Chasing Alys

by Morgana Bevan

I swung the door open to find her hovering with a guilty expression.

  “If I say great, will you believe me?”

  She shook her head.

  “I didn’t think so. The music was terrible. How can you stand those things?”

  I let the bathroom door fall shut behind me with a loud bang – the joys of fire doors. Emily followed me down the hall to my bedroom.

  “They’re not all bad.”

  I threw her an incredulous look before shoving my door open.

  “I was kind of surprised Rhiannon agreed to appear at that one, though. Axel’s and Jackson’s rock nights are much better.”

  “Maybe they didn’t know,” I said, my voice distracted as I got dressed.

  “Maybe,” she hummed.

  Despite the fact my throat was slightly sore and I still heard the eardrum-shattering screech of reverb, I couldn’t convince myself it had been a completely terrible night. Ryan’s face flashed before my eyes. I remembered his infectious smile and the skitter of energy that’d shot up my arm when he brushed my hand with his callused fingertips. Damn, that had felt good.

  Too good.

  It would have been a bad idea. I knew that. And yet, that moment was part of the reason I was still so tired. I’d hardly slept, replaying our entire interaction while I was half asleep.

  If his touch could have that much of an effect, what would his lips feel like? Off the charts, I’d guess.

  I could have kissed him and left. It wouldn’t have hurt. It’s not like I would have gotten attached to him. He was a complete stranger and lived more than four hundred miles away. That sounded like a pretty safe bet for my first and last dive bar kiss.

  It wouldn’t have led to anything. I did not do lengthy communications. I’d already been stung enough times by men who dragged out texting for months. They delayed meeting until they just vanished, and by that point, I was attached to the bloody idea of them. Nah, I was done wasting my time with all that. If a guy wanted a first date, he could figure that out in a night.

  Of course, I was no longer swiping on any apps, so it was a bit hard for them to ask.

  Didn’t mean it would have gone that way with Ryan, a traitorous voice whispered.

  This is what I’d come to, guilting myself over a hot guy who was leaving the country today. What the hell was I doing to myself?

  “Are you keeping secrets from me?” Emily demanded, startling me from my thoughts. She grinned when I met her gaze and heat rushed to my cheeks.

  “Of course not.”

  I turned my back on her and pulled a t-shirt over my head.

  “You’re a terrible liar, so you may as well spill.”

  I didn’t. I continued to get dressed, slamming my feet into my boots a little too hard and missing entirely. I bent down to steady myself, and she continued.

  “You met someone at the gig.”

  Fabric rustled behind me, and I straightened to find she’d made herself comfortable on my bed. She sat primly on the edge with her hands clasped and her legs crossed. Her face was painted with patience while she studied me like a hawk.

  I crossed my arms. “Someone might have tried to kiss me.”

  Her eyebrow quirked. “Was he good looking?”

  I nodded. Very.

  “And he wasn’t sleazy?”

  I shook my head. Sleazy was not a word I could equate with Ryan.

  “So why didn’t you let him kiss you?”

  “After everything that happened to you last night, how can you ask me that?”

  She waved her hand, brushing it all aside. “Just because Oliver broke my heart doesn’t mean I can’t want you to be happy. I meant what I said about choosing love, you know. He could have been it and you put the blinders on.”

  “I did not.” My words echoed in the silent room until even I couldn’t hide from the lie.

  “Uh-huh. Did you get his number at least?”

  I frowned at her. I was pretty sure she’d notice a personality transplant if I’d had one. Almost every time I accepted a number from a stranger on a night out, they ended up being the ghosting or cheating type. I’d learnt my lesson, thank you very much.

  “Alys!”

  “I’m on a man break. Leave it alone.”

  “Not a chance.” She pointed at me, her face set and relentless. “If you run into him again, you have to get his number.”

  “Not happening. He’s from Glasgow. I’m not the one-night kind of girl anymore, and if I can’t keep a man faithful in the same city, what the hell would long distance do to me?” My hands landed on my hips as I faced off against my optimistic best friend. “Do you want a neurotic mess for a flatmate?”

  Her expression morphed before my eyes. Curiosity and suspicion warred for dominance as her mouth opened and closed around a question. “Did he have any connection to Rhiannon?”

  “He said they were friends of his.” I regretted telling her the truth the moment the words left my mouth.

  “And you didn’t get his number even for your best friend to abuse it for direct contact to her favourite band?” she screeched. I winced and backed towards the door. “I thought we knew each other better than that!”

  I held up a finger, continuing to back away. “One, that would have been weird. And two, I’m not leading someone on or sleeping with them so you can fangirl.”

  She gasped. “I would never. Fangirls don’t get far, and I’ve had my eye on one of the band members for years. You could have helped me rebound.” She sighed, falling back against my mattress.

  “You like this band. How would you look them in the eye at the next gig?”

  “It could have been magical,” she muttered to herself, ignoring my rambling logic.

  Chapter Eight

  “I didn’t peg you for the sweet-tooth type,” a familiar voice whispered in my ear. It startled me enough that I dropped the two ice cream tubs I’d been considering. They clattered down the freezer shelves. Damn.

  The door slid closed, reflecting Ryan’s gorgeous face back at me, his eyes shining with laughter. He had been hard to resist in the sticky bar, but here under the supermarket’s bright fluorescent lights, hopefully sober, he was deadly.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said as I turned away from the freezer and its confusing array of ice cream. “It was a fun side bonus.”

  “Brian, was it?”

  Alright, it was catty, but he had a big enough ego for the hit. He didn’t need to know that he’d had a memorable effect on me.

  “Nice try, Alys.”

  That easy smile was back, and it set butterflies free in my stomach.

  “What are you doing here?” I said as I leaned against the freezer door.

  “Isn’t a man allowed to shop when he’s hungry?”

  “I mean in Cardiff. I thought you would have left by now. I didn’t think I’d see you again.” I shuffled the basket into my other hand, the weight starting to burn.

  His expression turned serious. “Something came up.” Then he shrugged, biting his lip ever so slightly. “As for my being in this supermarket, we’re staying at St David’s in the Bay.”

  I should have guessed. It was the number one hotel in Cardiff and its sweeping-sail top roof made it one of the most recognisable buildings on the Cardiff Bay skyline. It was known to host the rich and famous.

  Staring into his eyes, I forgot why I needed to protect myself from confident beautiful men. For a moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the new intoxicating rush of possibility. My pulse raced, and the tension thickened between us as he stepped closer. Would this man, who I’d only met last night, kiss me in the freezer aisle?

  Yet I’d just told Emily I didn’t want to get involved. Kissing was definitely involved, one way or another, and not something someone on a man cleanse would do. I sidestepped him, putting the open aisle at my back.

  “What happened last night?” he asked, smirking at my retreat.

  “My friend needed me. And she’s waiting for me now, so I’d bet
ter get going.” I reopened the freezer door and took out the two almost identical peanut butter ice cream pints I’d been mulling over before his distracting presence startled me.

  “I see.” He took in the contents of my basket. “Bad breakup?”

  How did he… I guess it wouldn’t have been that hard to equate worrying about my best friend and a basket full of junk food with relationship misery.

  “A pretty shitty one, yeah.”

  “Sorry. Were they together long?” He seemed genuinely concerned.

  I let myself appreciate the kind light in his stunning blue eyes. One of my many regrets was my lack of heels. Who’d think you’d need heels to go to the supermarket? But at five foot five to his six-foot-plus, I missed them. I couldn’t enjoy the full effect of him from this angle.

  Faced with his sympathy, I softened. “Three years.”

  He winced. “Sorry. Can I do anything?”

  I stared at him, perplexed. He hadn’t even met Emily. Strangers didn’t offer strangers help. Okay, maybe I was overexaggerating. Some people helped strangers; I’d just never had any of them in my life.

  “Why would you do that?” I asked, my words drawn out as I tried to figure him out.

  “You said she’s a fan of Rhiannon, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Maybe a gift from the band would make her feel a little better.”

  “I’m not seeing how a signed poster could erase catching your boyfriend in bed with another woman, but thank you.”

  He grimaced before ploughing on. “I was thinking more a signed copy of the new album. It dropped last week.”

  I hadn’t heard Emily playing any new albums on repeat recently. Maybe she hadn’t bought it yet. That kind of present would definitely make her day and distract her for a while.

  “Okay… you might be onto something.”

  Ryan smiled. “Great. I’ve got some in the car. I can grab you a copy before I leave.”

  “Thanks. She’d love it,” I said, releasing the freezer handle. The door swished closed.

  He glanced down at the basket. “Those really are breakup snacks, right? You’re not looking for a sugar high to recover from last night’s awful gig?”

  I smirked. “It was pretty awful. I don’t understand why your friends chose that place.”

  He shrugged, frowning at the memory of the night. “They didn’t. The manager did, and words have already been had.” His face relaxed as he considered me. “That was your first gig, wasn’t it?”

  “No, I went to some in uni. I can’t stand the crowds or loud music.”

  He nodded; an intense light entering his eyes. “They aren’t all that terrible.”

  I widened my eyes. “You mean there are venues where your feet don’t sick to the floor and the walls aren’t slimy with sweat?”

  He leaned in with a conspiratorial look. “Some of them even have good wine.”

  I gasped. “Where have these mythical places been my whole life?”

  “Right down the street from the shitty ones.”

  We grinned at each other, his amusement mirroring my own.

  He leaned in. “But seriously, if you ever want to try again, Axel’s is pretty good.”

  “That’s the place opposite Jacksons, right?” I asked and he nodded. “I’d heard they were both good.”

  “Then why haven’t you been?”

  “Time and better things to do with it.”

  He held his hand to his chest, mock shock written all over his face. “There’s nothing better to do with your time than listen to good music.”

  I laughed at his dramatics. “There is if I can dance and listen to good music without a crowd of sweaty people blocking my view.”

  He scoffed. “Then you haven’t experienced a great gig. If you’re noticing the crowd then the band isn’t doing their job. We need to fix that.”

  I laughed. “Hard thing for you to remedy from Glasgow.”

  “I have my ways,” he said, grinning. His eyes dropped to my basket again. “Are you finished?”

  I assessed the array of colourful packets. “Yeah, I think I got every bizarre thing she listed.”

  “Are you sure? There’s no alcohol.”

  I grimaced. “I’m hoping she won’t notice. I’m not made for hangovers anymore.”

  Understanding softened his clear gaze. “I know that feeling far too well. Shall we go grab that album?”

  “Seeing you, I’ve forgotten what I came in for in the first place,” Ryan said when we stopped outside the shop with our bags in hand. “But I’m glad I did. I was hoping for a second chance.”

  “A second chance?”

  “To ask you out.”

  I chuckled. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” I failed to mask the admiration in my tone. His confidence astounded me.

  “You rushed off so fast last night I thought I’d blown it.”

  For all my sense, I’d have to be dead not to be interested in him, but I still broke out in a cold sweat at the mere thought of investing any emotional effort in another person. The simple act of getting ready for a date made me want to take a very long nap these days.

  “I’m only in town today, so what do you say? Shall we grab a coffee or something?” he asked, his tone light and optimistic. He raised his eyebrows, daring me to say yes.

  “Why ask me out if we’ll never see each other again?”

  Who goes on a date with someone knowing they’re leaving town the very same day? Maybe I’d misunderstood and all he wanted from me was sex. Which was great and all, but that’s a different train wreck waiting to happen with this man.

  “It’s just coffee.” He studied me with a smirk that lit his eyes. It was a swoon-worthy sight I’d like to frame. “Where’s the harm?”

  I snorted. “It’s never just coffee.”

  “It might not be, but how will we know if we don’t go out?”

  Jumping the gun a little, but what if “just coffee” actually turned into something? Or I believed it did, at least. It wouldn’t just be a waste of my limited time off work; it could be a waste of months. I’d been here before. Next, we’d be exchanging numbers and getting caught up in a daily stream of text messages until one day he met someone in Glasgow and he disappeared.

  “Look, I’m flattered, but this…” I gestured between us. “I can’t right now.”

  “At least it wasn’t a flat-out no,” he said, his eyes creasing with his smile. “I can work with that.”

  I was nodding before his words registered. Wait. What?

  Ryan glanced towards the car park. “Wait here. I’ll grab the album for you.”

  I watched him run across the road. A red Ford flashed as he approached and he opened the boot.

  Regret slammed into my chest as I watched him retreat. It made no sense. I was protecting myself from making the same mistakes I always did, from wasting weeks and months agonising over little inconsequential details. But why did I feel like I was making a bigger mistake rejecting him?

  When he returned to me, I met him with a friendly smile. I had a handle on my uncertainties now. They were going to stay firmly in their box and out of my choices.

  “Here you go.” He handed me the album while his gaze roamed my face. “I hope it helps her.”

  “Thanks.” For a moment, I almost went back on my refusal. He seemed so honest. Could I just give him one day? But then I imagined the heartache he could cause if I let things go beyond that, and I couldn’t do that to myself again. “Enjoy the rest of your time in Cardiff.”

  “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I can’t believe you ran into him again and still didn’t get me any contact details,” Emily bitched as we weaved our way through the crowded bar. The room was long but narrow, with the chrome bar taking up one wall and a stage set up at the very end of the room with a busy dance floor laid out before it. Shiplap and exposed brick fought for dominance in the eclectic space.

 
“Still not going to apologise,” I muttered, distracted by the sheer number of couples littering the bar. Sure, there were groups of friends mixed in, but everywhere I looked, pairs flooded my vision. It wasn’t new, I knew that. No sudden wave of Cupid’s arrows in Cardiff. I just mustn’t have noticed before.

  “Earth to Alys. Can we get a drink, please? Honestly, what am I going to do with you?” she tutted, taking my hand and pulling me through the crowd to the bar.

  A stocky dark-haired guy stepped out of her way, and she rewarded him with a huge grin. His eyes flitted over her and the answering curve of his lips was a pathetic sight to see. He thought he’d scored big.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, surprising me with a northern accent. Perfect one-night stand material if she wanted him. Emily nodded, and he joined us at the crowded bar.

  Initially, I had picked a far more sedate outfit for myself, wanting to leave all the flirting to Emily and just have her back like she had mine. She’d had other ideas, however. She’d taken one look at my skinny jeans and booted feet and started throwing clothes at me.

  No amount of protesting would convince her that the short, extremely low-cut and tight-fitted black dress I’d bought for Halloween three years ago wasn’t appropriate for this night out. Then she’d turned to my face. Once Emily gets a make-up brush and a palette in her hands, there’s no stopping her.

  The stocky northerner handed me a glass of red wine. I felt a tiny bit cheeky for accepting it, particularly when Emily thanked him and walked off to the dance floor, appearing to forget that he existed. I couldn’t make myself look at him to check for a reaction and just chased after her.

  If she pulled more of that shit tonight, she’d have angry men lining up to take a pop at her. I didn’t care how “fine” she claimed to be; that was not what she needed in her state.

  “What was that?” I grabbed her arm, stopping her before I lost her in the crowd again. She stared back at me, her expression blank. “The drinks, Em. Why did you accept them?”

  Her eyebrows puckered in confusion. “He offered.”

  “They don’t buy you drinks out of the goodness of their heart. You know that.”