Chasing Alys

by Morgana Bevan

  “Oh my God. Are those vegan pastéis de nata? Alys, stop! I need those in my life,” Emily cried, resisting my forward momentum.

  “They’ll still be there in ten minutes.” I pulled her hand, dragging her away. If I didn’t eat something unsweetened soon, my stomach was going to revolt, and I’d have no issue taking that out on my best friend.

  There was just one flaw in my plan that I hadn’t foreseen.

  Off to one side of the Indian stall stood my new drool-worthy shadow, encircled by a patch of autumn sunshine. He looked far too good in his leather jacket with the light playing across his long blond hair. My brain stalled. Why is he here?

  Jared, the redhead and another guy stood with him, all with varying degrees of annoyance marring their handsome faces.

  I stopped dead in my tracks, and Emily, startled, bumped into me, forcing me forward another step. All around us people muttered in disapproval, but I didn’t care. What the hell is he doing here?

  He hadn’t noticed me yet, which meant I still had a chance to escape unnoticed. I turned my back on him and met Emily’s amused gaze.

  “Did you do this?” I asked, incredulous. Betrayed by my best friend. What had they done with the real Emily?

  “Maybe.”

  I growled, and her smile grew. “Here’s my professional opinion: the only way to put trauma behind you is to take risks and face your fears head on.”

  “Could I not do that with someone a little less unpredictable?”

  “C’mon, Alys. The universe is trying to tell you something. He’s your choice and your heart wants him.”

  “That’s a statement of contradictions. If the universe is involved, I can’t have a choice. And as for my heart, it’s a fickle thing – it’ll get over it.” My gaze ricocheted around the confined space, searching for an easy way out. Down the back of the tents could work, assuming they all left a small passageway between the fabric and the railings bordering the river. The spicy scent of Indian food tried to distract me, but I forced the craving away. “Change of plan. Let’s get those pastéis de natas and get out of here. We can grab brunch instead.”

  “No chance! You’ll thank me one day.” She didn’t wait for me to respond, just raised her arm and shouted to Jared. Our roles reversed until she was the one dragging me through the crowd, to my doom. “Just enjoy his company.”

  As soon as we reached them, Emily dropped my hand and stepped into Jared’s arms. So much for a one-night stand! The shock of it erased any nerves about dealing with Ryan from my immediate thoughts. Worry for my best friend ruled.

  “What happened to leaving this morning?” I squeaked, my eyes darting between the five of them.

  Crickets followed my question, and everyone but Ryan and Emily averted their eyes.

  “Dan here needs to run some errands for his grandmother. Right, Dan?” Jared said, his voice strained as he elbowed the red-headed guitarist in the side.

  Dan’s lips pinched together. “You couldn’t have chosen anyone but my gran?”

  Jared tensed beneath Dan’s disapproving gaze. At my side, Ryan shook his head as they started to glare at each other. “Dude!”

  Dan’s gaze settled on Ryan. “Just tell her the truth. Shaun’s a big boy. He can handle people knowing he’s too cheap to hire movers to pack up his flat.”

  Jared scoffed. “Seriously! That man’s more concerned about his image than a beauty blogger.”

  Ryan nudged my shoulder. “You already know Jared, and I’m sure you guessed that the surly redhead is Dan.” Ryan pointed to the fourth member of their band. He leaned against a tree with his arms crossed, smirking at his arguing friends. “The one with the clock tattooed on his arm is James. He considers himself our social media guru.”

  “Mock all you like, but 2.5 million streams don’t magically happen,” James quipped.

  “Oh, before I forget,” Emily cried, cutting James an apologetic look as she left Jared’s side. She turned to Ryan, beaming. “Thank you for the album, Ryan. It’s amazing.”

  For such a confident man, he looked mildly uncomfortable at her appreciation. “I’m glad you liked it. Hope it helped you feel better.” He shifted from side to side, his eyes flying around the group before settling on me. “Have you eaten yet?” He scanned my face. “I got the impression you were too busy avoiding me this morning to stop for food.” He smiled, appearing unaffected, but his eyes betrayed him.

  Had I hurt his feelings?

  Yet he just kept coming back for more. A weaker man would have walked away the first time I rejected him. That fact pleased my stupid heart no end.

  Chapter Thirteen

  James quickly disappeared, muttering about social media plans, and Dan followed after him. With Emily and Jared further down the stalls, there was nothing else for me to do but eat and figure out Ryan.

  I absently scanned the crowd while we waited in the queue for Indian food. For now, everyone appeared too absorbed in their own lives to gawk at Ryan, but would it last?

  “I completely forgot. Hold on,” Ryan said, circling my attention back to him. He pulled his hair into a low ponytail then withdrew a black Cardiff Dragons cap and sunglasses from his back pocket. With his disguise in place, he held out his arms. “Better?”

  My lips twitched. “You call that a disguise?”

  He grinned. “It’s the best I could do at short notice.”

  I shook my head and stepped up to the glass case holding some of my favourite goodies. I doubted a pair of sunglasses and an ice hockey hat would outwit their determined fans, but I appreciated the effort.

  Samosas in hand, I removed myself from the crowd, confident that Ryan would follow. I headed for the thick white railings overlooking the river. I hadn’t even bitten into one of the spicy goodies when Ryan joined me.

  He studied the river and I not-so-subtly studied him from the corner of my eye. The smirk I’d come to expect from him was wiped clean. He stared up at the spaceship-esque red, white and blue Millennium Stadium on the other side of the water with a solemn expression. It might have been my imagination, but he looked sad, lost even. He caught me watching and smiled, forcing his brows to smooth out.

  Two huge samosas down, I closed the bag and waited. Ryan turned to face the crowd, his arm brushing mine on the railing. The feel of his bare skin against mine ignited a small spark, like electricity running up my arm. Tiny hairs rose, and I shivered.

  “So maybe I came on too strong,” he admitted. “I skipped an important step, and my chasing you clearly isn’t winning me any ground.”

  I would have smiled had he not been watching me from beneath those dark glasses. I bit my tongue. He hadn’t actually told me anything I didn’t know. Plus, I kind of liked him sweating.

  When minutes ticked by and I remained silent, he groaned, turning to face me. “I have a proposition and I really hope you’ll get behind this one. Let’s wipe the slate clean and start over.” He looked so hopeful I had to get a firm grip on my runaway mouth before I made promises I couldn’t keep. “This isn’t me conceding defeat, by the way.”

  “Yeah, I really needed that clarification.”

  He chuckled. He could take sarcasm; that might have been a point in his favour.

  “So, what do you say? Can we give this another shot?”

  I turned to him fully and held out my hand, smiling. “I’m Alys,” I said, forcing a lightness to my voice the flutters in my stomach negated.

  “Ryan. Nice to meet you, Alys.” He took my offered hand, his smile sweet. “Full disclosure: I’m the frontman of an up-and-coming alternative rock band called Rhiannon. We’re getting kind of big, and it can be a bit much sometimes.”

  “Thanks for the warning, friend.” I couldn’t quite contain the bite in my tone. Why hadn’t he thought to warn me the first time we met?

  I tugged on the hand he still held, a subtle reminder that I’d like it back. His hold tightened briefly before he released me. Down the line of stalls we went, sampling far too many swee
t treats. To Ryan’s credit, not a word of dissent passed his lips; he equalled me in every bite. It was kind of refreshing.

  To the outside world, we blended with the other couples enjoying the Sunday market. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed in a man’s company. I guess my head had always been bursting with too many questions and critiques to really enjoy a moment. Too busy searching for a clue or sign of I don’t even know what.

  Eventually, he removed the glasses, slipping them into his pocket without a word. “Sorry. I feel ridiculous wearing these. Do you mind?”

  I shook my head. No one had so much as looked at him for longer than a second anyway. Maybe he only drew attention when he’d just come off stage.

  “You and Emily seem pretty close.”

  “Yeah, she moved into the village when I was ten, brought some much-needed life and excitement with her. She had a feisty comeback for every teacher. There was this one day in gym, the bell rang for our next class and she’d climbed to the top of the rope and refused to come down. We had physics next and she hated it.” I smiled, remembering the memory of fearless Emily. “She made it her mission to get me in trouble as often as possible.”

  Ryan laughed. “Sounds like she was a handful.”

  “She was and is. I’m not sure what I’d have done without her all these years.”

  “I’m like that with the guys. Most of what I told you the other night was true. I moved to Glasgow and never found a reason to come home.” He sounded so wistful it reminded me of the flash of sadness I’d caught earlier. I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his. Relief replaced the edge of sadness, and for a second, I questioned my actions. Don’t do that, Alys, if you don’t want to lead him on.

  “Simpler times… we just wanted to play music and enjoy ourselves.”

  “Why is that different now?”

  “There’s more pressure, I guess. More stress and fewer people we can trust to keep our best interests at heart.” He gazed at me with that awful hope. Like I was someone he could trust.

  It felt dangerous to keep pushing him on the subject, and chicken that I was, I dropped it fast before he revoked his fresh-start offer.

  “What did you study in uni?” I asked, turning into his side to squeeze past a large guy more focused on his girlfriend than the crowd around him.

  “I dropped out of a product design course after two years. I guess the idea of purposely designing things and then stripping features out for later models got to me.” His tone was matter of fact as we paused at a dark-bannered coffee stall. He pointed at it with a questioning tilt of his head.

  “Oat milk hot chocolate, please.”

  Ryan nodded and pulled me into the short line.

  “You didn’t want to be part of the consumer problem,” I said, continuing our conversation as though his caffeine fix hadn’t interrupted us.

  He ordered our drinks and we stepped to the side of the booth to wait while a young woman whipped up orders at lightning speed.

  “Exactly. It’s not good for us or the environment.”

  “Could you have focused on companies who agreed with your ethics, maybe help to design solutions?”

  The woman pushed a takeaway cup towards Ryan with a coy smile. I bit my cheek hard to contain the irritation such a small smile ignited. We weren’t dating. I’d refused him. Women could look at him however they liked.

  Ryan muttered a brief thanks to the barista and placed the hot chocolate in my hand. Her smile fell in disappointment, and I quelled the victory thrill that shot through my bloodstream. We stepped back into the slow-moving crowd, keeping close but nursing our drinks.

  “It didn’t occur to me until much later that could even be an option,” he admitted before taking a sip from his cup. “But I was a stupid nineteen-year-old who thought he knew best. The band took off before I figured it out.”

  “How did you guys meet?”

  Shock flickered across his expression. “I thought you would have looked us up after last night.”

  “I didn’t think I would see you again.” Truthfully, I’d resisted the temptation, too concerned that kind of background information would prolong the wondering after he left.

  He nodded. “We were all in the same secondary school. I wasn’t close to James or Dan, but we had friends in common – Shaun Martin, actually. Jared and I had been friends all through school.” He paused, taking another sip. “We all ended up studying at the University of Glasgow. I don’t really remember the first night we hung out, but a group of us went to one of those mixed-talent gigs a few weeks after Freshers. I got talking to James, and the rest was history.”

  “Just talking to James formed a band?”

  “Not exactly.” Ryan winced. “It was bit like the other night. We spent the entire evening shit talking about the bands, and in our drunken state we decided we could do better.”

  I laughed. “And did you?”

  “Not initially. Screeching cats sounded better than us when we first got in a room together.”

  “Did you keep any evidence? I’m sure Emily would love to see it,” I asked, failing to hide my amusement.

  He snorted. “If I had, James would have burnt it all.”

  At last, we arrived at the pastéis de nata stall Emily had spotted. They had been my favourite dessert before going vegan three years before – Portuguese custard tarts with their cinnamon tops scorched. I’d missed them so much and I just wasn’t talented enough in the kitchen to attempt to make my own. This was the first time I’d seen a vegan option.

  We bought six and decided to escape the crowd to enjoy them in peace. Impatient to try one, I bit into the custardy goodness before we’d even stopped. A citrus bite gave the entire thing a new spin. It was good enough to draw a moan from my lips.

  “You alright there?” Ryan asked, swallowing hard.

  I nodded, slightly embarrassed by my outburst. He watched me with an intensity that made my body tingle.

  “They’re really good. You should try one,” I said, breaking eye contact as fast as I could. I felt my face glowing and ducked my head to minimise the damage.

  I held one out to him before sense could rear its head. He smirked, wrapping his fingers around my wrist before lowering his mouth to bite into the pastry.

  “Hmm, that is good,” he muttered, making eye contact all the while. He leaned in to take the rest of it from my fingers, his teeth grazing the tips and flipping my stomach. Heat flooded me, and my eyes widened as his darkened. This may have been a mistake.

  “We should find Emily and Jared,” I said a little too loudly before rushing off into the crowd muttering obscenities at myself.

  What were you thinking with that move? Simple: I hadn’t been.

  I was enjoying the attention too much. Now it was lulling me, making me question my stance on one night. Yes, he’d prolonged his stay, but that wouldn’t last indefinitely. Eventually he would go back to Glasgow, and the longer he tried to woo me, the harder the regret would hit.

  Maybe I should just sleep with him. It might scratch the itch and get it out of our systems. Then he’ll leave, and I can go back to focusing on myself.

  “I can’t see them,” Ryan said. The sound of his voice made me jump, and I glanced over my shoulder at him, blushing. He was searching the crowds gathered around the stalls, oblivious to the thoughts that flew through my head.

  I mentally shook myself. Hooking up would be a disaster. I wasn’t wired for casual sex anymore – although Emily seemed to think it was as easy as flipping a switch.

  I joined Ryan in searching the dwindling crowd for my pixie-haired friend. Frowning at passers-by, I remembered her broken phone.

  “Can you call Jared? It’ll make this faster.”

  He pulled out his phone and dialled. It went to voicemail at first but second time lucky. I listened while they made a plan to pick Jared up.

  “They’re at your flat,” he said, his face curiously devoid of emotion. She and Jared had gott
en impatient waiting for us and gone back to the flat to wait. A likely excuse. The only impatience they had experienced was in the taxi ride home. “I guess I get to keep you to myself for a little while longer then.”

  “Actually, I should probably get back too. I’m going home tomorrow and still need to pack.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “St Osian in West Wales.” It was a tiny village on the coast with very little going on.

  Surprise widened Ryan’s eyes. “Really? I’ll add West Walian to the list of things I didn’t expect from you.”

  “You have a list?” I asked, grinning despite myself.

  Ryan chuckled. “No, but it would be a pretty short list. Comes from West Wales, doesn’t like rock and eats a lot of sweets.”

  “I’ve never said I don’t like rock.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Ryan held his hand to his chest. “You just don’t like my rock.”

  “Also didn’t say that. I said I like music with lyrics and you weren’t bad, but I wasn’t obsessed.” He opened his mouth to argue with me, mirth shining in his gaze as we dodged people. I continued before he could speak more lies. “I’m just not that picky, and I like things that sound good. I might love one track and hate the rest of a band’s work.”

  Ryan groaned. “Don’t say that to a perfectionist. Do you have any idea how long it took the guys to convince me that the tenth take of a particular set of vocals was actually the best?”

  I pressed my lips together, amused. He looked so pained and yet energised. There was an extra bounce in his step I hadn’t noticed before.

  “Three weeks. I obsessed over perfecting a song for three weeks before I conceded defeat.” He pointed at me, his expression stern but cracking around the edges with laughter. “Don’t tell a musician you like one song but hate the rest.”