Page 90 of This Side of Beautiful

Landon nodded again, this time firmer.

But when Cedrick reached to help him, Landon ignored his hand.

I bent down, picked up his fallen hat, and handed it to Cedrick. He took it, then wordlessly placed it back on Landon’s head.

Landon didn’t acknowledge either of us as he walked inside.

Pain slashed through me. I wilted against the leather seat. I couldn’t comfort him when he needed me the most.

Cedrick lingered by the door. “You’re not coming in?”

I wiped at my damp cheeks and whispered, “He doesn’t want me here.”

Cedrick studied me for a long moment. “If you leave now, he’s going to think you can’t handle this part of him.”

I swallowed hard. “Is that why you warned me? You thought I wouldn’t stay?”

“Partially.” Cedrick shoved his hands into his pockets. “His parents?”

“And then fans swarmed us in front of the restaurant. He was trying to protect me from the crowd. He held it together until we got in the car. I feel so bad because I pushed him to see his mother when he was already under pressure with the album and getting used to this new attention.”

“Don’t feel bad. He wants a good relationship with his parents. Any time they call, he’s there, even if it triggers him. He’s been holding a lot in, too. The late-night TV circuit has been calling, and I’ve spoken for the band in the past. They want Landon to speak. He’s torn because he doesn’t want to hold us back.”

I moved closer to the door. “Has he ever seen a therapist?”

“I don’t know. These attacks don’t happen that often.”

“He needs to see someone. He gets too anxious.” I hugged myself.

Cedrick insisted, “He’s fine. His last episode was months ago.”

“There isn’t anything wrong with having a therapist. I had one for years.”

“Well, now isn’t the time to suggest it because he can’t start seeing someone right at this moment. We have four cities left. Wait until after the tour, please. It’s just one more month. With the film crew around, is it fair to shove him in front of a shrink’s chair, too?” Cedrick gestured toward the door with his head. “Come inside. We’ve been out here too long. He’ll know we’re talking about him. He’s still embarrassed you saw him like that. Prove to him it doesn’t matter. Please.”

Deep love and concern shone in his eyes.

I nodded. “I won’t say anything about therapy until after Los Angeles and tonight doesn’t change my feelings for him.”

Despite my fear that Landon would reject me, I’d been him countless times, including two nights ago. Ashamed of my behavior, I’d often shunned people and pretended they didn’t exist when all I wanted was for them to understand.

“Then let’s go,” Cedrick said.

I reached for his hand. “I’m also sorry that I ever misjudged you.”

“You didn’t. I’m every bit of the arrogant asshole you believe I am.” He helped me get out of the car and released my hand as we walked inside. “Landon has been my brother since we were kids, and I ride for my family. Glad he now has you, too.” He half grinned. “Told you I can admit when I’m wrong.”

When we entered the studio, Landon was in the booth with his head lowered, strumming his guitar. The rest of the band didn’t acknowledge me as they watched transfixed from outside. The hauntingly beautiful music evoked my melancholic soul and reminded me of my sorrow and pain. By the time he’d strummed his final, stirring chord, there were no dry eyes in the room.

I wiped my tears and opened the door to the booth. “Come on, baby. Let’s go home.”

Landon and I locked gazes. Shame and fear still coated his luminous eyes, but at least he was no longer afraid to look at me. He placed his guitar on the stand, and I wrapped my arm around his waist when he joined me at the door. We didn’t say goodbye to the band as we left the building and headed to his place.

Chapter Thirty

landon

May 18

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