by Amy Briggs
Everyone else was on lower floors, so she and I rode up the remaining floors together in silence.
“After you.” I motioned for her to go ahead of me when the doors opened.
“Thank you,” she said, looking down at her key envelope. “What room are you in?”
“Seven twenty-three,” I replied, without looking. “You?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Seven twenty-one,” she grinned. “Looks like we’re neighbors.”
“It would appear so,” I smiled back.
When we arrived at her door, I continued on to mine, and before we entered our respective rooms, we glanced over at each other, meeting eyes. We’d never really addressed our closeness, but it was there, building, like our own personal elephant in the room. And after we’d laid down together, I knew she was feeling it too, .The way she lingered when she touched me wasn’t the way you touched a man you had no interest in.
“Well, goodnight,” she said quietly, holding her door open.
“Good night, Miss Royal, sleep tight,” I murmured, waiting for her door to shut behind her before I entered mine.
When I got in my room, I dropped my bag to the ground and leaned up against the door, running my hands through my hair. What the fuck are you going to do about this? You know better. But I also didn’t care.
When I got into my room, I tossed my bag on the bed, and flopped down next to it, facedown. What the fuck is going on with me? With this dude? He seemed into me, but that could totally be my perception of his kindness. I was fucking horrible at this. But goddamn if he wasn’t comfortable as hell in that bed on the bus. I’d hoped he couldn’t hear my heart pounding through my chest while I laid there next to him, but then again, I could hear his. I wondered if he noticed.
I rolled over onto my back, sighing at myself for acting like a lusty teenager. He was so fucking hot though. And he was smart. I hadn’t been with a smart guy in a long fucking time. So many musicians and people in my world only knew about music. They had no clue what was going on in the world around us. As I laid there staring at the ceiling, weighing the pros and cons of Ryan King, a small knocking sound startled me. It wasn’t from my hotel room door though; it was from a door off to the side of the room.
As I got up to check it, I realized that Ryan and I must have adjoining rooms, because that was definitely where the sound was coming from. I opened the door cautiously, wondering what would make him knock, even though my heart rate picked up just at the thought of him there. What I saw was Ryan, standing in the doorway, propped up with one delicious arm that my eyes roamed across before meeting his face.
“Hey,” he said, taking my breath away with a single word.
“Hey,” I whispered back, anticipation flooding my veins.
“I am having the overwhelming urge to say a proper goodnight to you,” .He smiled tentatively.
“A proper goodnight?” I didn’t know what he meant, and a small smile formed. “What’s a proper goodnight?”
“This.” He took a step toward me, pulling me into him with one massive arm, intensely planting his lips on mine. As the world around me became a tornado we were standing in the middle of, he pulled me closer into him, gently grabbing me behind my neck as he devoured my mouth, exploring it with his tongue. My body melted as my kiss returned his passion with equal fervor and my hands across his lower back under his t-shirt.
As he grabbed the back of my hair gently, tilting my neck back, my breath hitched with desire, and I could feel how wet I was becoming from just a kiss. He ran his teeth along my neck, licking lightly, which drove me wild, causing me to moan audibly.
“Fuck, Miranda,” he almost growled at me as he slowed down, letting up on his grip. I didn’t know what to do, or if he regretted what had just happened. I stayed silent, but didn’t let go.
He pulled away slightly, meeting my eyes with his again. The fire from before was replaced with what read as apprehension to me. Slightly out of breath, with his arms wrapped around me still, he pulled me back in, and just held me for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I placed my hands against his chest and pushed away from him. “Sorry for what?”
“I shouldn’t have done that. We’re professionals. It’s just…” I interrupted him, raising my index finger to his lips.
“Don’t.” I said, not wanting to know what his reasons or excuses were for it being a mistake. He regretted it, and that was all I needed to know to shut down, and go back to single, bitter Miranda. I pushed myself the rest of the distance I needed to separate us, avoiding eye contact. “It’s late, I have a big show tomorrow,” I mumbled.
“Miranda?” he said, as if it were a question, but I still didn’t look up at him.
“No, no. It’s super late, Ryan. Let’s go to bed.” I paused. “Separately.” I scrunched my eyebrows and pointed back and forth between the rooms. I finally looked up at his face, which was washed in confusion. Not wanting to give him the chance to say another word, I backed up enough to shut my door, and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow on the bus,” before closing it gently in his face.
The next morning, I felt like garbage. I’d slept like shit, thinking about how foolish I felt, and how annoyed I was. Infuriating me even further was the fact that I still wanted him. Once he kissed me, and I’d had a taste of him, I would never forget how intoxicating it was. I got out of bed earlier than usual, showered, and headed out to the bus so I could avoid him. I was also wondering where my sister was. While we didn’t share rooms anymore at hotels because I don’t typically party as hard as she does, I wanted to know she was safe, and she hadn’t returned my texts yet.
When I got down to the bus, Ryan was leaned up against it with Marty, sunglasses on, sipping on a cup of coffee. Of course he was up before me, and looking as sexy as ever. His blondish hair appeared to be still wet, and while he left that incredibly seductive stubble, he had shaved a bit, cleaning up his neck. Saliva pooled in my mouth as I took him in, trying to look confident and cool like I didn’t give a fuck, which obviously I did.
“Morning,” I said with a tight-lipped smile. After all, Marty didn’t do anything, and it was more my embarrassment than anything else that was the issue.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Marty replied.
“Morning, Miranda,” Ryan replied, taking a step toward me. “Do you have a minute to talk?” he asked, clearing his throat.
I felt my jaw tighten with agitation, and I responded curtly, “I really don’t right now. I’d like to find my sister, and get some breakfast. We don’t need to talk, not unless you need something for your notes?”
“Miranda, come on, talk to me,” he pleaded. Marty watched this unfold, and exited quickly to avoid the awkward conversation.
“Ryan. There’s nothing to talk about. We had a moment. It happened, which it shouldn’t have apparently, and now it’s over. So let’s just pretend it didn’t happen and move on. It’ll be a long summer otherwise.” I felt my chest tighten as the words came out of my mouth. The passion he kissed me with the night before would leave me wanting for who knows how long, and I sucked in air just thinking about it again.
“Miranda, that’s not it…” he continued to plead, when Carmen walked up, looking way better than I expected she would.
“Sister! Coffee! Food!” she shouted at me, distracting me from the distress of my conversation with Ryan, and also saving me from further embarrassment. I had no desire to get rejected twice in less than eight hours.
Opening my arms to hug her, I laughed. “I shall feed you, little one. What would you like?” She embraced me back, giggling.
“I would like pancakes. And bacon, obviously. And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee,” she replied, still holding onto me like a child. She could really be a pain in my ass, and she made me worry all the time, but she also made me laugh almost every day.
“You got it Your Majesty.” I released her from the hug and wove my arm through hers, turning back towa
rd the hotel. I figured we could just take an Uber or a taxi to a diner and eat, just sisters for a change. Turning back to Ryan, I said, “We’ll be back in a little bit.”
He simply nodded his head in response and walked away. Thank God.
“Why didn’t you invite the writer with us? Did something happen?” She started to tease, leaning into me.
“No, nothing happened. Geez. Is it a crime to want to have breakfast with my rock star sister by myself?” I covered, feeling bad about my dishonesty immediately.
Buying my lies completely, she replied happily, “More bacon for us,” as we found a ride to a nearby cafe.
“Exactly. More bacon for us,” I repeated, as we hopped in the taxi and took off. I wanted to enjoy the morning with my sister, but I couldn’t help retreating to the thoughts Ryan’s rejection left me with. I considered myself a professional, and I hadn’t been professional anytime we’d been alone, so I felt ashamed at my behavior. I kept telling myself it was his looks that distracted me, but that was only part of it. Either way, I felt like a fool, and I didn’t want Carmen to know. I put on a happy face, and went to eat with her, while my brain and my heart battled it out inside me.
You have got to be fucking kidding me. She was definitely misunderstanding something, and not letting me talk to her about it was making the situation much worse. Her leaving my watch, to some undisclosed location for fucking breakfast, was not acceptable, and I chased down Marty for an idea of where they might have gone.
Wringing my hands, I approached him, where he was having a smoke around the side of the hotel. “Hey man,” I said.
“Lose your girl?” he said with a smirk, taking a drag of his cigarette.
Admitting defeat was not my jam, but it was desperate times. “Uh, yeah. I didn’t get the invite to breakfast, so I need to find them.”
Chuckling a bit and dropping his cigarette to the ground, he looked up at me. “Those girls do this all the time. You can find them at the closest place that has coffee and bacon. No kidding. They’re not picky, it could be a dump, and that’s where they’ll be.”
“Thanks.” I started to step away.
“King,” Marty stopped me.
“Yeah?” I asked abruptly.
“Watch yourself with Miranda. She seems put together, but she’s volatile. I’m not a stupid man.” He gave me a stern, fatherly stare over his sunglasses.
“Yes sir,” I replied. Part of me wanted to stay and explain the situation to him, but I knew I needed to go spy on the girls, and make sure Miranda was safe, whether she was speaking to me or not.
A quick internet search and a five-minute cab ride led me to Dusty’s, a small diner close to the hotel. Fortunately for me, it had a huge window and the girls were easy to spot from the street. They were laughing and eating. Completely normal behavior. As I surveyed the other customers, it didn’t look like anyone besides me was staring at them, or watching them at all, which gave me some relief.
Reality set in again, and I knew that at some point, I was going to need to talk to Miranda about the kiss. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but she seemed angry with me, and I needed that resolved as quickly as possible. I sighed, rubbing the stubble on my face, thinking about what happened. The night before, once I was in my hotel room, my head was spinning. She’d been out of my sight for less than five minutes, and I missed her. Sheer impulse had taken over when I knocked on her door, and if I’m being totally honest, I didn’t regret one second of it. Losing my inhibitions with her was effortless; just the thought of my lips on hers sent a rush of heat through me.
Reminiscing about her touch sent signals to my brain, and my dick, and I had to adjust myself discreetly as I was coming to attention just at the thought. While I watched her have breakfast across the street, I debated going in and pretending that I’d run into them out on my own, looking for breakfast as well, but I thought Carmen would be suspicious. If I wasn’t more careful, she was going to figure me out soon, and that wasn’t a good thing for any of us. Carmen seemed like the type to cause a hell of a scene if the wind shifted in a way she didn’t care for. Although, for all I know, Miranda was telling her everything at that table. What I would have done for a listening device in that moment as anxiety set in, and I tried to focus.
Not long after, the girls appeared to be paying their tab. I ducked into the convenience store across the street and grabbed whatever fruit they had on the counter, so that when they found me, it wouldn’t appear as though I’d been following them specifically. I exited the store as they were leaving the diner, both smiling. The sun was shining quite brightly, and when it hit Miranda’s red hair, it was almost blinding, but also made it pretty easy to keep tabs on her. My plan was to cross the street in their path, so they’d have no choice but to be stuck with me for the remainder of the morning. I figured ingratiating myself to Carmen that morning would be a good strategy for eliminating the awkward exchange that was likely to occur between Miranda and I until I could get her alone.
Stealthily, I walked out of the convenience store, making my way toward them.
“Hey! Writer!” Mission accomplished. Carmen spotted me.
“Oh, hey ladies!” I exclaimed, feigning my surprise. “How was breakfast?”
“I have an unnatural love for bacon, and they had bacon aplenty, so it was wonderful,” Carmen replied, while Miranda stood silently, her arms crossed and an indifferent expression on her face.
Laughing, I replied, “Nice. Are you guys headed back to the hotel now?”
“We are, indeed,” Carmen replied.
“Mind if I share a cab with you?” There was no way they’d say no; they had no reason to.
“Of course,” Carmen answered. Miranda continued to stay silent, hiding her eyes behind her sunglasses.
It was worse than I thought. Miranda had time to get even more upset with me, or whatever was going through that beautiful head of hers. She didn’t engage me at all, staring out the window the entire ride back to the hotel while I chatted mindlessly with Carmen, who was extremely friendly, Completely unlike our past encounters. I was certainly grateful for her presence in that moment; it seemed Miranda hadn’t said anything about the night before, which both relieved and disappointed me.
Carmen instructed the taxi driver to drop us off by the buses that were still parked out back, but were now running and seemingly ready to go to the venue. I tried to pay, but Miranda grabbed my arm as I reached for my wallet; the first she’d acknowledged me since I tried to talk to her that morning.
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“But--” She cut me off.
“We got it. It’s business. Don’t worry about it,” she said cordially.
“Okay. Thank you,” I replied.
She gave me a nod and another tight-lipped smile getting out of the taxi, letting Carmen pay the driver. I followed, trying not to piss her off, and hoping she would get back to being herself soon. Marty was waiting outside of the bus having another smoke and gave me a nod.
“We just about ready to get over to the venue?” he asked the girls.
“Yes please,” Miranda replied quietly, smiling at him before getting on the bus.
I followed her onto the bus, and Carmen was right behind me, so I couldn’t make another attempt to talk.
“Alright friends, we’re about twenty minutes from the venue,” Marty said loudly as he hopped into his driver’s seat.
“Thanks daddy-o,” Carmen replied. She really was a ray of fucking sunshine that morning. It was catching me off guard.
Miranda rummaged through one of her bags on the bus, pulling out some large red headphones and putting them on without speaking to anyone. After flopping into the recliner chair and folding her legs under her, she scrolled through her phone, looking for something. Once she’d found whatever it was, she leaned her head back and appeared to gaze out the bus window, listening.
I sat toward the back near Carmen, who was using her drumsticks on her thighs,
almost burning off energy. As I glanced over at her, she nodded in Miranda’s direction and said, “She’s in a mood today. It’ll pass. It always does.”
“Is something wrong?” I asked hesitantly.
“Meh, who knows? She didn’t want to talk about it. I was gonna ask you, but looks like you have no clue either,” .She raised her eyebrows in question.
“No, sure don’t,” I replied, feeling like a fucking douche for lying. “You don’t seem too concerned though.”
“Nah. Sometimes when we’re on the road, she likes to listen to music on her big obnoxious headphones. It’s whatever. We kind of all have our thing, I guess.”
“So, what’s your thing?” I asked her, wanting to get to know her a bit better.
“Well, I’m certain you’ve learned already that I like to party,” she replied.
“Yea, but is that really your thing? Like your pre-show ritual or whatever?” I asked.
“Hmm.” She looked off, thinking about it. It was the first time she’d stopped fidgeting with her drumsticks that I could recall. Looking down at them, she smiled. “Well, I play with my sticks. All the time. I tap them on everything, including myself, just working out beats in my head.”
“Is that all you’re doing?” I felt like there was more to it than that.
“Ok writer, here’s some truth for you,” .She rested her forearms on her knees and looked intently at me, getting my full attention. “My brain is always running a mile a minute. Like, I have a million thoughts going through my head at any given time and I have a hard time organizing them sometimes; it’s hard to focus. But, when I tap my sticks on things, in a rhythm that makes sense to me, it helps those thoughts find their own space in my head. It organizes my thoughts because of the consistency of the beat.” She pursed her lips, anticipating my reply.
