By the final months of 2007, Storm Warning had added more original material to their sets. Their fans knew they would still hear their favorites, still be able to jam out to the songs they’d grown up hearing on FM radio. But they had begun to embrace the original songs and started requesting them between sets when the band was taking a break. It was that original material intended for their first CD that Layla always thought of as the soundtrack to the time when Liam started pursuing her in earnest.
They were still playing at Connie’s almost every weekend and Suzanne was still a regular fixture. Layla hadn’t noticed her sitting on Liam’s lap again, but she was often on the stool next to him. By then, Liam’s time in the bar always included a conversation with Layla. Several, in fact. He’d inserted himself into her world so slowly, so gradually, that it felt like he’d always been there. What began as a friendship had intensified into something romantic without her being fully aware that it was happening.
Liam was excellent at anticipating what someone might want and then using it to his advantage by providing it. There were more bottles of beer handed to her when her throat felt the driest and most raw. There was the time a drunk and belligerent guy got way too handsy with Layla when posing next to her for a picture and Liam stepped in and diffused it effortlessly, without even raising his voice. Layla had had a splitting headache that night. She was hot, tired, sweaty, and starving and she did not have the energy to deal with a drunk fan. Liam simply made the problem disappear, and when she tried to find him ten minutes later to say thank you, she wasn’t quick enough and spotted him walking out the door with Suzanne. When she saw him the following week, she made sure to go up to him first thing and tell him how much she’d appreciated his help. He was starting to interest her by then, and she found herself seeking him out in the crowd as she sang. There were times it might have seemed to the audience like Layla was singing directly to Liam, because she was. And Liam would sit there on his barstool ignoring whatever group of friends he’d come with as if Layla were the only thing worth watching in the bar.
The first time Layla hung out with Liam after a show was because he’d had the forethought to duck out during the band’s last song and pick up a gourmet pizza from the restaurant up the street that catered to the late-night crowd.
Instead of bringing her a beer, he waited until the crowd standing in line for pictures had all moved on. He walked up to Layla, the pizza balanced on his palm, and said, “I need someone to help me eat this. Know anyone who’s hungry?”
He was going to get kicked out of the bar any minute, because people were supposed to be heading for the door, not arriving with dinner. But the owner of Connie’s didn’t mind if the band hung around for a while and had a beer or two while they were packing up. The perk was also extended to anyone who might be dating a band member.
“I’m starving,” she said as he opened the box. She selected a piece from the side with pepperoni; the other side had sausage.
Kevin, the band member Layla was closest to and had slept with a few times back in college until they decided it was a terrible idea, walked by, a pair of drumsticks sticking out of his back pocket. “Only one of your groupies would bring pizza,” he said, helping himself to a slice before continuing out the door.
“I am not one of your groupies,” Liam said.
Layla grinned, her own slice halfway to her mouth. “If you say so.”
He smiled. “I do. And by the way, we’re on our first date right now.”
She choked on her pizza. “We’re definitely not.”
“Sure we are. It’s the type of date you go on when the girl you’d like to take somewhere is busy until two A.M. every weekend.”
“How can this be a date when you’re already dating someone?”
“Who am I dating?” he asked with genuine confusion.
“Suzanne. You know, the girl I went to school with and have known practically my whole life.”
“Trust me, I am not dating Suzanne.”
“She said you were that night I stopped to talk to you all.” And Layla had watched him leave with Suzanne the other night, not that you needed to be dating someone to take them home with you.
“We went out a few times. That’s it. I’m not interested in her.”
“You’re free to date whoever you want,” Layla said.
“I want to date you. I’m trying to do that right now.”
“The pizza is really good,” she said.
“That’s all I get, huh?” He smiled and opened the box. “Have another slice.”
She liked Liam. She wasn’t exactly sure why at that point, but she did. Maybe it was because he acted like a gentleman and he didn’t smother her, and he understood that the music was important to her and was willing to work around it. Lots of guys had tried to persuade Layla to go back to their places after the show, but that was always about their needs. None of them had ever thought to bring her a pizza to satisfy one of hers.
“When you closed the third set with that original ballad. Did you write that?” he asked.
“Kevin did. I don’t write. I just play and sing.”
“I liked the way you guys opened the second set with ‘Magic Man.’ You were made to sing that song. It’s seriously hot. I didn’t even realize how much I liked it until I heard you sing it. Why don’t you play more Heart covers?”
“Because someone else needs a turn to sing. And I’m going to blow out my vocal cords trying to emulate Ann Wilson, who, by the way, is an actual rock goddess.”
“So are you,” he said.
“You can stop now. No need for flattery.”
“It’s the truth,” he said.
As they talked and ate, it stunned Layla that Liam knew the order of every song in every set and seemed truly invested in the band from an entertainment angle.
“Do you have any musical abilities?” she asked. “Is this the part where you tell me you’re a closet musician secretly angling to join the band?”
“I can’t play anything, and trust me, you don’t want to hear my singing voice.”
“Then why?” she asked.
“Why what?”
“Why are you here every weekend?”
“Because I cannot get enough of watching you on that stage. Hearing you sing.”
Layla smiled.
“Shit. You know what I sound like?” he said.
“I do, but I wasn’t going to point it out.” The pizza was almost gone, and Layla yawned. She was full and happy, and her bed would feel so good tonight.
“Fine. I’ll admit it. I’m one of your groupies. I like the way you sing. I like the way you look when you sing. I want to know you better.”
“I play guitar, but I think you might just be a player.”
He tilted his head, looked her in the eye, and held her gaze. “You’ve been singing to me, Layla. I like it when you do that. And I like you. A lot. Give me a chance to show you how good we can be together.”
He fell harder and sooner than she did. She wasn’t sure about him yet, but she chose to believe that he was telling her the truth that night. In time, he would tell her he loved her and list all the things he loved about her, and she believed those things, too. Liam was a salesman through and through, and one of the things Layla was most ashamed about was that he’d sold her on himself and made her believe he supported her dreams as much as she supported his. She paid the full asking price for something she found herself wishing she could return later, but by the time she figured it out, it was way past way too late.
* * *