Part 108 (1/2)

point to the next? He could have told her that

once she reached the finish line the glory was only momentary. But she

wouldn't have listened.

A teenager. Sweet Jesus, how had she come to be a teenager? And how

had he come to be a thirty-three-year-old icon?

At thirteen it had all seemed very simple to him. His goals had been

perfectly defined. To get out of the slums, to play his music, to be

someone. He'd accomplished all of that. So where was the thrill? He

picked up his gla.s.s and drank deeply. Where the h.e.l.l was the thrill?

He watched Emma dive under a wave then come up, sleek as an otter, on

the other side. He wished she wouldn't swim out so far. It was so much

easier to worry when he could see her. The months when she was tucked

away in school, he never worried. She was a good student, well

mannered, quietly obedient. Then the holidays would come, and she would

pop back into his life. That much more grownup, that much more

beautiful. He would see that look in her eyes, that dark, determined

look he recognized as his own. It frightened him.

”G.o.d, what energy.” Johnno dropped down beside him. ”She doesn't slow

down much, does she?”

”No. We getting old, Johnno?”

”s.h.i.+t.” Johnno adjusted his panama and tried a sip of Brian's rum. ”Rock

stars don't get old, son. They play Vegas.” Grimacing, he screwed the

gla.s.s back into the sand. ”We ain't there yet.” He settled back on his

elbows. ”Of course, we ain't Shaun Ca.s.sidy, either.”

”Thank Christ.”

”Keep that up and you'll never get your picture in 7?ger Beat. ” They