“Does he know about this?” Jules asks.
“No. I never said a word. I didn’t want to hurt the band.” I snort. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I protected him from a blowup, when he deserved everything that he would have gotten.”
“Not really,” Jules says. “Your job was to protect them. I can see how that would put you in a tough spot.”
“And I resented that too. I took it out on Rye, even though he had no clue why I was so pissed.”
She peers at me, and I have the urge to squirm. When she talks, her tone holds no judgment, only curiosity. “Despite all that, when he made you this offer, you took it.”
“Sometimes, I can’t believe it myself.” I laugh without humor. My chest hurts, and my head feels as if it’s stuffed with wool. “I’d like to think we’ve both grown. And the truth is…Shit. I like this Rye.”
Saying it makes it real. Saying it also lifts a weight I didn’t know I’d been carrying.
Jules nods as if understanding. “And you’re running scared.”
“Scared,” I scoff. “I’m not scared.” I am, though. I’m terrified of falling.
“Of course not.” Jules pats my arm. “That’s why we’re talking about sex in front of St. Nick instead of you being in New York getting some dick.”
“Ugh!” I turn away and start walking through the museum. But I can’t outrun my memories.
Ride me, Bren.
He’d been so thick. So hard. So good.
“Shit.” With a silent groan, I toss up my hands in defeat. I can lie to myself all day, but it won’t change the truth. My body doesn’t feel right anymore. Like it’s waiting for him. “I ran, all right! I know I ran. But I couldn’t face him. I just couldn’t, okay?”
Not after he’d taken me apart in the best of ways. He’d taken me apart and then put me back together. I’m this new needy woman who can’t stop craving one more touch. I don’t know if I like it. But I want it.
Jules is silent for a moment, letting me stride along, my heels clicking double time on the linoleum floor. “Brenna, you are my idol, the woman who told the head of RAI Records that the day he started staring at guys’ dicks when he talked to them was the day it would be okay for him to talk to your tits.”
I snort at the memory.
Jules smiles fondly. “Do you know how many times I’ve seen you set down random drunk and disorderly dudes at events without breaking a sweat? Or make power-hungry executives quake in their loafers? You’re never fazed. You’re a badass in five-inch heels. No one takes advantage of you.” Her gaze is serious now. “If I could harness half your confidence, I’d be a happy woman. So, I have to wonder why you’re running from the one guy who lights you up.”
My steps slow to a halt. Lights me up? As much as I want to, I can’t deny that I feel something when I’m around him. Alive. Energized.
“I don’t know.”
But I do. I’m a sham. I am not cool and collected. Half the time, I’m terrified to take any risks. I’m afraid anything I truly want will get ripped away and I’ll be that insecure girl on the outside looking in once more.
When it comes to Rye, he has the power to pull the rug out from under me. When I got physical with him, I only gave him more of that power. That knowledge lies on my skin, making it feel too tight. And yet I cannot lie to myself: I crave more of him.
Jules watches me carefully. Whatever she sees in my face has her tone softening. “I know one thing. You don’t let a man like Rye see you sweat. He’ll never let that go. Get back to New York and face him head-on.”
Chapter Fourteen
Rye
Berrylicious: Michael says you haven’t answered any texts regarding next week’s appearance schedule. What gives?
TrueAceOfBass: Sorry
Berrylicious: Sorry? That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me?
TrueAceOfBass: This a 16 Candles skit?
Berrylicious: If you fucking forget my birthday, we’re going to have words, Peterson.
TrueAceOfBass: 8/16 will nvr 4gt
Berrylicious: Even your texting is bad. Are you drunk?
TrueAceOfBass: No
Berrylicious: High?
TrueAceOfBass: Wish
Berrylicious: Are you avoiding me? Because I went to Atlanta? Is that it?
TrueAceOfBass: No ???
Berrylicious: Damn it, Rye. Will you please be serious?
TrueAceOfBass: K
The phone rings, and I know I’ve stretched Brenna’s patience too far. With a sigh, I prop the phone on the arm of the couch and hit Accept.
“Seriously, what the hell is going on?” she starts in without pause.
I have to smile a little. She’s cute when she’s pissed. Not that I’d tell her. She’d kill me if I said so… “You’re cute when you’re pissed.” Shit. Painkillers are not my friend.
A growl rumbles over the phone. “Am I on speaker?”