More Than Words: Kissed By A Muse #3 (2 page)

Leigh thumped him on the head with her book, but she did laugh and the sound eased him. He let his weight sink into the narrow, soft bed and opened his book, relieved to see that he had managed to make it past the halfway mark at least. If he concentrated, he could finish the book within an hour and a half. ‘Just out of curiosity… how quickly could you finish this?’

Leigh paused, and he felt her lean over his shoulder. ‘Hmmm… half an hour?’

Ryan pursed his lips in an impressed smile. ‘Is it weird that that turns me on?’

‘Can you read music?’

He nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘Then we’re even.’

Ryan grinned and lay on his back so that she could see it. ‘You can’t?’

‘It’s like trying to read hieroglyphics… without the helpful pictures.’

He reached up and tweaked the end of her nose. ‘I bet you could learn.’

‘I’m sure I could…’ Leigh mused, lifting her book between their faces. ‘But then I’d officially be able to do everything and no one would be worthy of me…’

Ryan laughed heartily, turning to face her. He tapped on the book. ‘So that’s the problem huh? The lady is too accomplished to find a worthy mate?’

Leigh lowered the book and smiled at him. ‘No. The lady just can’t stand it when people talk when she’s trying to read, so she ends up kicking them all out of her space if they interrupt too many times…’ she lifted the book again. ‘Same goes for talking during movies, FYI.’

Ryan rolled back over. ‘Hint taken.’

‘Lady relieved.’

Ryan lifted his book again, but only managed to skim a few more lines before he sighed and leaned back against her. ‘Aren’t you even going to ask me why I threw a tantrum?’

There was silence for a moment, but then he heard Leigh clear her throat. ‘No. The elephant in the room is keeping us warm, so let’s just let it be, hmm?’

Ryan frowned. ‘You’re okay with that?’

‘If it keeps you squished into my bed, yes.’ Papers rustled against his hair and then, he felt her sweet lips on the back of his head. ‘Read, Ryan, and don’t worry about the ending- if it’s you, you’re already living the sequel, okay? You don’t have to fear dying.’

Ryan swallowed hard and lifted the book to his eyes, more scared than he could recall ever feeling before. It was dying that he was afraid of, but living without the way he was feeling beside Leigh.

Leigh

Leigh didn’t know exactly when she’d fallen asleep, but when Ryan’s whispers roused her, the room was filling with a pale, eerie light through the crack in the curtains and The Hardest Fall was being held open by his forearm on the author’s bio page. She sat up, smiling, and pulled the book from beneath his arm.

Good boy! You did it!

He was beautiful, even in sleep, but his dark brows were knitted together, and his thick black eyelashes were shivering as he attempted to open them, but failed. Leigh brushed the back of her hand along his sharp cheekbone, shaking her head in appreciation.

I don’t know where you come from, mister, but you’ve clearly got a bit of Greek or Italian or something in the family tree, and what a lucky, lucky tree it is!

Leigh’s body felt heavy and comfortable, all snuggled up to his like that, but as her mind began to switch on, she realised that she was sore too- the delicate flesh between her legs felt raw, as did her nipples, and her lips felt puffy and bruised. Her eyes were scratchy from lack of sleep and her mouth tasted a bit sour for having slept without brushing her teeth after her hot chocolate- but she welcomed every ache and sign of discomfort, because Ryan had brought each to pass.

He came in here last night because he didn’t want to be away from me, any more than I wanted to be away from him! That means something, doesn’t it? Maybe we can’t talk about what it means yet, but… soon… who knows?

‘No…’ Ryan suddenly moaned, and Leigh flinched, imagining offense as though he’d just answered her silent question. ‘No baby please…’

Leigh’s heart skipped a beat. Baby? He NEVER said ‘Baby’ he always called her ‘Honey’ much to her amusement, and she’d assumed that he’d always addressed his ‘pets’ that way.

‘Oh… no don’t cry, baby… don’t cry…’ Ryan rocked, pressing his face into the comforter. ‘I’ll still be here! I’ll never really leave you!’

Leigh’s scalp tingled unpleasantly- Ryan’s voice was so loud that she was shocked that he wasn’t waking himself up! Did he dream like this all the time? He’d had issues the night before, but not to this degree.

‘Oh… that voice! She’s an angel! Oh that voice, that VOICE!’ Ryan pushed off the bed with a red face. ‘No don’t!’ he cried, his eyes springing open. ‘I love you!’

‘Ryan, whoa!’ Leigh caught his shoulders just before he could jerk too hard and topple off the bed. ‘Ryan it’s a dream- you have to calm down!’

But he collapsed, clawing at the sheets as he sobbed into the mattress. ‘She can’t hear me!’ his voice was muffled and raw. ‘She can’t hear me anymore!’ His lean body began to shudder as he sobbed and Leigh reeled back, horrified. What on earth had happened in his dream to cause him so much pain? She reached out to touch him again, to offer comfort- but he went limp and sighed.

‘I’ll find you again…’ he whispered. ‘I’ll find you, and we’ll be together…’

Leigh’s heart broke. She didn’t have to know what he was dreaming about, to know it wasn’t her- to know that there wasn’t enough room in Ryan’s life for him, the elephant and her.

Two

R
yan woke up to the feeling of the morning sun on his face with only the slightest hint of warmth and opened his eyes as he rolled, eager to turn and kiss Leigh good morning, but the mattress was empty and cold beside him and his heart dropped accordingly. Where had she gone?

He got up and saw his book sitting on the nightstand and groaned, catching his face in his hands and rubbing at his temples as he recalled how tired he’d been by the time he’d finished it in the early hours of the morning- and how emotionally bankrupted he’d been by the ending. He’d been desperate to wake up Leigh then and demand comfort, spooked by the reliving of his own demise and then irritated by the way Kylie had taken the heart transplant and had then shacked up with the best mate… but Leigh had been too soundly asleep and so he’d cried himself to sleep instead while glaring at the picture of the author. What was he going to say to her? Did he want her to be able to do all of the talking? Did he want her to be there at all?

The answer to that final question was no, and as he got out of bed and padded down the hall, he rubbed his hands up and down the chilled flesh of his arms and forced himself to accept the hard truth- he’d delayed reading the book because deep down, he wasn’t ready to face his past. Perhaps he had been, two days before, but he had Leigh now and he wanted to be her Ryan- whoever that was- and he wanted his past to stop interfering with all that was so wonderful in his present. He didn’t want to discover the identity of his brown-eyed girl, he wanted to forget her! He wanted to dream about Leigh! Kylie in the book was lovely but she didn’t hold a candle to Leigh!

But whom did Leigh dream about? Was he Ryan to her- or a knock-off of a character that got her all hot and bothered? Had she been pretending with him the night before- imagining someone else? And if so, had she been imagining Ryan from the book, the guy who had broken her heart or- in the worst case scenario- someone like Justin, Ryan’s rival?

The thoughts were making him feel all anxious and irritable and itchy, and when Ryan made it to the kitchen and saw the hand-written note on the bench beneath a cactus, his apprehension for what the day held only darkened further.

Morning,

I woke up and realised that I am so far behind in my blog that it isn’t even funny, and starving for some reason, so I’ve gone to blog over a nice, fatty breakfast.

I see you finished the book, and I hope you’re okay. I’ll be out this morning, sightseeing, and I’ll meet you at your post at noon. Let’s hope she’s there, huh? The suspense is killing me.

-Leigh.

Ryan glowered at the note after turning it over then back and then reading it three more times, searching for hidden meanings or innuendos, and coming up empty. Where were the hugs and kisses that girls were supposed to leave on notes? He’d had his tongue inside her for over an hour! Where was the love?

And how could she have just left like that? She’d been the first thought to cross his mind as soon as his eyes had opened… and now that he realised that she was gone and that he wouldn’t see her for another five hours, he felt desolate and she was off having fun and hadn’t stopped to ask if he’d wanted to join her.

‘What the fuck?’ Ryan let the note drop to the bench and then stomped over to the kettle to make a coffee he didn’t feel like and wouldn’t taste, feeling so lonely that he was actually tempted to throw a cactus just to hear something other than him make a sound within the empty house.

Was my naked body just a pit stop on her tour? Hell no! If she thinks I’m going to let out of this connection without a fight, she’s in for a rude awakening!

Ryan grinned his best evil grin as he pulled the milk from the fridge. He’d make Leigh’s knees buckle again, he was sure of it. But clearly, he was going to have to be a little less easy to get, a little more rock star. Chicks went for that, after all- if he’d learned anything from The Hardest Fall, it was that!

Leigh

The day sucked without Ryan, but bacon tasted the same and Leigh stuffed herself with it and her Canadian pancakes as she typed with one finger from her spare hand. She was ravenous and way behind on her work, so she caught up with both her blog and her appetite and tried to tell herself that she was still living the dream vacation, and that Niagara was just a lovely without Ryan at her side.

It was bullshit, of course, but she didn’t allow that truth to hit home and when it seemed like it would, she took another long slurp from her latte, another bite from her fluffy pancakes, and fed her feelings until she was too full to pout.

Her blog was pretty distracting. People had gone nuts over her photos and had asked a lot of questions and so she answered as best as she could and told them that she’d check edition numbers and whatnot when she got back to the Inn. Her blog entry from the day before- the one about holding out for hope- had gotten more hits than any of her posts since her initial review of The Hardest Fall, and it took Leigh twenty minutes just to scroll through the comments below it alone.

‘So how hot is this ‘almost’ Ryan you met? Get a passport Hot?’

Gouge your eyes from your head, hot.

‘Who’s the date guy?! How did it go? Are you seeing him again?’

Nope. Oh wait… I said I would. Sigh… better call Bruce today and do the apology thing...

‘Are the man of a better standard over there than here?’

They’re both hotter and crazier...

‘Thank you for posting this- I almost lost hope once you know but then I met this guy and we’ve been blissfully married for fifteen years. It can happen to anybody, and I KNOW it’s gonna happen for you!’

Ha! That’s asking for a miracle, and I haven’t earned a miracle...

‘Okay I am officially addicted to this blog! Are you an Indie writer or agented? Where can I read your stuff?’

That last question made Leigh mis-time a mouthful of pancake and as a result, ended up with maple syrup down her chin. As she wiped at herself with a wet wipe, she contemplated the comment and the incredibly cute guy who had posted it (sadly, with his arm around another incredibly cute guy) before replying: ‘all of my stuff is here, unless you include some truly miserable fan-fiction, which I don’t. But thanks for the grin!’ Then she scrolled down again and had to clap a hand over her mouth when she saw her mother’s comment below, illustrated with a bunch of little arrows pointing up.

‘He’s a good-looking boy Leigh, you should write him something.’

‘Oh my god!’ Leigh typed that, laughing until tears spilled down her face and then added: ‘Mum, we have to discuss a little thing called Gaydar…’

Leigh was still chuckling, even after she’d written a somewhat sobering recount of her previous evening once again, leaving out the best parts. She typed about fireplaces, her lack of interest in the book she’d passed over, the thrill of a real Christmas tree and how much better hot chocolate tasted when you were wearing a turn of the century nightgown. She wanted to write about Ryan, of course- she always felt better when she got her thoughts and feelings out there so other people could comment and tell her that she wasn’t alone in how she saw and felt the world, but she closed her blog and opened up to Kathryn Praser’s Twitter account, which she stalked weekly.

‘The muses are calling, this is going to be a write-heavy day!’

That made Leigh smile and she tucked her iPad away in her kindle, closed her eyes and dreamed.

*

Leigh still had three hours to kill after she’d finished her breakfast, so she decided to indulge herself in some incredibly tourist-y activities and was glad she had soon after. She hiked to the sky wheel on Cliffton Hill and took a lone ride around and around in the air on the gleaming white Ferris wheel, snapping so many photos that she barely saw any of the view without looking through the lens. The snow from the night before had already melted, leaving no trace but a thin coating of frost on some people’s car windshields, and though Leigh was disappointed to learn later that it rarely snowed so early in the year, she was grateful to have caught that one flake.

Niagara Falls looked so wonderful from up there, and as Leigh regarded it, she sighed and shook her head sadly. She had so many things to do before she left town, and yet she’d barely done any of it! Ryan’s company seemed like a fair exchange now, but really- she had to work harder to act like the tourist she was, instead of the girlfriend she was never going to get to be.

I haven’t been to the haunted house or the Rainforest Cafe or the bowling place… I have to start! As much as I want to go to Ryan’s gig tonight and dream a little dream, I need to put the fanny pack back on and do something! And I really should start by calling Bruce.

By the time Leigh made it to the falls, her arms were ready to fall off under the weight of her shopping bags, and she’d pretty much spent all of the money she’d saved in accommodation, but she was pleased and excited. She’d gotten Ryan two ornaments for his Christmas tree, and a tiny fabric angel for hers, and two new outfits, one of which she’d already changed into: black skinny jeans, chunky Docs, with a black netted shirt over a silver tank.

She’d gone to the mall afterwards and had had a woman braid her hair to one side, and then had gotten a make-up demonstration from a department store. She walked out feeling good- really good- strong enough to face Ryan again, and photo-worthy, which was important because if she did get to meet Kathryn Praser, she’d be taking a selfie with the woman!

I’m ready for this! I’m ready for anything! Sharp jaw and bug eyes be damned, the people who matter the most to me are going to damn well remember me once I’m gone, even if they do break my heart first!

The falls were crazy busy, but Leigh had no difficulty finding Ryan because all she had to do was follow the crowd of people gathered at his usual spot on the grassy knoll. Her heart began to twitch as she followed his incredible voice through the throng, and when she saw him, it all fell away; her fancy hair, her make-up shield, the striking clothes- leaving her wet and naked and trembling and defenseless once more.

‘Yes it’s going to be a cold, lonely summer…’ Ryan was singing ‘Sealed With A Kiss’ and he was singing it to her, as though he’d spotted her making her way toward him and had selected the song that would make her heart trip the hardest. Only there was no way to tell if he was looking at her at all because he was wearing dark glasses that concealed his greatest asset. He should have looked less appealing without those eyes blazing for all to see, and yet covering them only served to draw attention to everything else that he had going for them- the slightly bruised hue of his wide, generous lips, the sexy way his hair fell to one side across his glossy black brows, and the translucent glow to his olive complexion. He was freshly shaven and wearing ripped, pale blue jeans with a neon blue fitted shirt under his black leather jacket, and he looked so delicious and rock star that Leigh was tempted to throw her panties at him, and may have were she wearing a skirt instead of jeans.

Leigh sighed as quietly as she could and sagged to the ground at the inner edge of his audience, dropping her shopping bags around her and shaking her head to herself, trying to ignore the dirl within her core. Had she honestly believed that dressing up a little more than usual would give her some sort of upper hand when it came to this man? Ryan’s lip twitched with a smile as though he knew he’d taken her legs out from under her again, and Leigh could only stare back, at a complete loss as to how to proceed. The book-learned part of her knew that she ought top whip out a novel and read or something- feign a level of disinterest, but who on earth could read in his presence? Once again, there were more people gaping at him than at the falls!

‘I was hoping I’d find you here…’

Leigh looked up, shocked to see Bruce melt forward from the crowd and kneel beside her. ‘Bruce!’

Uh-oh and YES! Please distract me Bruce- cause a scene if you must but stop me from looking at that man for at least five seconds or I’m going to die!

‘Hey…’ Bruce was wearing sunglasses too, but his smile looked as awkward and sheepish as hers felt. ‘Got a minute?’

‘Hey...’ Leigh pulled some of her bags out of the way and patted the ground, all of her horrible feelings from the day before rushing back to her and she welcomed them because it was preferable to the hyperventilating she’d been about to start doing over Ryan’s blue shirt. ‘Yes please, sit. I was going to call you later to apologize-’

‘I was going to call Weaver’s to do the same thing. I just wasn’t sure if…’ Bruce sat beside her and pulled on her braid. ‘You look cute! Special occasion?’

Leigh opted to preen instead of blush. ‘I’m hoping to go stalk that author today.’ She pressed her hand against his. ‘Thank you so much for the address, and I’m so sorry for that scene yesterday.’

But Bruce shook his head, his cheeks as bright as his hair. ‘No please don’t apologize. I feel crummy enough without you making me feel even guiltier.’ He took off his glasses and yes; the sheepishness had made it to his light brown eyes. ‘I was a prick yesterday morning and you were right- it was unprofessional of me to show up at your door so many times to force my company on you, and even taking my job out of the equation- my behavior was anything but smooth.’ He scratched his head, wincing. ‘I wish I could say that that sort of scene is a rare occurrence for me, but Paisley trained me to get a little crazy, unfortunately so…’ he cleared his throat. ‘I get jealous and pitch fits, apparently.’