“When I smile at the camera, it’s just for you. So you know I’m thinking about you.”

No Tomorrow is playing at a live music awards show in two days. The next day they have an interview with a talk show, when they’re going to announce that the band is going on a hiatus for an undetermined length of time. A few days later they have a guest appearance on another television show, then they have meetings with the lawyers, and the following week Blue has a guest appearance singing with another band. He’ll be staying at his bass player’s house in California while all this is going on since so many recording studios are near where Koler lives.

“I’ll be watching for your smile,” I say, already looking forward to seeing his special smile on our television screen. When he doesn’t reply, I realize he’s still kneeling on the floor with his guitar case, staring into it with a faraway expression.

“Blue?”

He stares blankly into the guitar case like it’s a black hole.

I cross the room and lightly tap his shoulder. “You okay?” I ask softly.

He blinks, then suddenly looks up at me. “What?”

My forehead scrunches with worry. “You just spaced out. Are you all right?”

He shakes his head, pushes his hair out of his face, and closes the case.

“Yeah,” he says, not looking at me. “I think I’m just tired.”

I wonder if he’s getting sick. It’s eleven a.m. He slept until eight, and we got about nine hours of sleep last night, so he really shouldn’t be feeling tired.

“Do you want to take a nap before I take you to the airport?”

He stands, still with a bit of a lost expression on his face, and forces a crooked smile.

“Will you lie down with me? And put the rain on?”

I wasn’t expecting him to want to nap, but there’s no way I’m going to turn down even a moment of cuddle time with him—especially when I’m not going to see him for weeks.

Wordlessly we remove each other’s clothes, kissing softly in between, then we spoon under the blankets with the sound of the soft rainfall coming from the nightstand.

“I think I just needed more of this before I go,” he whispers. “I just want to stay like this forever.”

Me too.

Chapter Fifty-One

“I can’t believe Blue is on TV, Mom,” Lyric says, her eyes bright with excitement. Mickey is sitting between us on the couch, hoping we drop some of our popcorn. I may have accidentally dropped a few pieces already just to see his cute face munch on treats.

We’ve tried to keep Blue’s band, his fame, and everything that comes with it out of Lyric’s life so she can just be a normal young girl and not the daughter of rocker Evan Von Bleu. Blue and I decided since he’s leaving the band, and because he promised the song they’d be playing would be a clean acoustic love ballad with no swearing, that we’d let Lyric watch him play live on television tonight.

And now she’s absolutely entranced watching him sing and play his guitar. I’m surprised to see him playing his old beat-up guitar tonight, and a flash of pain hits my chest when I see he’s got Acorn’s worn black collar wrapped around his wrist. He sings with deep, haunting emotion, his voice raw and raspy like razors are slicing out the words.

If I could stay, I think I would

If I could’ve saved you, I think I would

If I could bring you with me, God knows I would

But I’m on this road alone, doing nothing that I should.

“Why is Blue so sad, Mom?” Lyric asks.

“He’s not sad, sweetie. It’s just the song.”

She shakes her head, not taking her eyes off her father on the screen.

“No. He’s sad. I can see it.”

I wish I didn’t love you

I wish you didn’t love me, too

I wish I could change the things I do

I wish none of this was true.

Toward the end of the song he looks into the camera and his lips curve into a quick sexy smile before he turns away.

My heart swells. That smile was for me

“I didn’t know he could sing like that,” Lyric comments, with that same faraway expression Blue gets.

“Yeah. Your dad’s pretty amazing.”

She nods and tilts her head to the side as she watches him on the television screen.

“He really is,” she agrees. “I wish he looked happier. When he plays for me here, he always looks happy.”

I smile and pet Mickey. “He’s happy. A lot of musicians have stage personalities where they look, dress, and act different than they do in their normal life.”

“Kind of like acting?”

“Yes, exactly like acting.”

She ponders that for a moment while Blue rises from his stool on stage and bows in thanks to the audience as they stand and clap. Even with his air of melancholy, he’s magnetic and charismatic on stage.