Page 71 of Just Between Us

“It’s been a long day, friends. What do you say we try again tomorrow?”

We all hum our agreement, the collective relief palpable. One by one, everyone drifts outside until I’m alone. Or at least I think I’m alone. I’m kneeling next to my fiddle case when a shadow falls over me. I don’t need to look up to know who it is.

“Everything okay, son?”

No.

“Yeah, Dad, I’m fine,” I lie, but can’t meet his eyes.

Dad can read me like a book, not one bit scared to tell it like it is. “You don’t look fine. Your Mama and I are worried about you.”

Forcing my eyes to his, I stand to my full height and will my words to sound believable. “It’s nothing. I’m handling it.”

Dad laughs, a disbelieving sound. “Handling it? Liam. You’re a breath away from landing yourself right back where you were after the wreck.”

The mention of the wreck slingshots my mind back to that night. Rain coming down in sheets, glass glittering like diamonds on the asphalt. And the lights. So many lights.

Stepping around him, I drop onto the piano bench, head falling into my hands.

I don’t wanna admit he’s right. Since returning from Nashville, I’ve thought I could fix whatever this is that’s broken inside of me. But I know I’ve done a piss-poor job at that. Over Thanksgiving, any time I’d enter a room, conversations would come to a halt. And the looks. So many piteous glances my way. I know they mean well, but being the object of their pity all the damn time is enough to drive me up the fucking wall.

I could see the wheels turning in their minds.What can we do to fix Liam?Well, good luck with that when I’m still trying to figure it out. And Ryan’s words that last night in Nashville ring throughmy mind, crystal clear.“Have you given therapy any more thought?”I know deep down I can’t keep doing this. Something needs to change, and that’s the one thought I keep coming back to.

“Dad,” I start, voice muffled through my hands. “What are your thoughts on therapy?”

I brace myself for the “Davis men pull themselves up from their bootstraps” speech I’ve built up in my mind, but it doesn’t come. Why did I think it would? Greg Davis isn’t afraid to show his emotions, and he never once berated Ryan or me when we cried. Hell, nobody cried harder than him the day Penny’s father died.

The bench creaks as he takes a seat next to me. “You can’t imagine what it does to a father, seeing his son in the shape you are in. I don’t know much about therapy, but if it brings my son back, it’s worth a shot.”

Dad puts a heavy hand on my shoulder, and we sit in silence letting those words settle.

Then a new voice joins the conversation. “I think it takes a brave man to admit when he needs some help.”

Austin steps from the sound booth and strides our way.

“I won’t apologize for eavesdropping. My sister cares for you and what affects you affects her.”

Dad looks to Austin and back to me, standing, and claps me on the back. “I think I’ll make my exit and let you two talk in private. Liam, your mama is making fried chicken. Stop by on your way home.”

The thought of eating anything turns my stomach, but I nod anyway.

“Love you, son.”

“You too,” I reply, and Dad heads for the door.

Austin drags a stool over, perching on it with his ankles crossed, like he’s settling in for a while.

“Liam, did you know I’ve been in therapy a few months now?”

My brows shoot up. “No shit?”

“Yes, shit. You don’t think Cassie James would let up until I agreed, do you?”

I smile at the mention of Cassie, but the smile slips when I think about how I promised we’d talk soon. How she texted on Thanksgiving, and I didn’t give so much as a Happy Thanksgiving in response.

The truth is, I’m terrified. If we talk, I’ll have to tell her everything. All the words I’ve kept locked up will pour out like a fire hose. All my thoughts will see the light of day and I’ll have no choice but to face them.

And not only about Julie. I’ll have to face how badly I want Cassie, how that messes with my head.