“When did I suggest open mic nights?”
“Just before I texted them.” Ryan took one look at my frown and chuckled. “You don’t remember?”
“I remember a lot of things, but that conversation is not one of them.”
“You suggested we play smaller informal venues if we wanted to get in practice and increase our South Wales following.” His words vaguely rang a bell. “I didn’t have enough new music to test out before now, so it wasn’t really an option. But we’re so close to the tour and I’m writing a lot of new stuff.”
Something told me all of that new music would be about me. My stomach plummeted and I swallowed hard. My grip on the mug tightened. I leaned against the counter, wearing what I hoped was a calm expression. Holding the steaming hot mug to my forehead, I pushed the anxiety back.
There was nothing I could do about his writing. The sooner I accepted it, the happier I would be.
“Sorry, I didn’t really give you a choice,” Ryan whispered, startling me as his lips brushed my ear.
If his stealth routine became a norm, I needed to tie a bell around his neck. But who would it annoy more, me or him?
His smile seemed reassuring, but his eyes laughed at me, enjoying my scare. He freed the mug from my hands and placed it on the worktop, all at a snail’s pace. It elicited the desired effect: I laughed.
He sobered quickly, studying me, and when he spoke, sincerity fuelled his words. “I wish I could promise to stop writing about you, but you seem to be my muse, and being blocked was too painful.”
“Painful how?”
“We’d just signed, and the words dried up.” Sadness seeped into his tone and I reached for his hand – anything to make it go away. “I was preparing myself to tell the guys I couldn’t handle it, that I was going to be the idiot that flushed our dream before the ink had even dried.”
“But that didn’t happen.”
“No, it didn’t, but only because I somehow forced my way through the block.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “Please don’t ever tell the guys, but I hated most of the tracks on our second album, the first the label ever paid for. It was just so fake and unoriginal.”
“People obviously liked it.” I squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him.
He met my gaze and shame stared back at me.
“I wrote what I thought people wanted to hear. All of them were empty of meaning and they weren’t good enough.” His features smoothed out as he considered me with something like awe. As he spoke, he became more animated, the shame and unease fading. “And then you walked into my life and fixed it. By the time I got back to Glasgow, I had five tracks written and the beginnings of many more, and they were real.”
My breath caught at the wonder in his eyes. No one had ever looked at me like I could solve all of their problems just by being.
“Our third album was nearly finished, and I made them throw it all out.”
“How did your label take that?”
He smirked. “They were livid, but once they heard the new music, they zipped their lips and let us get on with it.” Ryan’s hands slid over my cheeks as he leaned close. “You are the reason I can keep going. Before, getting on stage was a chore I dreaded, singing songs that felt like a farce. One glance at you and I felt lighter. You’re the reason I can get on the stage and perform.”
“I thought I was fine with never meeting you,” he continued. “That I was more than happy to live with a figment.” Ryan’s pleading eyes stared into mine. “When I saw you again, dancing at the Old Ballroom, I thought I was content to walk away. But then when I ran into you at the gig, I knew I couldn’t let you go.”
My throat closed up at the thought of never having met Ryan, of never experiencing his daring personality. I was better for having him in my life, even if some of it made me uneasy.
“I wouldn’t change a thing.” I stared into his eyes so he could read my sincerity.
“Not even after I got you glassed and concussed?” he murmured, the words a thread of uncertainty.
I shook my head. “Not even that. I’m glad I could help you, Ryan. It’s difficult for me, knowing people might be able to read into my personal life, but I’d rather inspire you than have someone else do it.”
“No one else could.”
I nodded. “I’ll get used to it, and I’m sure it’ll get easier to hear them. Just give me warning so I can prepare myself next time.”
The tension drained from him and he nodded. With barely any pressure, Ryan dragged his lips along my jaw and down my neck. Goose bumps broke out on my skin, and I shivered.
“Are you coming to practice?” he asked when we broke apart moments later.
“Sure. Let me shower and we can leave whenever you want.”
Without comment, he threw me over his shoulder fireman-style. Hand firmly on my butt, he sauntered out of the kitchen. “How about we share the shower and get going faster?”
“There’ll be nothing fast about us sharing a shower,” I murmured, my voice hazy and words slurred. My eyes were probably unfocused and the picture of love-drugged too.
“You might be right. Let’s find out.”
Chapter Thirty
The guys flew through practice, running through their entire set for the tour multiple times as well as multiple covers to loosen their fingers.
I could see the dark circles under Ryan’s eyes from his hangover, but it didn’t show in his performance. Even in practice, he seemed to give his all. His voice rose above the strains of the guitar and the thump of the drums, absorbed in the song.
When they slowed down and started in on the newer songs they’d played in Glasgow, he met my gaze and channelled it all at me again. Butterflies took flight in my stomach. The rest of the guys looked and sounded great too, but I only had eyes for Ryan.
Until him, I’d never been serenaded. Never wanted to be. Now, despite my unease, I hoped it never stopped.
The public aspect would always put me on edge, I didn’t think that would ever change. Instead, I chose to focus on what I could control. In a way, he’d invited me into his world, and I wanted to enjoy that, to appreciate that he wanted to share his feelings for me with their fans.
He’d immortalised us with his songs. With my past, that was no small thing. It was the musician equivalent of shouting from the rooftops.
After they stopped for a light lunch, Emily and I decided we’d leave them to it. We’d put off our Christmas shopping long enough. We agreed to meet the guys at their open mic that evening and left.
“Is this where Rhiannon are practicing?” A short man asked as we opened the door to the outside. He had a camera dangling from his neck. He stared at our blinking faces with impatience. “Did you hear me?” His tone bordered on irate. “Are Rhiannon in there?”
Emily and I shared a look and shrugged. We stepped forward so that the photographer had to shuffle backwards into the street. I slammed the door behind us, locking him out of the building. We walked down the street, our paces clipped.
“Can you believe that guy?” Emily muttered as we turned the corner.
I glanced over my shoulder, just in case he’d followed us. The street was empty.
“Do you think I should warn Ryan?”
“Nah, they’re used to it.” Emily linked her arm with mine, continuing our brisk pace into town. “Besides, their label will probably want the publicity.”
My agreeing nod was reluctant. That side of the music business still felt weird.
“At least he didn’t get any pictures of us with the guys. I know I’m a big fan, but I’m not ready for tabloids stalking us.” Emily shuddered, and I scowled at her.
“Thanks so much for that jinx.”
“I didn’t—” Her eyes widened as her protest died. “Shit. I take it back. There will be no tabloid photographers stalking either of us. Not now and not in the future.”
“Like that’ll work.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Yeah, I doubt it. Sorry.”<
br />
“Tell me what’s happening with Jared and I’ll consider forgiving you,” I said, my voice quiet but serious.
Emily eyed me, miraculously avoiding a lamppost as we reached the other side of the road.
“That’s emotional blackmail, Ms Morgan. Are you sure you want to go there?” she said.
“Are you going to share without it?”
Emily chewed her lip. “Probably not.”
“Then I’m sticking with it. Spill.”
“It was a mistake, alright?” she huffed, shrugging her shoulders so hard it ricocheted through me where she’d linked us together. “He was meant to sleep on the sofa, and I let him sweet-talk me. When I told you we were done, I meant it.”
“Didn’t seem that done this morning.”
Emily groaned. “Apparently, I have a weakness when it comes to Jared Michaels.” She turned in towards me as we walked, trusting me to keep her from knocking people down. “I didn’t expect it to be so hard to resist him. Now I know better. I can be stronger.”
“If you want more from him, why do you need to be stronger?”
Emily stare turned incredulous. “You’re joking, right?”
I shook my head, my brow furrowing.
“Al, you’re the queen of no attachment. Jared’s a player. If someone like him confronted you more than a month ago, you’d have told him where to shove his advances. You wouldn’t have hopped into bed with him.”
“True, but I’m not the one who decided she wanted casual sex a month ago.”
Emily groaned and let her head hang. “I had to try something.”
“You couldn’t have licked your wounds and bettered yourself like the majority of people?” I asked, genuinely intrigued. I hadn’t exactly reacted like the average woman either the first time. I never knew what drove me to that reaction. Maybe Emily had figured it out.
“What? And give Oliver the satisfaction of knowing he’d destroyed me?” she cried, loud enough to startle the guy stopped at the crossing besides us. “There was no chance I was letting that happen.”
Huh. Something about her indignation hit me. I’d always assumed I’d thrown myself into flings through fear of getting hurt again. What if it had all been for show?
“Makes sense. Is Jared definitely a fling?”
“If he’s not then he’s a rebound and neither are good.” She shook her head firmly. “No, Jared and I are done. No more sex. If he wants to be friends, great. I’ve made my point now.” She peeked at me from the corner of her eye just as the green man on the crossing flashed, her expression turning guilty. “Oliver’s stopped calling, so mission accomplished.”
I grinned. “Emily Roberts! You devious little bugger. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You might have stopped me.”
“Maybe, but this makes a heck of a lot more sense than you embracing one-night stands.”
She sighed. “I know. Would it be terrible of me to enjoy it for one more night?”
My lips twitched as I considered her hopeful face. “Are we talking about sex here?”
“No, just the attention. He really can be sweet when he wants to be.”
I shrugged. “I can’t see him caring. He’s the definition of a man whore.”
Emily’s smile slipped a little. “Yeah, he is,” she whispered, her tone firm. I wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, me or herself.
Chapter Thirty-One
The bar was half full when we stumbled in after seven, having crossed everything off our shopping lists. One glance at the crowd, and Emily and I shared a frown. The bar was in the centre of town and usually pulled in a varied crowd on the weekends. We expected weekdays to be hit or miss and started avoiding it once we graduated. Tonight, the ratios were off, and I couldn’t understand why.
There were people older than us gathered in pairs and groups, but the majority of the patrons looked too shiny and cherub-faced to be older than twenty. Normally, they’d have been pulled in by the cheap weekday drinks. The university and its halls were just down the road.
A girl wandered past, resplendent with a birthday girl banner that explained the shift. She bounced from one group to another, all smiles to what felt like the entire room. Her friends shuffled on their feet in short dresses and tight jeans with perfectly coiffed but over-product-filled hair. They necked shots and pints while people yelled, obnoxious and loud.
Had I ever been like that? I like to think I had a little more class in uni, but maybe not. I feel old.
Jared’s distinctive laugh overshadowed the music, freeing us from our sickening age awareness. Emily pushed back her shoulders, shaking off the negativity. She took my hand and ploughed through the crowd, bags first. For once in my life, I kept my muttered apologies to myself.
We found the guys surrounded by a group of girls in short, tight dresses. They barely looked twenty, and they were getting far too familiar. Ryan smiled at one in a yellow dress and my heart stuttered.
I’d been so concerned with all the temptations of the tour I hadn’t considered that there were just as many at home. If he wanted to cheat on me, he didn’t need to leave the country. The local pub would do the trick fine enough.
Lights flickered, and I was back in that club with my heart in my throat, the bass pounding painfully through my entire body. Liam leaned into his latest conquest and she giggled, spilling her drink on the floor.
Someone jolted me, and the memory shattered.
The girl took Ryan’s smile as permission to get closer and tried to fit herself beneath his arm. The breath stilled in my lungs while I waited for Ryan to react. He glanced down at her, his brows drawn together.
Hands on her shoulders, he pushed her away from him, shaking his head. My body relaxed, and I released a shaky, relieved breath. The girl stiffened in the telltale sign of rejection. She stared up at him, her own confusion plain. She tried to do it again, but Ryan stepped back.
Her friends paused in their conversations to eat up the unfolding drama. Ryan looked so pained that I decided it was time to put him out of his misery.
Almost as one, Emily and I started walking again. She pushed through the gaggle of girls. Jared met her gaze with a grin. He held out his hand and for a second, Emily hesitated. She shook her head and perched on the edge of his chair, falling into conversation with Dan.
Ryan’s amused gaze met mine as I weaved through the girls, causing most of them to stumble back thanks to my baggage.
“Did you miss me, baby?” I stepped into Ryan’s waiting arms. The heat of his body engulfed me, and my nerves calmed. His head lowered slowly, reading the dwindling fear in my gaze. Ryan’s kiss was slow and sweet. The kiss of a man I could easily love.
Next to me, the girl huffed. “Sorry, love, he’s taken,” I said against the light press of Ryan’s lips. Those simple words sent a tingle down my spine and I couldn’t suppress the urge to grin.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Ryan’s answering smile added to the intoxicating mix of adrenaline and affection pickling my brain.
“Maybe just a little.”
“Emily seems to be doing a good job of taming Jared.”
Jared wore a frown as he watched Dan and Emily chat. I chose to ignore it, keen to avoid all subjects involving Emily and Jared from now on. I leant back enough to note the absence of young university students.
“Why did you let that girl get so close?”
“I didn’t notice until she attached herself to me. She was asking questions about the music.” Ryan pressed his forehead to mine, groaning. “You know how I get when music’s on the table.”
“Pay more attention next time, cradle robber.”
He laughed, whether at my annoyance or insult, I wasn’t sure. “Were you jealous?”
“For a second. The result might have been different if you hadn’t pushed her away.”
“It’s a good thing I’ve got a present for you then, isn’t it?”
“When did you get me a present?” I asked with su
rprise.
“You’ll see.” Ryan promised. “Did you have a good afternoon?”
I nodded. “We bought Christmas presents and then tried on half the shop. Dress-up turned into dinner and dinner turned into cocktails. Now, about this present?”
Ryan smirked, his gaze shifting to the left. “Are we up, Dan?”
Dan nodded, picking up his bass while James and Jared finished their pints. The MC announced them without naming the band. James picked up his guitar and followed Dan to the stage with Jared drumming along his back.
“You know how you wanted to hear more of the tracks?” Ryan laughed at my swift nod. “I’m about to give you that wish.” He guided me into a seat next to Emily.
“You’re going on stage right now?”
“Yes.”
“To sing about me?”
“Also, yes.”
I let out a nervous sigh and nodded. “Okay.”
Ryan squeezed my shoulders, bringing my gaze back up to him. He stared down at me, concern creasing his features. “Are you okay with this?”
It was still unsettling, but I was determined to get used to it. I pushed him playfully. “What are you waiting for? Your new fans are waiting for you. I’ll be fine. Go.”
Ryan nodded and turned away. Before he could get far, I called out to him, springing from my seat.
“Red?” Ryan asked when he returned, scanning my face.
“Thank you for the heads up.” Placing a hand behind his neck, I pulled him down to me and kissed him. “Break a leg, music man.”
Ryan grinned, backing away from me, then disappeared into the crowd. He reappeared on stage wearing the same, smouldering smile.
Half the crowd screamed before Ryan had so much as approached the mic, proving that they did have a Cardiff following after all. The other half glanced around the room in confusion as people descended on the dance floor set before the stage.
“Hey, folks. We hope you’re enjoying the music tonight. We’re a little band called Rhiannon.” Ryan paused, his grin growing as the crowd cheered. “And we’re getting ready to go on tour at the end of the month, so we thought we’d try out some new music with you tonight. If you hear something you like, you can find us on all the usual channels.”
Chasing Alys Page 22
