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“I’ll prove it. Believe me, Paige, you’ll be the one breaking me.” I start the car unable to continue this conversation about the peace I’ve already made with myself that I’m undeserving of her and one day she’ll wake up like Sleeping Beauty, to her real prince.

She professes nothing, letting my promise linger in the small confines of my car. This isn’t the laughing and smiling date I assumed we’d have, but if she needs reassurances from me, I’ll hand them over. What do I have to lose? She’s already broken me. She flicked the last chip stuck on my shoulder off. Unleashed me from the pain that’s occupied my heart for so long. That’s why I’ll grab whatever she gives me and never ask for more.

Once I follow the signs for the freeway, she faces me again. “Enough demons, where are you taking me today?” Her voice much happier than a few minutes ago. Another reason I’m falling for her. She never allows anything bad to occupy her mind for long.

“Rock N Roll Museum.” She chokes on the sip of water she helped herself to in my center console. Although, I didn’t think we were at that point, I love that she did. “Is that okay?” I ask her, reaching over for the open bottle in her hands.

“Of course.” There’s a hint of doubt in her voice, but I’ll assume it’s from the talk before we left.

“I just figured you’re always listening to all that classic rock. It should be right up your alley.” She nods, but uncomfortable to say the least.

“Yes.” Who is this chick? Not the Paige I know.

“Have you ever been there? If you don’t want to go?” I try to hide the dryness in my throat that I picked wrong.

“No.” She reaches across and squeezes my knee with her hand. “It’s perfect.” Too bad when I glance over that gorgeous smile doesn’t lift her cheeks.

MY STOMACH HAS never churned as much as it has this thirty-minute trip to Cleveland. Have I ever been there? Hell, I was there for the damn induction of my dad’s band, The Raptures. Rob’s lucky I didn’t spit the water all over his lap when he answered with the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame. Maybe then he would have spun this car around and back into the safety of our garage.

As we exit the freeway and begin to weave the streets of downtown, I pinpoint in my head the exact location The Raptures are at in the museum. I need to stay fucking clear of that area because of that one damn picture everyone loves so much. As though I was The Raptures’ damn mascot, it’s well known. I’m actually surprised Rob hasn’t figured it out; he saw the picture of me twirling around in my princess dress. It’s the same dress with me in it on the cover of their most popular album. The picture is distorted to appear faded and ripped, but it’s me. I’m nauseated the more I think about him finding out who my dad is.

“You okay?” he asks, concern etched in his eyes.

I plaster on the fake smile. “Yeah.” Rob sees through my mask but doesn’t call me on it.

Shit. I suck in another breath. Rob’s eyes have veered over my way too many times since we’ve started this date. Maybe I should spout it out right now. Tell him so he doesn’t think I deliberately kept a secret from him. But I did. Why? Because I’m too damn scared he’ll be with me for that sole reason. The usual instant best friendships I usually get when people find out who my dad is, is bad enough. Take into account Rob is a guitarist that’s contemplating making music his career and it only compounds the reality. If Rob finds out my dad is Greg Thompson, I might never know if he truly loves me.

“Here we are.” Rob passes by, driving into the parking garage.

He shuts the engine off and I move to grab the handle of the car door, but his hand on my thigh stops me.

“Are you sure you want to go? You seem weird since I brought it up.” How could anyone believe this man sitting across from me didn’t care for other people? His loving and adoring blue hues speak volumes. His nonverbal is so much louder than his mouth.

“Yes. I’m excited.” I smile and then open the door to the car.

When we meet up behind the car, he links his fingers with mine. “I would have liked to open your door.” He knocks his shoulder with mine and I smile.

“Sorry, force of habit I guess.” When I don’t toss a snarky comment back, he stops me in front of the elevators.

“Talk to me.” He jerks my hand and I sigh.

“I have to tell you something, but can it wait until we’re in there?”

He tilts his head in confusion. “Take your time, Paige. I’m not going to rush you.”

Seriously, he’s so sweet. My lips lift because he’s wrong, I could never break him, which hopefully means we’re stuck together.

“I want it all out there, Rob. You’ve told me everything, and it’s time I do, too.”

He frowns slightly, as though he’s offended that I haven’t been as honest as he presumed. Then he smiles and the elevator dings for us. The air stiffens around us as the elevator descends down. Before my crazy behavior, I imagine Rob would have pinned me up against this wall, maybe eased between my legs as he thoroughly kissed me.

Although there’s no choice, he has to know who my father is and whatever happens happens. I’ve learned the tell-tale signs that people want to hang around me solely because of my dad. If he asks me to have dinner with my dad, or see his house right after, it’s time I high tail it out of this relationship. When people start caring more about my dad and what he has to offer and less about me, I have no choice but to crush the relationship.

Rob pays for me and hands me my ticket after. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

His hand rests on the small of my back as we navigate through the lobby. His calloused fingers scorch my skin when they inch up my shirt to expose my back. With Rob, there’s always an undying want resonating underneath and it scares me that this relationship could be more physical for him. Whereas, for me I’m just as invested emotionally. He’s the one, and if he passes the test to who my dad is, then you might as well put a ring on my finger and call me Mrs. Winters. It scares the crap out of me though and I’m not sure love is supposed to entice that feeling.

Rob doesn’t ask me anymore about what I want to tell him, and I figure I’ll wait until we reach the second floor where The Raptures dedication is laid out.

We read facts about the musicians and he adds small tidbits that he’s heard or read other places. His knowledge of musicians surpasses me by a mile. Which only speaks volumes about what he decides in the war inside of himself—school or music. I’d be lying if I didn’t secretly hope for school, but it’s not my choice.

“Oh man, Paige, you’ve got to see this.” He drags me over to the latest inductees. “Did you know Green Day got inducted? How did I miss this?” He’s like a kid in a toy store, skipping from exhibit to exhibit, scouring for more facts to digest.

“No, I didn’t. That’s awesome,” I comment, monitoring how empty the museum is becoming. We got here late, too late to see the whole thing, but I’m more than okay with that.

“Could you imagine, Paige, seeing your face in here someday? That you made something of yourself.”

Yeah I could. Right upstairs as a matter of fact.

“It doesn’t make them better than others.” My voice is too angry to not cause alarm to him.

“Sorry, babe, I disagree. These are the top musicians ever.” He doesn’t give me more than a glance before his eyes are glued to Ringo Starr’s area.

“Yes I agree with that, but they’re just average people.”

He scuffs, “Average people who make millions and perform in packed arenas.”

My heart clenches in my chest and I close my eyes, willing the tears to stop that are about to fall. I tell my heart, we knew this wasn’t it, who really finds a gem under an asshole? It’s what romance books are made of, not real life.