‘It’s fine.’ It’s worryingly more than fine. Forgetting I’m supposed to be mad at him, I like that he finds his creativity here, in our home. The place where we made so many memories.
He hands me his guitar. It looks suspiciously like the same guitar he had ten years ago. ‘Here, you try.’
‘No.’ I push it back forcefully. I couldn’t, even if my limbs weren’t trembling like a fawn trying to stand for the first time. ‘I don’t play anymore. I haven’t since…’
His eyebrows stretch skyward. ‘Not at all?’
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘The girl who played the guitar and wrote silly love songs died with her parents.’
‘If I could have one wish, it would be that you’d play with me.’
‘I’m sure you could think of a better wish than that.’ My lip catches between my teeth but it’s too late to bite back the flirtation that slipped out. ‘Besides, I’ve played with you enough to last a lifetime.’
‘Nowhere near.’ An earnest vulnerability exudes from his expression and the anger that simmers below the surface of my skin thaws further. ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something… I have something for you. I thought you’d come looking… but you never did.’ His voice cracks and he inches towards me, setting the instrument down on the coffee table in front of us.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. My eyes return to his mouth. Those full perfect lips that have the power to set every nerve in my body alight with the lightest of brushes. The tongue that’s stroked the most sensitive parts of me. Being with him, near him, it’s hard to remain resentful when I can clearly see the boy he once was still lingering inside.
Maybe I’m not the only one with wounds. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him why he left. What happened. But my pride refuses to permit it.
He slides closer, closing the distance between us, until his lips are mere millimetres from mine. The rockstar melts before me. All I see when I gaze into those swirling chocolate pools, is the boy I loved.
The boy I would have done anything for.
The boy who left me.
Abruptly, the scalding blood pulsing through me runs cold.
Darting back, I leap from the couch as if I’ve been stung, because I have – ten years ago, and I can’t let it happen again. I can understand Ryan coming back to find some of his original creativity again, but I’m not stupid enough to be used as a part of that. When he’s written his album, he’ll swan off into the sunset again and I’ll be left just as heartbroken as I was the first time.
‘Work away.’ I gesture to his guitar. ‘I’ll be in my office.’
I bolt out the door, needing to put some distance between us. Between me and the sound of his perfect voice, the unique scent of his musky skin, and the very come-to-bed eyes that ruined me.
CHAPTERTEN
RYAN
27thNovember
I’ve been here less than a week and managed to produce more material than I have in the last four years. Once I work out the time difference, I pick up the phone to call my brother. Tired Jayden is even more grumpy than hungry Jayden.
He answers on the first ring. ‘Yo. I was literally just thinking about you.’
LA traffic rushes in the background. Sirens, horns and white noise from a world away. It sounds like he’s outside, but the noise passes too fast for him to be walking. An engine roars. He must have got a new convertible.
Unless the cheeky bollocks has ‘borrowed my Ferrari’.
What a douche.
‘Driving a person’s car does tend to remind you of them, especially when you do it without their permission.’
The snigger that follows confirms my suspicions. ‘It was sitting in your garage, all lonely. I thought I’d blow the cobwebs off it for you.’
I shake my head, but can’t help but grin. ‘Just don’t ding it.’
‘Huh, so much for drive safely, brother.’ He pretends to be offended.
‘Don’t push it, Jayden.’
