Liam nudges my arm and I bolt up.

  “What?”

  “We’re landing soon. You gotta buckle up.”

  Oh. Stretching out the knots in the top of my back, I buckle my belt.

  “I slept the whole journey?”

  Squeezing my eyes closed, I open them to rid them of the lingering sleep.

  “It’s not like you got much sleep last night.”

  His satisfied smirk is back, and I roll my eyes.

  Before I know it, the plane is landing and we’re walking through the airport to collect our luggage. Liam carries my bag as well as his own, and I stick close to him as he lowers his baseball cap down on his forehead.

  “I can’t say if you’ll love it here, because I honestly can’t remember if I did,” he mumbles once we’re on the escalator.

  “I’m sure you did. Why would you stick around if you didn’t?”

  “Because of the music?”

  “Nah, I don’t think so. You were king of the assholes. You wouldn’t have stayed here if you hated it.”

  “I’m the king of all assholes now?”

  “Babe, you always were.”

  Babe? Fuck that slip of the tongue.

  Thankfully, he doesn’t go on about it, and when we reach the bottom of the escalator, a guy in a tight blue shirt and holey jeans is waiting for us. Liam holds his hand out, and the guy claps his to Liam’s before pulling him in for a man hug.

  “It’s fucking good to see ya, Harris.” He then turns to me. “And you must be the wife.”

  The old me would’ve flinched at his tone, but the me now plasters on a fuck you smile and holds out her hand.

  “Jimmy. A pleasure, I’m sure.”

  He shakes my hand, but releases it quickly, which is fine by me. I’m here so I can stay close to Liam and ruin his life. I don’t need his manager to like or accept me.

  The pace is brisk as we follow him out to the parking lot, and I’m thankful when Liam climbs in the back with me rather than up front with Jimmy.

  “You remember anything now that you’re back?”

  “I’ve only just got here,” Liam snaps at him.

  His mood has soured in a matter of seconds, but it doesn’t seem to bother Jimmy. He prattles on for the forty-minute drive without much input from Liam, and certainly none from me.

  Stopping outside a huge set of wooden gates, he leans out the window to punch a code into the security panel.

  “Is this where you live?”

  Liam drags himself from wherever he went to in his head and looks out the window. “Must be.” Leaning forward, he asks Jimmy, “So what do I need to sign?” while I take in the long drive leading to an impressive mansion.

  Christ, I really could’ve gotten a decent settlement if I had divorced him. I love my house, but this is where he’s been living, while I’ve been watching every penny I spend. He really didn’t give two shits about me.

  “It’s nothing, really, but the label wants their face-to-face at Daya’s tonight. You can bring Gabriella. I’ll arrange a driver to pick you up.”

  I don’t bother saying goodbye. I throw open my door and climb out, raising my hand to shield my eyes from the sun as I try to count how many windows are on the front of the house.

  This is ridiculous.

  How I ever believed Liam wanted to rent a cheap one-bedroom apartment in an average college town is beyond me. This was his dream all along, and I’ll be damned if he fulfilled it.

  Inside is even more impressive. The marble floor in the entryway is buffed so clean, I can make out my reflection. Huge pieces of colourful art of musicians and musical instruments are hanging on every inch of the walls, and I slowly twirl around, trying to picture him living here.

  I’m so caught up with the grandeur, I don’t see Liam hovering in the doorway, staring at the stairs.

  “Aren’t you coming in?”

  “Yeah.” He drops our bags on the floor, kicking the door shut behind him.

  “So, has anything come back?”

  He shakes his head. I can feel his frustration from here.

  “It’s a nice place. You had no idea how to be husband, but your skills apparently lie in interior decorating.”

  He tries to smile, to find the fun in my teasing, but he’s struggling. It’s like he’s afraid to be in his own home.

  “Let’s a take a tour,” I offer, and that seems to relax him.

  I had no idea a house could have so many doors. There are a bazillion bedrooms, and a bazillion bathrooms to go with them. A study is filled with hundreds of books. I know for a fact Liam hasn’t picked up a single one of them, let alone read one. There’s a home gym with a sauna and hot tub. Down in what normal people call a basement is a tricked out recording studio. Outside, the pool is the focal point, with loungers lining the length of the water.

  “It’s a good thing I didn’t take you to the cleaners. You might not have been able to afford all this,” I joke.

  Yet again, he frowns.

  “It doesn’t feel like home at all,” he admits.

  “Give it time, Liam. Once you have your memories back, it’ll be home again.”

  A part of me doesn’t want him to agree, because then he’ll leave town. But a bigger part of me is fishing for him to say he wants to stay in Oak Hill, that our hometown is his real home, just so when I hurt him, the sting is permanent.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Liam

  Staring down at the black silk sheets, I can’t fathom why I needed to purchase such a big bed. I mean, it’s so ostentatious. Hell, it’s ridiculous. Even if I were to share this bed with Gabriella tonight, I’d say over ninety percent of it would go unused. And how much did I spend on this contraption?

  “Liam?”

  Gabriella hovers in the doorway, and I dig my nails into my palms to remind myself to breathe. She’s rocking a little black dress with her boots, her beauty blowing me away.

  An image of her wearing a black dress with converse sneakers flashes in my mind, and then it’s gone. It has to be another memory returning, or did I see it on one of the recordings? It doesn’t matter. She’s on fire tonight.

  “Are you ready? It’s nearly eight.”

  I glance down at my black shirt, ripped black jeans, half-laced boots, and a leather jacket. I just hope I’m good enough to be seen with her.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.”

  She steps deeper into the room. “Were you staring at your bed before I came in?”

  I chuckle. “Yeah. I was wondering what possessed me to buy it, it’s so big.”

  “That’ll probably have something to do with all the women you brought back here.”

  The thought of that repulses me.

  “Don’t do that. I don’t want to remember that shit.”

  I don’t understand how she can joke about me being with other women so easily. I can barely think about her with other guys without anger coursing through my veins.

  “There’s no point in hiding from our pasts, Liam. I’ve slept with other men, you’ve slept with other women. It won’t change just because you can’t remember, or don’t want to.”

  “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “Most things you have to accept are likeable.”

  She blows me away. Every day, there’s something new I learn about her that just… makes me learn to open my mind more.

  “How do you do it? I mean, I know you hated me, but wasn’t there even a shred of jealousy when you saw me with other women?”

  She shrugs. “Just hate, I’m afraid. Sometimes I felt sorry for the women because I knew you’d treat them like shit. But I can honestly tell you I was never jealous.”

  “You sure know how to knock a man down. You could’ve lied.”

  “We agreed to no more secrets. I’ll never hide anything from you, Liam.”

  And that, I believe.

  Taking hold of her hand, I lead her downstairs as the driver pulls up to the house.

  The restaurant is busy as I follow Jimmy and the hostess, keeping a firm hold on Gabriella’s hand. We stop by a table with two guys sitting in their expensive suits who both stand when we approach. Clearly knowing who I am, they smile and hold their hands out for me to shake.

  “This is Gabriella Prescott, my wife.” I then turn to her. “And this is…” Shit. I have no idea what their names are.

  The guy in the sleek black suit says, “Tommy Willis,” and the guy in the grey suit says, “Malcolm Monroe.” She shakes both of their hands, and Malcom adds, “I take it you’ve worked out your problems?”

  Pulling out a chair for Gabriella, I tell him, “We’re working through some stuff,” and leave it at that.

  They sure as shit don’t need to know the ins and outs of our business, especially when we have no idea what’s happening between us most of the time.

  “I hear the guys showed up on your doorstep and stayed in Oak Hill while you came out here,” Tommy says, signalling for the waitress.

  “Yeah. They want to work on new music while I’m lying low.”

  The waitress appears, and Malcolm orders a bottle of champagne.

  “I think we deserve to celebrate our boy beating death.”

  “You celebrate, and I’ll stick to water.”

  “Oh. Are you on medication?” Tommy inquires.

  “Yeah,” I lie.

  “And Gabriella will take a bottle of beer. She doesn’t like champagne.”

  She offers me a grateful smile, and her hand snakes onto my thigh under the table. I rest my hand on hers, wishing this dinner was already over.

  “So, what’s this dinner in order of?” I ask, getting this shitshow on the road.

  Clasping his hands together, Tommy settles his attention on me. “We’re not expecting you to hit the road and start touring, but we would like to know where you’re at and what you’re thinking?”

  Well, I’m thinking of how I can get my wife, who hates me, out of her dress when we step through the door later, but I know that’s not what they want to hear.

  “As it stands, I don’t remember my own songs. All I know is when I listen to music, something stirs inside of me, and I feel this pull to create.”

  “That’s a good start,” Malcolm reasons.

  “I was talking with the guys before I left, and when I get back to Oak Hill, I’m gonna learn our old songs again while working on new material. As far as the tour that got cancelled is concerned, I can’t begin to plan on rescheduling yet.”

  Tommy rests his chin on his clasped hands.

  “How do you feel about doing a few interviews? Only the big names, tell ’em about the accident, your recovery. Assure your fans new music is coming, and that all is hunky dory,” he suggests, and my chest tightens at the thought of agreeing.

  “Not right now…”

  “We lost a lot of money cancelling the tour. Every show was sold out.”

  “I get that, but I nearly lost my life, and I’m not going to try and kill myself working just to make money. From what I’ve been told, I’ve already made you plenty, so I’m taking a couple more months to sort my head out, and then we can reconvene and discuss this again.”

  The waitress chooses this moment to bring our drinks, and I’m thankful for the intrusion. Spike warned me they’d try to get me back to working as soon as possible. Nothing I said is a lie. I do feel a pull to music, and being around Gabriella is bringing all kinds of lyrics to mind. I might not remember writing my old songs, but something in me knows what I need to do.

  “Gabriella, you must be relieved things are working out. You certainly ran circles around our Liam,” Tommy chuckles, turning the conversation to her after I basically killed it.

  “Yeah. If this is you two becoming a thing, we’ll need to know to get ahead of the journos,” Malcolm adds. “We’ll need to know what you want shared and what you don’t. After you survived death, you can do no wrong in the public eye, especially right now.”

  Great. As long as they’re happy.

  “We’re getting to know one another again. We’re friends,” she informs them, slipping her hand off my thigh.

  I feel her hand’s absence throughout dinner, and every part of me is disconnected from everything Tommy, Jimmy, and Malcom are talking about. I sneak glances at Gabriella while she eats everything put in front of her and sips her beer. Friends. That one word is tormenting every part of me. And while I know we’re far from a married couple, I thought we were more than just friends.

  “So we hope to see you back in the studio soon.”

  Blinking, I focus on Tommy, realising everyone is getting ready to leave. Thank fuck this dinner is over.

  “Yeah,” is all I can say.

  We do the whole hand shaking, hope to see you soon, bullshit, and Jimmy flags me down a cab.

  I usher Gabriella into the back seat and slide in beside her. I’ve come to prefer being alone with her; it brings me peace. But that one word has rattled me beyond any peace I seek.

  “Is that what we are? Friends?” I ask her when the silence between us becomes too much.

  “We’re not enemies anymore, but we’re not man and wife, so I think friends sounds about right.”

  Nothing else is said during the cab ride back to the house, and nothing is said until she heads for the stairs.

  “Goodnight, Liam.”

  That’s all she’s going to say? Maybe it’s for the best. I don’t have the energy to keep the night going.

  “Night.”

  Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I head up to my room and fall back onto the ridiculous sized bed. Kicking off my boots, I stare up at the ceiling.

  Friends.

  I get headaches trying to work out what we are, what we could become. What I do know is that I want to be more than just her friend.

  Sitting up, I place my beer on the floor and undress down to my boxers. Pulling our wedding photo out of my jeans pocket, I slide it under the sheets and crack open my beer. Tipping the bottle to my lips, I take a long pull and close my eyes, picturing Gabriella how she’s dressed in the photo, trying to force a memory to come to me. The usual pain explodes across my forehead, but I hold out for a moment longer.

  A knock at the door has my eyes springing open, and there she is, standing in the doorway when they fall into focus. Wearing a large T-shirt that hangs mid-thigh, I swallow thickly, wondering if she’s wearing anything underneath.

  “You okay? You need anything?”

  “I was wondering if I could stay in your room tonight. This house is huge, and I—”

  “Sure,” I blurt out, not caring what her reasons are.

  Crossing the room, she climbs into the centre of the bed. I’m glad she isn’t sticking to the other edge. We’d damn near have to shout just to talk to one another.

  “Why on earth did you think silk sheets were a good idea? They’re so cold to lay on, and never really warm up.”

  I laugh. “When I remember, I’ll let you know.”

  Without her seeing, I slide the photo down beside the bed. The last thing I need is her thinking I’m a weirdo. An asshole is bad enough.

  The beer long forgotten, I shuffle down and lie on my side, facing her.

  “I miss being in Oak Hill,” I admit.

  Everything there is cosier, like a safety net around me. Here, all I feel is lost. A tiny fucking fish in the middle of the vast ocean.

  “You have this amazing life here, Liam. One day, you’ll come back. If you don’t want to, you’ve got one hell of a choice to make.”

  That’s what I’m afraid of.

  “And I lied before. We’re more than friends, but how much more, I don’t know yet. I’m terrified you’re going to remember everything and disappear back to your life here, leaving me alone in Oak Hill again.”

  At least we’re getting somewhere now. She’s even more beautiful when she opens up and stops hiding behind her walls. Her vulnerability is something to behold.

  “The way I feel at the moment, I want to sell this house. I’d have nothing but work to come back for, and we can make music anywhere. I’d only have to come back when needed.”

  “You’re in a band. They may not feel the same,” she points out.

  “I’d figure it out.”

  And I would. For this woman, I’d change everything, if only she’d truly believe me. Shuffling closer to me, she says, “How about we stop talking?”

  One thing I’m learning about her is, she doesn’t like talking about the deep stuff for too long, but

  I’ll oblige. It’s not like I’m going to say no to her. Every time we’re together, it’s like how I imagine heaven to be. The euphoric ecstasy running through you, making you feel untouchable, on the highest of highs. It’s bliss.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Gabriella

  Dumping the fancy coffee cup into the sink, I turn to find Liam in the doorway, watching me. He’s fresh out of the shower, and his damp hair is pushed back out of his eyes.

  “What?”

  His smile lights up his face. “It’s not so bad waking up in this house with you in it.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. I’ve got to be back to work in a couple of days.”

  His smile falters, and then returns to perfection as he asks, “Is there anything you want to do while you’re here?”

  There is one thing.

  “I’d love to go to the beach. I’ve never seen the ocean, and it’d be a shame not to go while I’m here.”

  “Beach it is.”

  He rounds the island and pulls me against him. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I smile up at him and let him kiss me. The asshole is most definitely falling hard for me, but today, I’m going to enjoy going to the beach. I’m not going to let Liam’s presence ruin the only time I’ll probably be here.

  “If we keep kissing, we’ll never leave.”

  His boyish grin transforms him from hot asshole rock star to the boy I first fell in love with.

  “I’m good with that.”

  Slapping his chest, I back out of his arms. “We have tonight.”

  Heat darkens his eyes, and I’ll admit, I’m tempted. The sex between us is hot, but I lose myself when I’m intimate with him, and I can’t afford to get lost ever again.