by Rica Grayson
“Next one,” he says once my right foot’s done.
“I can do it,” I argue, but it lacks bite.
But he doesn’t hand the ointment over. “We can be here all night, or you’ll let me put this on. Which one’s it gonna be, Red?” He really isn’t letting this go.
I huff out a breath. “Stop calling me that.” Even that doesn’t come out as threatening as I’d meant it to. Truthfully, I like how the name sounds from his lips. I don’t know when that started to happen, but the realization leaves me reeling.
He releases my other foot gently. “All done,” he says, a smile playing on his lips. I understand what this is—an apology for everything that happened tonight. My heart beats fast in my chest, and when he gets up on his knees, we’re almost at eye level.
“T-thanks,” I say, dazed. Somehow, him treating me with the ointment felt intimate.
He dips his chin in acknowledgement, humor dancing in his eyes. “See you in bed.”
And when I yank a small, round pillow and aim it straight for him, he manages to dodge it, already walking away, laughing.
Damn him.
Chapter 15
Blaire
I’m up early, just in time to watch sunrise. I like the quiet parts of the day and just letting my mind roam. I find it’s the perfect time for me to write music.
Today, however, I find I’m distracted. I can only think of Ryan last night. The way he held himself so distantly during dinner, and after that.
They want something. They all do.
At my insistence, I help Kiara make breakfast. It’s our last breakfast here, and it makes my heart sink a little at the thought. It will be okay, I tell myself. Even if things between us aren’t fixed, I’ll be okay.
About to carry a pot of soup and plates on the other, Ryan helps. “Let me.” His fingers brush over mine as I pass him the plates carefully.
My cheeks turn hot, last night coming back to me. “Thanks,” I reply, ducking my head, bringing the soup to the table.
As we’re having breakfast, Reo clears his throat and says something to us in Japanese. He gestures to both me and Ryan.
Kiara gives Ryan a chastising look, and then her eyes meet mine, too, softening. “He says it’s a shame. You’re sitting next to each other but not talking.”
Ryan and I both freeze. A meaningful look passes between us. I chew on my bottom lip. I move the food on my plate around.
Reo coughs, but it sounds more like he’s trying to conceal a laugh. After yesterday, I can admit that the depth of my feelings for Ryan scares me. I should be wary of him, but whenever we’re around each other, all my guards fall away. He makes me feel vulnerable in a way I swore I never would again.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you this morning,” Kiara adds. “Your voice is beautiful. You were writing music?”
Ryan shifts his attention towards me, clearly interested. “You were?” he asks.
I shrug, a little uncomfortable with all the attention. “Thanks for saying that,” I tell Kiara. Her compliment warms me. It means a lot that she likes it. “I just wrote bits here and there. I might not even use it.”
Incredulous, she says, “Oh, but you should! It sounded great to me.”
“Why do you do that?” The sharp edge in Ryan’s voice catches my attention. “You have the talent.”
I look down at my plate, not sure how to answer him. “It’s not that. I don’t, really. I just… It’s just not ready yet.” I have a feeling it will be a while before it will. But that’s the best part—coming up with something new. The response to my last music video was overwhelmingly positive, it’s a daunting thought, wondering if my next one will top it. Success has its own gilded cage. I wonder if, sometime in the past several years, he had one like mine? He wears confidence like a second skin, especially when it comes to music.
“You do,” he presses on, unyielding. “And you are good. There’s no shame in owning it.”
The absolute, unwavering certainty in his voice makes my denial crumple. This person I looked up to the most, once upon a time, believes I have the skill. The knowledge floors me.
I pinch my cheeks, only to find their eyes all on me. All my teenage dreams coming true. Imagine that. Only they don’t seem so important anymore.
“I agree,” Kiara supports.
“Thanks. But… It’s really not done yet, I’m still working on it right now.”
“I look forward to when you release it.” All the attention makes me a little uncomfortable, but I treasure the compliment, happy that my music made her feel that way. When I throw a glance at Ryan, I find his eyes on me, intensely curious. Wanting to avoid those questions, I look away first.
Kiara stands up from the table, returning shortly with two white bowls. “Rice, anyone?”
Ryan
Sitting on the front steps of their home, I watch as Aki rolls his body on the grass. Reo came back from a walk with him. Blaire and I had finished packing, ready for our flight.
Reo drops down next to me. He looks out at the distance, too, and for a moment, I don’t think he’ll say anything.
“What happened?” he asks. Those two words make my chest go tight.
“Said something last night that I shouldn’t have.”
I did it again. Hurt her. This time, I could see that. But her pushing the promo drove me mad. Repairing things will take a while. Fuck.
“I like her.” He pauses. “She has... Happy eyes.”
I clap his back. “Your English improved.”
He snorts. “Only little,” he replies. He considers his next words. “I try. Practice a lot.”
I know it’s hard for him, but he’s getting better at it.
“Why are you here?” he asks. “Cool inside.”
As if in answer to my question, right on cue, a man heads to the gate, and I get on my feet. Cutting it close, but the package finally came. Perfect timing.
Blaire
“Safe travels,” Reo says, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
I blink. His accent is still there, but his English is a nice surprise. “Thank you.”
Kiara lets out a peal of laughter. “He’s shy, doesn’t want to mess it up.” Oh.
She hugs me. I squeeze back. Something about saying goodbye always make my heart ache.
“It’s a shame you can’t ride the Shinkansen to Kyoto,” she says regretfully. “Maybe some other time.”
I’ve heard the views are good from the bullet train. Maybe I’ll return someday, save up for a trip and all. Maybe with Shelly, or Chris, if his schedule’s free.
She glances at Ryan, and then her eyes hold mine, steady and clear. “I know maybe you don’t want to hear this right now, but… He’s a good man, just some experiences in the past have colored his view about people. That he brought you here… He’s never done that for any woman before.”
I wonder what had happened to make him that way. I watch from the distance as Ryan is deep in conversation with someone on the phone. I tear my gaze from him, only to meet Kiara’s watchful ones. She gives me an encouraging push. “Give him a chance and maybe you’ll understand. Have a safe trip.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask Ryan once he gets off the phone. Something’s bothering him. He seems distracted.
He doesn’t answer immediately, and I almost think he won’t. I watch as conflict tears through him. He releases a ragged sigh. “The truth?” His voice, rough with emotion, makes me worry. I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves.
“Always,” I answer earnestly.
“No,” he bites out. He hesitates for a moment, then asks, “You up for a detour? Before going back home.”
I can tell my answer, somehow, matters to him. One look at his face, and argument last night or not, instinctively I know that I don’t want to leave like this. “Yes.”
Chapter 16
Ryan
Your dad was here, Mom said. Says he’s got a business proposal.
Well, wasn’t he just good at finding one? It wasn’t the first proposal he brought to me, and I have no doubt it’s not going to be the last. He has no plan. No strategy. It’s what got him into debts. I help him with them, too.
But it’s not enough for him.
He’s never been interested beyond that. Nor was the last guy my sister dated. They were all the same.
He came over last night, causing a ruckus. Saying I was hiding you from him. I think he had something to drink.
It’s time to visit. It’s been long overdue. It’s time to make it clear that the only way I’d help him is if he helped himself, starting from the smoking and drinking that accompanied the unwelcome visits to my mom’s place. That wouldn’t stand. The police were involved a time or two before, too.
After making a couple of calls to arrange our arrival, I find Blaire in a bookshop along the magazine aisle, an edition clearly having caught her interest.
“Blaire.”
She turns her head when she sees me, a dazzling smile hitting her face.
Christ. That smile. It nearly makes me stumble, and I don’t fucking stumble. My feet move without thought. It’s her. She’s doing this to me. I wonder how I’d ever let her go.
“I was just going to look at the books,” Blaire admits grudgingly, her voice low. The flush in her cheeks forces me to pay attention to what she’s saying. Focus.
“It’s you.” She’s holding a magazine up, pointing at my picture on the front cover. It’s winter-themed and it’s snowing in the glossy cover. Her fingers brush over the cover gently. When she notices me watching, she drops her hand quickly, like she’d been caught.
I tip my head down, in case anyone heard her. Bold Japanese writing surround me on the cover.
Ah, that magazine feature.
“They did an interview a while back, too, The interviewer was nosy as hell.”
An odd look crosses her face when I ask her if she wants to go. “Umm. It’s okay, I’ll be doing some reading for a bit. You can go ahead if you want.”
I nod, letting her know I’ll be getting us some food.
I’m glad she agreed to come with me to LA. I wasn’t sure if she would, but when I asked her earlier, she barely hesitated. That means she trusts me on some level.
It loosens the tight knot in my chest since my mom’s phone call. With my mom’s recent messages the last couple of days, she mentioned that she was looking forward to seeing more of Blaire. Not exactly a subtle hint. More rumors and headlines have circulated between us. Despite it all, Blaire seems to be taking it well.
I’ve done my best to keep my social media quiet and declining any appearances. I can’t deny the truth—I want to protect what we have, for as long as I can. I have no illusions that the pack of wolves that is the media wouldn’t be able to scent our latest travels. But my only interests are, first, keeping her from getting any negative backlash, and second, keeping her.
I’ve been trying to use my contacts to cushion any negative news reported on her side, and so far, it seems to be working.
Mom would be glad to see her. Thinking of what’s going to happen, anticipation hits me. I don’t think Blaire knows what she’s in for.
Blaire
The landing was rough. Ryan talked me through it, and although it helped, now I have the biggest headache. There was no chance of sleeping, since the weather was rough, as if the sky was lashing out some sort of punishment. My stomach lurched at every dip of the plane, but somehow, I managed not to throw up.
Gina Carson looks exactly the same as I remember. I’ve always admired her tenacity to make it as a single mother, and her always being supportive of everything Ryan did. I remember secretly wishing I had that kind of support back when I started. My parents were skeptical at first—Chris had his lucky break, while I had a much slower start. Then I realized that some things in life you need to hear, no matter how critical, to spur you to work harder.
Nearly in tears, she hugs Ryan. “How was your flight?”
“A little rough,” he answers. “But I’m not the one who really needs the rest.” His gaze slides over to me.
This catches me by surprise, although I try not to let it show. He noticed?
I realize he always puts the spotlight on me. He probably enjoys watching me squirm. I give him a look to let him know I’m onto him, but his expression is inscrutable.
That’s when Gina finally notices me. Eyes widening in surprise, both hands fly to her mouth. “Blaire! Oh, sweetheart, it’s so nice to see you,” she exclaims.
She engulfs me in a big hug. A surge of emotions rise to the surface, making my eyes wet. Her hug reminds me of home. I miss everyone, and I haven’t even been gone that long.
“I knew it.” She sniffs, wiping a tear away. “Something’s been happening between you two for years, I just didn’t know what.”
“Oh, we’re not—”
“We’re exceptionally good at hiding,” Ryan shocks me by responding. He tugs me close, then his hand reaches down my waist, almost possessive. I fight the urge to shiver at the touch.
I nudge him gently at his side, trying to keep my smile in place. “What are you doing?” I whisper in his ear. “It’s your mom.” She needs to know the truth.
“Really?” he whispers back. “I didn’t know.”
Argh. He wants to pretend with his mom, too?
She takes a step closer, and placing a hand on my cheek, she reveals, “I’m glad it’s you.”
I glare at him, but it bounces off him easily.
“He’s been dodging all the women I’ve told him about.” She aims an accusatory look at him. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
Guilt sweeps through his face, but he clears his throat. “I’ve come to realize she’s the only woman for me.”
No. What is he saying? I gape at him, trying and failing to think of something to say. He’s digging an even deeper hole.
“Ha! He’s funny. Likes cracking jokes. We’re taking it slow. Really slowly,” I tack on, stressing that this thing between us isn’t what she thinks at all.
Her smile only turns brighter, completely unfazed. “Great! I’m glad you’re both taking your time.” Ahh, I shouldn’t have said that. “You’re staying with us, I hope? Natalie’s excited to see you.”
Ryan steps close to her and murmurs something I don’t quite catch. She shakes her head in response. “We’ll be fine,” I hear her saying.
I wonder what that’s about. But it sounds like a private issue, and not wanting to stick my head in where it doesn’t belong, I put it to the back of my mind.
Oh my God. I try not to gawk at my surroundings as we walk in. Polished marble tiles, carpet that stretches on forever, and a grand piano in the middle of the hall.
I couldn’t eat anything when we came back, still feeling a little queasy from the flight. I’m shown the way to the guest room and exhale in relief when I’m left here. Privacy. Finally.
I unpack some of my belongings. With a yawn, I plop down at the end of the queen-sized bed. Soft. I bounce on the bed a little, enjoying how springy it is. I run my fingers over the intricate carving of swirly lines and shapes on the headboard. All embellished and fancy in coppery-red wood. While I’m grateful he brought me here, it feels more intimate than any hotel he could’ve chosen.
A knock on my door pulls me away from my thoughts. “Blaire? Still awake?” Ryan asks. It feels like I’m sixteen again, giddy from simply hearing his voice. Stop it.
“Yes.” I have a bone to pick with him anyway.
“I know you said you couldn’t stomach food, but Mom insisted.” Ryan enters, shutting the door behind him. He has a mug of...
“Is that hot chocolate?” I blurt out.
He nods, amused at my response. He places it on a small table beside me. His eyes, heated, sweep over me. Okay, I need to change the topic. Fast.
“Why did you say that to her earlier? Now she’ll think we’re going to get married or something.” Blood dra
ins from my face at the thought of the potential consequences. When this is over between us, I would be in a really awkward position.
Although he doesn’t answer immediately, looking at some frame of a picture of him and his sister, I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s finding pleasure in my suffering.
He holds my gaze steadily, a slight curve to his lips that betrays his thoughts. “Because it’s true.”
Okay. I’m not touching that with a ten foot pole. Gah. Why is he doing this?
Unaffected, he moves to pick up my pink hairbrush on the end of my bed, studying the unicorn patterns. It was supposed to be for my niece, but I found a better present and it felt like a waste to throw it away. I can’t help the blush that spreads over my cheeks. I try to snatch it from his grasp, but he dodges. He grins, dangling it in front of my face. See? Total jerk. He’s doing it on purpose, but I don’t bite.
I cross my arms instead in defiance. “A month,” I remind him, my heart aching at the thought. “This will be over in a month.” His eyes glint, and he opens his mouth to say something, but I hastily add, “And when she finds out, it will suck. Maybe not so much for you, because she’s your mom, but the blame will rest on me, all over this whole… pretend act.” Sighing deeply, I clutch the pillow resting on the headboard and hug it to my chest.
“You done?” he asks with a measure of calm that I can’t muster right this moment. He holds the brush up, indicating he’s going to brush my hair.
Pinned under his gaze, I eye the brush warily.
“Headache,” he murmurs. Taking my silent stare as my acquiescence, he lowers on the bed to sit next to me and runs the brush through my hair. His fingers follow the same path. Okay. That feels good. Mind-numbingly relaxing. Instantly, tension leaves my body.
