Home > The Rocker That Needs Me (The Rocker #3)(11)

The Rocker That Needs Me (The Rocker #3)(11)
Author: Terri Anne Browning

I tried to pull back a little after that, but my resolve lasted about an hour before I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Still, I tried to make it clear to Lana—and in turn clearer to myself—that we would only ever be friends. I could see that her feelings were growing for me, and I didn’t want her to waste her time and have her fall for me when I wasn’t good enough for her…

The week after Thanksgiving my feelings were shoved down my throat. I had to wake up quick to what was going on around me, especially when I walked into the guesthouse to find Layla packing. Her suitcase was sitting beside the door, and she had obviously been crying.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I exploded, unable to contain the fear that made my chest ache.

She shrugged. “Packing.”

“No. No way.” I shook my head, my hair falling into my face but I ignored it. “Where is Angel?” I demanded, glancing around for any sign of Lana. Jesse had pulled her outside with him, and I had figured that they were over here at the guesthouse.

“I thought she was with you.”

“Jesse grabbed her and left. I figured she would be here.” I glared at her. “Why are you packing, Layla? Why are you crying?”

“Because we are leaving.” Her matter of fact tone had the blood draining from my face. “Look, you will still see Lana anytime you want. Just because we leave doesn’t mean you have to stop being friends.”

“No. You aren’t leaving!” I shouted. “I can’t… You can’t…” I wasn’t even making sense to myself let alone to her.

“Drake…” Layla started to say something, but I took a step back. This woman was about to take the best thing in my world away from me. I needed Lana and the peace she brought with her. I wouldn’t survive without her.

The door opened and Lana walked in. Relief washed over me when I saw her. “You can’t go, Angel!” I grasped her hands and held on tight. “Tell her!” I begged.

Her arms wrapped around me, and I buried my face in her neck. “Of course I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.

I pulled her to the couch and fell with her on my lap, keeping my face in her neck. The scent of her shampoo and lotion calmed me ever so slightly. Her fingers stroked over my jaw, making me hold on tighter. I couldn’t let her go. No matter what, I needed her…

Oh, fuck! I was in love with her.

I loved Lana.

Not as just a friend, but I really loved her. It was new to me, and I was still determined that I wasn’t going to touch her—at least not until she was older. In that terrifying instant I knew I was going to marry this girl. One day. She just needed time to grow up and experience the world a little more. And I would keep her safe until then.

“What are you doing, Layla?” Lana demanded quietly.

“Packing. We are moving, Lana. Tonight.”

“Why? Why do we have to go?”

I tuned out Layla’s answer. I didn’t want to know why she was trying to take away my whole world. I might have even hated her right then. I didn’t care if she was upset with Jesse. If she couldn’t see how much my friend loved her, then that was her problem.

Lana jumped to her feet, and I missed her warmth. “Have you lost your mind?” she yelled at her sister. “Do you not see how much he loves you?”

“I know what I heard, Lana.”

“You only think you do! Go talk to him. Let him explain.”

“No, thank you. I’ve heard all I need to know.”

Lana crouched down in front of me. “Drake, go get Jesse. Get Emmie too.” She pulled me to my feet. “Tell them to hurry.”

Knowing that if I didn’t get Jesse to come fix whatever was broken with Layla, and Lana wouldn’t be there come morning, I ran into the house and found Emmie in the living room with a cup of milk in her hands. She took one look at my face and grabbed me.

“Drake? What’s the matter?” she demanded.

“Lana…” I shook my head, unable to form words with my heart beating so fast.

Emmie’s eyes darkened. “Of course. It’s always got something to do with Lana,” she muttered. “I’ll deal with it.”

I didn’t have time to correct her. Instead, I took the stairs three at a time. Jesse’s bedroom door was closed; I didn’t even knock as I barged in. He wasn’t there, but the shower was running in the bathroom connected to his room. I didn’t hesitate as I opened up the shower door. It wasn’t the first time I had seen Jesse’s junk, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Dude!” Jesse yelled.

“Layla’s packing! She’s going to leave.”

“What?!” He was covered in soap but that didn’t stop him from grabbing for a towel. He nearly fell on his ass as he ran past me, wrapping the towel around his waist.

With Jesse gone I was left alone in the steamy bathroom. The events of the past half hour started to catch up to me, and I suddenly felt as if I couldn’t handle another second without a drink. I stumbled down the hall to my room and found my last fifth of Jack.

Lana

As soon as Jesse arrived, I knew that everything was going to be okay. Drake’s reaction earlier had bothered me, and I wanted to go check on him. If he was this upset over me leaving Malibu, how would he react when I left for college? Emmie followed me out of the guesthouse, still in a huff because Layla had overreacted and thought the worst of both her and Jesse.

I stopped on the patio and turned to face her. “Why is it that every time Drake is upset you automatically assume it’s my fault?” I asked.

She sighed. “Because since you came along, it is your fault when he’s that upset.” Green eyes glared at me. “You have the power to make him fall on his knees, Lana. I don’t think you realize it, but sometimes I wonder if you do and you get off on making him hurt.”

I blanched at her words. “I would do anything to keep him from hurting, Em,” I whispered. “If you don’t know that, then you don’t know me.”

Hurt by her words, I scrubbed at the tears that leaked from my eyes and hurried into the house. I looked all over the house, trying to find Drake. Finally, I climbed the stairs and knocked on his bedroom door. He didn’t answer, but I could hear him moving around inside. Carefully, I opened the door.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. Fifteen minutes—tops—had passed since I had last seen him. I wasn’t sure if the bottle had been opened before now or not, but it was halfway gone. His face was pale and his fingers trembled. I crossed to the bed and dropped down beside him. Drake didn’t even raise his head.

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