normal. Once he saw that I wasn’t going to have a panic attack, Tyler said into the mic, “This song is called
My Salvation
.”

Y
ou were there from the beginning

Long before the stardom

You were there before the money and the fame

You were my
salvation
.

Now it was my turn. Tyler made it look so easy. He seemed completely unfazed by the hot lights and screaming fans. I did what he told me to do- I kept my eyes on him.

You came along right when I needed you

Never asking for anything in return

You were all I ever wanted and more

You were my salvation.

Tyler smiled encouragingly and his eyes were so bright, I no longer even wanted to look at anyone or anything but him.

Together, we sang the chorus.

The first, the best, the last

My life’s greatest passion

The good, the bad, the great

You were
my salvation.

The rest of the lyrics flowed so smoothly, like we had practiced this moment a million times. Our bodies swayed in perfect synchronization, moving closer and closer together with every line. By the time we hit the last refrain, I was shocked to hear the entire audience singing along