by Amy Briggs
“I don’t think we need anything, but thanks, Marty!” I smiled at him, before waving and jogging to catch up with Ryan and Carmen.
Johnny had opted to fly, he wanted to go home and see his kids and wife, then he would be flying to San Diego from Nashville. I couldn’t blame him; if I had family back home, kids and that sort of thing, I’d go home in between towns whenever I could too. Mike said he was going to see his friend in town and would meet up with us later. I swear, Mike had “a friend” in every town we went to. I was pretty sure these friends were ladies he’d been hooking up with, because he never brought anyone out with us at night when we’d gather. Hey, to each his own. Carmen always seemed to find herself someone to spend evenings with when she wanted to as well, without any unnecessary attachments.
After we checked in, I realized I’d forgotten I wanted my guitar. I had some ideas for a new song I wanted to play around with later.
“I’m gonna go back and grab my guitar,” I said to Ryan when we got upstairs to my room.
Cocking his head at me, he replied, “How about I go get it?”
“I’m perfectly capable of grabbing my guitar and coming back,” I retorted.
“Not to be a downer, but the last time I let you run off on your own for five minutes, we had what we’ll call a situation in New Orleans, so forgive me if I’d rather you didn’t?” he implored softly, flashing me his charming smile. “Besides, Carmen is gonna meet us here in your room, so I’ll run down and grab it, and then we’ll go, okay? Just wait here.”
Sighing, and dramatically rolling my eyes, I said, “Fine,” with as much overwhelming sarcasm as I could muster.
“Thank you for humoring me, baby.” He took my face in his hands, planting a kiss on my lips before running off quickly.
Moments later, Carmen used her drumsticks to knock on my door. “You decent in there?” she yelled.
“Of course I am,” I laughed, swinging the door open. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You never know,” she grinned. Looking around, she asked, “Where’s Ryan? I’m hungry.”
“He ran down to get my guitar for me,” I replied.
“Let’s go get him, I don’t want to wait. You can get your guitar when we get back. I do want to enjoy some sunshine and some fish tacos. Is it Tuesday?” she asked.
“I have no clue what day it is, actually, but I don’t need it to be Tuesday for tacos. Especially San Diego fish tacos,” I laughed.
We left my room, hoping to catch Ryan before he’d actually grabbed the guitar so we could just get a move on. My stomach growled, thinking of how delicious the seafood in San Diego was. You can get almost anything anywhere, but having something local was always our goal, and this was no exception. Especially after two days on a bus.
We didn’t run into him on our way, so I hopped on the bus, with Carmen right behind me. What we saw changed everything I thought was good and real in my relationship with him.
Standing in the middle of the bus, I found Ryan pointing a gun directly at a young man holding what looked like a towel, standing just outside of our bathroom, and the towel appeared to have red stains all over it.
“What the fuck is going on here!” I screamed.
“Miranda! Get back!” I yelled at her, showing her a side of me she’d definitely not seen before.
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck is happening here?” Carmen yelled.
“Who are you? What are you doing on this bus?” I ignored their questions, yelling at the small-statured man, who looked beyond frightened. “Answer me!” I demanded.
As I scanned my eyes back and forth between Miranda and Carmen, and the intruder on the bus, I realized the cat was most definitely out of the bag. This was not how I’d hoped to explain myself to her. What a fucking disaster. But I’d caught this guy in the girl’s bathroom, where I’d found a note written in Miranda’s red lipstick on the mirror.
“Ryan! What the fuck are you doing?” Miranda yelled.
“Miranda! Not now!” I growled back at her.
“Bro!” the man yelled, his hands in the air, clutching a towel. “I don’t know what you think is going on here, but you don’t need a fucking gun, bro!” He seemed scared, and that’s what I wanted him to be. I’d fucking caught him.
“Wait a minute!” Carmen yelled. “That’s the cleaning guy!”
“What?” I snapped my head around to her.
“He’s the cleaning guy! We’re having the bus cleaned here. Put the fucking gun away, dude,” Carmen replied, more calmly.
“Is that true?” I shouted at the dude, who looked like he was about to piss himself.
“Yea bro, I’m just a cleaning guy. I saw that someone had written a note in lipstick on the mirror, so I was cleaning it off. Don’t fucking shoot me, man,” he quivered.
I lowered my gun, realizing the mistake I’d made. When I got on the bus, all I saw was an unannounced stranger in the girls’ space, and I jumped into action. “Fuck,” I muttered.
“What the fuck,” Miranda exclaimed, running off the bus.
“Shit!” I uttered, holstering my gun to go after her.
“Slow down, cowboy.” Carmen stopped me. “I’ll go after her. Find out what that note said, and then come find us.” She grabbed my arm, waiting for me to respond. Begrudgingly, I nodded in agreement, and she ran off the bus after Miranda.
Turning back to the kid, who was apparently sent to clean the tour bus, I reached my hand out. “I’m so sorry, bro, I didn’t know you were coming. They didn’t tell me. I’m their security.”
He put his hands down, reaching out to shake my hand. “Dude, that was fucking crazy, man.” He talked like a surfer, had the tan and blonde hair of a guy who spent his free time on the water, and the dialect of a guy who probably smoked a lot of weed in his spare time.
“We’ve had some… issues. I apologize for the confusion,” I said.
“It’s cool, bro. This will make a hell of a story tomorrow morning on the waves,” he said, confirming my suspicions. “Someone did write something on the mirror before I got here, though. I figured you knew, so I was cleaning it off. Do you want to see what’s left?”
“Yea, please,” I said, stepping past him to the bathroom. Unfortunately, all that was left was some smearing from the cleaning, and a bit of the bottom left read, you’ll be sorry. “What did the rest of it say?” I shook my head in frustration.
“It said. I warned you. You belong with me. You’ll be sorry. Pretty creepy shit man,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Yeah, it is.” I pondered how, in that short period of time, someone could get on the bus and do that. They had to have known the cleaner was coming, and snuck on the bus right after we left. “Listen, I’m gonna leave you to it, but can you make sure you get that completely off? I don’t want her to see it. She’s upset enough,” I said.
“Sure thing, bro,” he replied, picking up his cleaning supplies and spraying the mirror.
“Thanks. And I’m sorry again. Please make sure that you lock up behind you, and do not let anyone on the bus except Marty, myself, or one of the girls. Something fucked up is going on here.”
“No problem, man. Marty and I know each other. He should be back in a little bit to lock up behind me,” he replied.
“Thanks again,” I said, leaving the kid to do his job. I needed to find the girls fucking fast, before things got any worse. What I read on Miranda’s face was betrayal. She knew I’d lied to her, and I needed to get to her so I could explain myself before it got worse, if that was even possible.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Looking at it, I saw a text from Carmen with an address and words that filled me with both dread, and hope. She’s fucking pissed, and hurt. Come here. We’ll fix it.
Thank God I’d managed to build an understanding with Carmen, or I’d be up a fucking creek. I slipped into the backseat of a cab in front of the hotel, and made the quick trip to the oceanside restaurant in about five minutes, although it felt like time
stood still. As I approached the small patio bar, I caught a glimpse of Miranda’s red hair in the sunlight. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself to lay it all out on the table for her. My explanation. My story. But more than anything, my heart.
I slowly came upon the girls, noticing they both had a margarita in front of them, when Miranda caught sight of me first, and she stiffened. Carmen, whose back had been to me, turned around and waved me to come over as Miranda slapped her hand.
“Ryan, come sit,” Carmen said, patting the bench next to her, across from Miranda.
“I’m not interested in talking right now,” Miranda said angrily.
“Please let me explain, Miranda,” I said softly, not wanting to poke the bear.
“Let him talk, Miranda. You don’t get to call all the fucking shots all the fucking time. He’s been here to keep you safe, and he deserves the opportunity to explain himself. You owe him that much,” Carmen demanded, before standing up.
As Miranda crossed her arms defensively, she muttered, “Fine” under her breath, refusing to make eye contact with me.
“I’m going to leave you two alone. I’ll be back at the hotel.” She patted me on the back. “Good luck, man,” she muttered before walking away, leaving me alone with Miranda.
“Miranda, please look at me,” I softly begged, stretching my arms across the table toward her.
She lifted her sunglasses up to the top of her head, glaring at me and maintaining her defensive posture. “What could you possibly say that would make lying to me okay?” she hissed.
“You have to understand that it was never my intent to deceive you,” I tried to explain.
“How the fuck is that even true, when the entire premise of your existence on this tour is under false pretense? Was fucking me every night part of the deal? You plan that with my dad? You guys decide the best way to keep me fucking safe was to get in my pants so I’d spend every spare minute with you?”
Oh fuck, she was even angrier than I could’ve imagined. And the implication that our relationship wasn’t real felt like a knife in my belly, burning a hole right through me.
“Please don’t think that, Miranda. What happened… what’s happening… between you and I is real. It was always real. We just met under false pretenses,” I said, feeling as though I’d be sick just from the look of disgust she was giving me.
“What am I supposed to think, Ryan? I’m fucking humiliated. Did everyone know who you really are except me?” A tear started to form, and as it fell from her eye, I jumped up and raced to her side.
“Nobody knew. Carmen just found out in New Orleans. I swear to you, please believe me.” I wiped the tear from her cheek with my thumb gently. “Everything I’ve done since the moment I met you was to keep you safe, or to selfishly spend more time with you.” I almost whispered the last part, not removing my hand from her face.
As she began to soften her body slightly, she sighed and met my desperate stare with her beautiful tear filled eyes. “I… I just don’t know what to believe, Ryan. I feel completely betrayed right now,” she explained softly.
“It was never my intent to betray you, and when I told your dad I didn’t want to be undercover anymore, he told me to find the right time to tell you myself. I couldn’t even begin to imagine that you’d find out like you did today.”
“So what? You’re some kind of bad ass that my dad hired?” she asked. Before I could answer, she groaned. “Oh my God, does my dad know we’ve been sleeping together? Jesus Christ.” She put her face in her hands, shaking her head, forcing me to take my hand away before I grabbed both of hers, pulling them from her face.
“Look at me, Miranda,” I demanded. As she met my eyes again, I took in another huge breath. “Your dad knows that I’m in love with you.” I watched as her mouth fell open in surprise, her full lips quivering. I awaited her response while my heart began to beat out of my chest.
I couldn’t believe the words I’d just heard him say. I wasn’t sure how to respond. I knew I’d fallen for him weeks ago, but never gave a second thought to anything between us lasting beyond the tour; it seemed unrealistic.
“Say something,” he whispered, still holding my hands in his.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, wanting to confess my love for him back, but still reeling from the deceit our relationship had been based on.
As his head fell, I could see he was disappointed, and I strained to get out what I wanted him to know, now that we were laying everything out there.
“I wanted to tell you everything sooner. I knew that going undercover was a bad idea, and I couldn’t say no,” he said.
“My dad must be paying you pretty well,” I replied sarcastically.
“It’s not about the money. It was never about the money. I told you, the moment I saw you, the moment we met, I was hooked. That was true. I knew that this would end terribly, but I’m selfish, and I couldn’t resist being with you, Miranda. I’ve never been pulled to anyone the way I am to you, and I’d do anything to make you understand that,” he almost pleaded with me. “I’ve arranged for someone else to finish out the tour with you when we get to San Francisco. I understand if you don’t feel the same way that I do, but I’m still going to keep you safe until my guy takes my place.” He hung his head again, slumping his shoulders as he straddled the bench next to me.
As angry and hurt as I was, I didn’t want him to leave the tour. “I love you too,” I leaned toward him and whispered quickly, before leaning back.
“What?” His head rose as his face regained some of the color it had lost.
Taking in a deep breath, I repeatedly more loudly, “I said… I love you too.” It felt like ripping a Band-Aid off. It was freeing to say it out loud, confessing my deep dark secret to him. We’d shared our bodies, but we’d also shared plenty of moments over the last several weeks, enjoying each other’s company genuinely, outside of the lies.
Grabbing my face in his hands, he pulled me in for a kiss. I sank into him, feeling his relief as he swept his tongue over mine, the butterflies of my emotions fluttering through me. Instinctively, I brought my hands to his chest, softly caressing his hardened muscles through his tight t-shirt.
Pulling away, he placed his hands over mine, moving them to his heart. “I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. I know that this is a shock, but you have to know that my feelings for you, and my desire to keep you safe no matter what, are true.”
As I felt his heart race under my fingers, a smile formed on my lips. “I understand,” I whispered.
“Baby, I love you,” he said, flashing his charming grin at me. “It feels so fucking good to say that.”
I couldn’t help but giggle, pulling my hands back and dropping my face into them. “I can’t even believe this is real life,” I said, still giggling and peeking back at him.
“Oh, it’s real life, baby,” he chuckled. “And now that the cat’s out of the bag, I can kiss you anytime I want. That’s how this works.”
“Oh, is it now?” I laughed, leaning toward him.
“It is indeed,” he replied, pulling me into him for another kiss. Nothing had changed the way he made me feel with his touch. While it would take some getting used to, him not being a writer, and us being out in the open, he still gave me the chills when he took me in his arms, and I was happy I didn’t have to give that up.
“So, what now?” I took a sip of my margarita.
“What do you mean?” he asked, gesturing to the waitress, indicating he needed a drink.
“Well, we’re in love apparently, so there’s that...” I said, blushing.
“Yes, we are. Basically, that means you’re mine, and nobody else can have you ever again,” he smirked.
“Oh, okay. I’m glad we got that cleared up.” I laughed and rolled my eyes at him.
“Well, that’s pretty important. Other than that, it means you’re okay with having security now, and I’m going to keep doing my job without having to hide it
from you,” he said, almost sternly.
“You know I don’t want security,” I replied, even though I knew I needed it at that point.
“Yea, you’ve made that pretty clear to everyone. And no one, myself included, agrees with you. So, you’re going to have security, and I’m going to add another guy when we get to San Francisco. One of my guys, Caleb, is going to finish out the tour with us,” he said.
“So, I find out today that you’re actually my bodyguard, and now you’re telling me we need two of you?” I asked sarcastically.
“Yea, that pretty much sums it up,” he grinned.
“Ugh, I don’t like that. It makes me feel like an elitist,” I replied. Having all this security staff all of a sudden made me feel like I was treating myself like I was too good to just be normal.
“It’s not. It’s a matter of your safety. I may have been wrong about the guy on the bus, but someone was on that bus, and left you a note, in your lipstick on your mirror. This guy is getting closer and more ballsy, and while I think he’ll slip up eventually, we are not taking chances anymore. I love you, and I’m going to protect you, Miranda,” he said in an exasperated tone.
“Okay.” I nodded. I knew he was right; I just hated that I was wrong for so long.
“Okay? You’re not going to fight me on this anymore?” he asked, shock written all over his face.
“Nope. I’m going to let you protect me.” I smiled a sly, tight-lipped smile at him.
“Sweet Jesus, hallelujah. Can I get you to say that again on tape or something so I can show it to your dad and Carmen?” He laughed at me.
“You can shut the fuck up because I wouldn’t get too cocky about being right. It won’t happen that often, so enjoy it,” I teased him.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He winked at me before leaning in for a sweet little smooch.
As shocked as I was by the events of the day, there was also a sense of relief that washed over me. It felt like a clean slate had been offered up, and at the end of the day, your heart will tell you what’s cool and what’s not. And my heart wanted to be with him, and finally accept that I wasn’t always right - even if I wasn’t going to admit that part very often.
