#Moonstruck_A #Lovestruck Novel

by Sariah Wilson

  But what if I was just a regular old mix?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Instead of letting myself sit there and wallow, I drove to the grocery store and loaded up on enough junk food to feed my entire family. After I went to Ryan’s house and put my groceries away, I went out for a run and let all the stress and anxiety get eaten up by the pounding of my feet against the pavement. Then I took a long, steamy, relaxing shower and got ready for dinner. I heard Ryan come home, and he called out to me. I told him I was getting ready. I didn’t want to see him yet. I took the time to blow-dry my hair and put on makeup. Like it was some kind of armor against the world and what they thought of me.

  Or maybe I was just afraid he’d see through me. See what his fans saw.

  At six thirty I went downstairs and found Ryan sitting at a grand piano, playing a tune I didn’t recognize. My heart constricted when I saw him. He was so gorgeous. He’d styled his hair and put on a dark-blue button-down shirt with rolled-up sleeves and black slacks. We almost looked like we’d coordinated our outfits. He must have heard my heels against the hardwood floor because he turned when I entered the room.

  “Wow. I don’t want to objectify you, but in my mind I just totally objectified you. You’re beautiful.”

  How did he manage to make me blush and laugh at the same time? “I would say the same, but you already have the whole world telling you how handsome you are.” He didn’t need me to make his head any bigger.

  “But your opinion is the only one that matters.” He crossed the room to hug me and then kissed me gently. I reached up to brush my lipstick from his mouth.

  “In that case, you’re gorgeous, and you know it.”

  He rewarded me with a bone-melting smile and said we should be going. He called Fox and told him we were ready.

  “Does he know?” I asked as a black SUV rolled up the driveway.

  “He has no idea. He just thinks he’s coming to watch out for me.”

  On the drive to the restaurant, Ryan told me about his day. From his tone it sounded like his meeting with his father had not gone well after Ryan told him he’d already handed over the financial aspects of his career to a business manager.

  “You should fire your father.” Ryan needed someone looking out for his best interests. Someone who would put him and his career first.

  “He’s my dad.”

  “I know. But look at what he’s put you through. The sacrifices he forced you to make because of his bad decisions. You can’t make the music you want. You can’t do the kinds of shows you want. You’re stuck. You need someone who will fight for you.” Although I didn’t say his father was not that person, I hoped my implication came through loud and clear. Bah. Screw implications. “You deserve better.”

  Ryan nodded and squeezed my hand. He stayed quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Like he was considering what I’d said, and I gave him the space to think about it.

  We arrived at the restaurant, and Fox told us to stay in the car while he scouted the place. A minute later he returned to let us know we were okay to go inside. I watched as the hostess eyed my boyfriend and tugged on her shirt to give herself more cleavage.

  I also watched as my boyfriend totally ignored her advances. Which gave me the strength to not trip her as she showed us to our table.

  Ryan helped pull out my chair, which I thought was so sweet.

  Then I reconsidered my not-tripping decision when the hostess bent down in front of him and said, “My name is Anna. I would be happy to help you with any of your needs. Your server is Jordan and should be over shortly.”

  Ryan didn’t even seem to notice her flirting, and I tried not to gloat when she left, disappointed. Instead, he beckoned Fox over with his hand. “Have a seat.”

  “A seat?” It was like Fox had just realized that we were at a table with four settings. So much for those keen detection skills.

  “We insist,” I told him, clamping my lips together to keep from ruining the surprise.

  But he stood behind Ryan’s chair, hesitating.

  Then Angie came in wearing a baby-pink sheath that made her look stunning. As Fox’s expression made perfectly clear.

  Ryan stood when she got to the table. His mother and aunt had certainly raised him well. My mom would have loved his manners.

  Angie said hi to us and seated herself before either man could move. With a dazed look on his face, Fox took the seat next to her. I reached over to grab Ryan’s hand, excited as Angie and Fox said hello to each other, both surprised.

  Our waiter, Jordan, came over to get our drink order and see if we wanted any appetizers. Ryan ordered the empanadas de tasajo for the table. Jordan left, and Ryan told us to order whatever we wished; tonight was on him.

  “Oh, I couldn’t possibly let you—they have lobster tail?” Angie said, going from demure to giddy acceptance in less than five seconds.

  I asked Ryan for his recommendations, and he told me what he liked best. They were mainly vegetarian or low-carb/low-fat options. I decided to pick something he hadn’t listed.

  And to ignore all the fiery tingles he caused by leaving his hand on my knee.

  The server returned with our drinks, took the rest of our order, and promised to be back with the appetizers shortly.

  Ryan had a greenish drink that smelled disgusting. “What is that?”

  “A bunch of stuff. Mostly spinach and acai berry.”

  “Gross. I’m not kissing you after you drink that.”

  “Yeah, you will.” He was right. I would. “I’ll have you know that acai berry is a superfood.”

  “Is its superpower that you can’t drink it without getting sick?”

  He laughed and kissed the tip of my nose.

  “So, Ryan, are you excited for the US Music Awards this week?” Angie asked, and I immediately felt guilty that we weren’t being very attentive to the couple across the table.

  “Excited might be a strong word. I love performing, but it’s work.”

  I put the linen napkin on my lap. “Angie, you’re still coming with me to the rehearsals tomorrow, right?”

  “Yes! I’m so excited. It will be a lot of fun.” She turned her attention back to Ryan. “What award are you up for?”

  I wanted to laugh. Like Angie didn’t know exactly what Ryan was nominated for, who his competition was, and the odds of each one winning.

  “I’m going to win for Best Male Artist—Rock/Pop.” Then he leaned toward me. “See how rock and pop go together?”

  “That’s some confidence,” I shot back. “That veered into arrogance territory.”

  “It’s not arrogance. It’s knowledge. So many of these awards shows are rigged. The winners know beforehand so they’ll be sure to show up. You can even read the fine print on their websites. They say they can give awards to whomever they want. Especially ones like these that the fans vote for. Have you ever noticed how they never show you the voting totals?”

  Angie’s mouth hung open. “My inner fourteen-year-old is now furious that she spent so many hours repeatedly voting for Justin Timberlake to win best video.”

  Ryan grinned. “It’s more about the fashion and performances. Nobody really talks about who won but about what they wore and what they did when they were onstage. The networks are looking for viewership and social media engagement. Sometimes they’ll make the fans happy; sometimes they’ll push them to be unhappy because of the uproar they’ll cause online when they feel like their favorite artist has been slighted somehow.”

  “I’ll be sure to tune in for the performances and fashion, then. Speaking of, what are you wearing to the awards show, Maisy?”

  Something else I’d totally overlooked. Ryan really did distract me. “I have nothing to wear.”

  “I bet showing up wearing nothing will get the show a lot of attention,” she teased.

  “I know I wouldn’t mind it.” Ryan winked at me. He took out his phone briefly and then slid it back into his pocket. “Done.”

 
“Done?”

  “I just tweeted that my gorgeous girlfriend needs a dress for the USMAs. At least twenty designers will call my agent by ten o’clock tonight, and you’ll get to pick and choose which one has the privilege of providing you a dress.”

  It was hard to imagine a life like his. Ryan seemed so normal and down-to-earth when we were together that I often forgot about how wealthy and famous he was. Moments like this really drove it home, reminding me how different we were.

  Just like the Luna-tics had pointed out.

  Angie stood, and then so did Ryan and Fox. “I’m going to visit the ladies’ room. Maisy, come with me?” She had to tug on my arm to get me to join her.

  “You got that panicky look on your face,” Angie said once we were out of earshot of the guys. “The one where you’re about to say or do something stupid.”

  “Thanks for saving me from myself.”

  “Any time. That’s what friends are for.”

  The pristine bathroom had this elegant old-world feel to it. We used the facilities, washed our hands, and touched up our makeup.

  “You probably should have told me this was a setup,” Angie said, looking at me in the mirror.

  “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

  “I would have come. Did Fox know?”

  “Nope.”

  “That’s probably a good thing. He gets really nervous on dates. Hector told me this story once about Fox’s first date after they finished basic training.”

  As I listened to her recounting Fox’s disastrous date that involved inadvertently breaking an expensive statue and setting the tablecloth on fire, I realized that for the first time in a long time, Angie seemed really happy. Even if nothing happened with Fox, at least she was willing to take a step in that direction. She would have come even if I’d told her it was a setup. That Angie might be willing to love again.

  I knew she’d never forget Hector but was glad she was open to the possibility of finding someone new to share her life with.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You just seem happy,” I told her. “I’ve been noticing you’ve been able to talk about Hector and say his name without getting emotional.”

  “I have?” She seemed to ponder this. “I guess you’re right. I have. I still miss him all the time, but every day does get a bit easier. Turns out that time-healing-all-wounds thing might have some merit, after all.”

  Angie put her powder compact in her purse. “Okay, now I want to know what’s going on with you and Ryan. Nothing about you two seems like a fake relationship. What changed your mind about being together?”

  “I saw another side of him, I guess. He’s a really good—”

  “Kisser?” Angie supplied, making me laugh.

  “Yes, but he’s also a good guy.” Maybe too good.

  “It’s like you’re living an actual fairy tale.”

  I couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. I knew this was no fairy tale. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I don’t think there will be a happily ever after in our future. He’s in the major leagues, and I’m not even on the farm team.”

  “I don’t know what that means. But if you’re trying to say he’s out of your league, not true. You are fabulous.”

  This was why we were friends.

  “Even if it doesn’t end well,” she continued, “at least the middle part will have been completely awesome.”

  Time to tell her all of it. “We made it official last night.”

  “You did? How did you make it official?” She waggled her eyebrows at me.

  “Not like that. We agreed to be exclusive, and he . . . he said he loved me.” Telling Angie made it feel more real.

  “What?” Then she screamed. Actually screamed with excitement while jumping up and down. Like she was at one of Ryan’s concerts.

  A few seconds later, Fox came running into the women’s bathroom, his hand on his weapon in his belt. “What happened?”

  “We’re fine,” I told him. “Angie’s just happy for me.”

  Fox took another quick look around and left, muttering something about giving him a heart attack, which struck both of us as hilarious, and we busted out laughing.

  “Did you see that?” I asked when our laughter finally faded.

  “Did I see what? Fox run in here like a crazy person?”

  “Fox left Ryan and came running in to save you. He’s being paid to protect Ryan, and he didn’t think twice about leaving him behind.” I knew Fox had feelings for Angie, but I wanted her to know it, too. “Isn’t that interesting?”

  She looked thoughtful. “It is interesting.”

  We left the restroom and rejoined Ryan and Fox. This time Fox took a cue from his boss and helped Angie with her chair.

  I whispered in Ryan’s ear. “We should go. Have the server pack up our food, and let’s leave Fox and Angie alone.”

  “Are you trying to have me all to yourself, Miss Harrison?”

  “Absolutely.” I pressed a soft kiss against his jaw, right under his ear.

  He immediately stood. “We have to get going. Something’s come up. But please stay and enjoy—my treat. Before you say anything, Fox, we’re headed straight home.”

  Home. It wasn’t my home, but when Ryan said the word, it felt like it was.

  The server was at another table nearby, and after he finished, Ryan gave him his credit card with the instructions to take extra good care of Fox and Angie. Then he asked him to pack our food. We waited at the bar for it to arrive.

  “Why did you tell Fox we were headed to your house?”

  “Because it’s the only place he would let us go without him.” He had his arm around my waist. His nose nuzzled my neck, and I used the bar to help me stay vertical. “It’s cute how much of a matchmaker you’ve turned out to be.”

  “Just for Angie. She deserves all the happiness in the world.”

  “So do you. I plan on making sure you get it.”

  What else could I do but kiss him again?

  Jordan interrupted us by bringing out a big bag, and we thanked him. Ryan’s driver waited out front, and a single paparazzo stood on the sidewalk, taking pictures of us. I wondered how he knew where we were. Who would have called him? The hostess?

  I didn’t have long to think about it before we were in the car and on our way. Ryan told the driver after he dropped us off he should grab one of the bodyguards and go back to give Fox keys to a car to use to drive Angie home.

  Sometimes the logistics of his life were a little exhausting.

  Ryan tugged me over and wrapped me in his arms. I settled my head against his shoulder and sighed when I felt him drop a kiss on the top of my head. “It seemed like something was bothering you earlier, but we spent the ride over talking about my dad. Did something happen?”

  My experience growing up with men had taught me they were generally oblivious. I liked that Ryan recognized when I wasn’t quite acting like myself. I told him about Elaine and the recipe.

  “That’s good. Now you have the recipe you’ve spent so much time searching for.”

  He was missing the point. “But it’s not what I thought it would be.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you thought it would be. You have it, and you can make your mom’s brownies for the rest of your life. That’s what matters.”

  “I actually bought the mix and frosting at the store today. I was thinking about making them when we get ho—when we get back to your house.”

  If he noticed my slip, he didn’t comment on it.

  Embarrassed, I rambled, “The whole thing made me sad, and then I did something I probably shouldn’t have. I went online and looked at comments on YouTube. They were not nice. At all. Your fans do not think we should be together, and it made me feel, I don’t know, insecure. They don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

  He reached over and lifted my chin so I could look at him. “Remember earlier when I told you the only person whose opinion matters to m
e is yours? When it comes to us, the only voices you should be listening to are yours and mine. It doesn’t matter what a million teen girls think of our relationship. It matters only what we think. I love you. I also like that you think of my place as home.”

  So much for him not noticing.

  Then he kissed me, softly, briefly, lovingly.

  Being with Ryan made me feel better. Being held by him, loved by him, made all those other awful words, insults, and doubts slip away.

  “So, Mr. De Luna, what exactly are your plans when you get me home?”

  “I can’t say. I’ve been told it’s not polite to kiss and tell.” His fingers ran across my collarbone, up my neck, and over my jaw. I couldn’t help but shudder.

  “Then maybe we could do some kissing and not telling.”

  He grinned. “Okay, you talked me into it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The next day, both of us still aglow from our yummy make-out session the night before, Ryan and I picked up Angie on our way to the theater. He told me that, as promised, he had a bunch of designs and pictures of dresses for me to look at. I wanted to get Angie’s opinion, too, since she always dressed so cute.

  We huddled together, scrolling through the photos. So many of the dresses were short, black, and covered in metal studs. Probably to appeal more to my rocker vibe. But I didn’t want to show up to the awards show looking like I’d just escaped from a biker gang.

  “I like this one” was something Ryan said repeatedly. Like the one that had a neckline down to the navel (navelline?). Or the one with the leg slit that went up to the same spot. Or the multiple dresses sporting see-through bodices. Now he was saying it about a strapless pink minidress that looked like it belonged at a prom on a much shorter girl.

  “I’m not wearing something strapless. I’m not dealing with tugging that thing up all night or trying to sit in something that short.”

  “I don’t see the problem. I think it would be flattering. I’m thinking only of you.”

  Yes, I was sure he was thinking only of me. I rolled my eyes. “Flattering? Yeah. Okay. Thinking only of me? By the way, you’re not as slick as you think you are.”