Two Hearts and a Lie (Offstage Book 2)

by Rica Grayson

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’re here.” I turn on my heel to leave, but he stops me, a hand on my arm. His fingers bite into my skin a little, but he releases me abruptly.

  “Wait, don’t leave yet.” He takes a drag from his cigarette. “So you’re the woman my son’s seeing. Must be nice, getting gifts from him.” His smile is almost mocking. “He give you a ring yet?”

  The personal nature of the question makes me go still. “Excuse me?” Did he really just ask that?

  “He won’t,” he states with absolute certainty, a sharp stab piercing my chest. Even though it hurt, I don’t let it show. “I don’t think that boy likes the idea of commitment. He dated this girl a couple years back. She kept her hopes up, but in the end she wanted more. Then he dropped her like a bad motherfucking habit.” He barked out a laugh. “I guess he needs someone like you right now. Someone to pass the time with.”

  My heart squeezes in my chest, and it feels as though I can’t breathe. Is that what I am to him? Just for his entertainment?

  No. I don’t know what he’s trying to start, but I can’t let him speak about Ryan that way. A deeper, long-buried part of me fears that maybe it’s not a complete lie—I push that voice aside. A spark of anger rises in my chest, hot and clawing. “He’s not like that.”

  Our history aside, thinking of the past few weeks, he’s never treated me with anything but care. Never treated me like someone to be cast aside. Now we’re even unlikely friends.

  He looks at me like I’ve gone mad. And maybe I have. “How long have you known him?” he sneers at me.

  Longer than you have. This time, my lips pull up. “I know he hates it when people talk to him only when they’re after something.” I know ever since his dad reconnected with them after he got his fame, their relationship was strained. It makes my heart sink, thinking that now he’ll never know if his dad’s desire to meet them again was ever genuine. “Outside of what you’re asking from him, did you ever ask him how he is?” I ask softly. “Or Natalie?”

  The effect is instantaneous—he jerks back as if struck. Unable to utter a word, he throws his cigarette down on the ground and crushes it beneath his heel. His beady eyes glare at me.

  “I thought so. Excuse me.” Not liking the turn of the conversation, I turn to leave. But he stops me, hand circling my wrist. His grip tightens. I try to tear my arm free. “Let go.”

  But his eyes drop to the pendant on my chest, and his expression lights up. With his other arm, he roughly pulls the necklace from my neck, tugging it hard. “He owes me this much.” The shock of the pull makes me go numb.

  He tries to tug it off again, this time, more aggressively, when, “Martin!” Gina exclaims. Ryan’s mom stands just at the entrance of the terrace, aghast. Her face severe, she wears a look I’ve never seen on her in all the years I’ve known her. Now I understand how she survived all these years raising them alone.

  “You’ll let her go,” Ryan’s voice cuts through the night, sharp and unbending. He stalks towards us. “Right fucking now, or I’ll see you out.” His words are both a warning and a promise. The tight rein on his mask is gone, expression thunderous. He towers over his dad by an inch or two, and he makes sure he’s aware of it.

  His mom stands behind him, arms crossed. And suddenly, I see where Ryan got his tenacity from. Natalie follows close behind, wide-eyed.

  Just like that, Martin releases me as he lifts both hands up—as if it makes him any less to blame. Clearly realizing he made a mistake, his face turns a beet red. “She went to me.” What?

  I stayed quiet throughout dinner, not wanting to draw attention or butt into their family issues. Somehow, I ended up getting involved in the worst way.

  Prepared to defend myself, I find I don’t need to. Ryan moves to block me from Martin’s view. I hear words thrown about cooling off or he’d regret laying a hand on me. Me and Natalie exchange a glance.

  I’ve never seen him this way before. He pulls in a breath, collecting himself. I watch in grim fascination as Ryan lowers his voice, until I can’t hear what he’s saying. Martin’s face turns ashen as he listens. Then his mouth snaps shut, and he walks away, cursing the whole way. He slams the front door shut.

  Oh my God.

  “I’m gonna go study,” Natalia says quickly, realizing it’s all over. “Bye.”

  “Nat, wait,” Ryan warns. But she’s already climbing the stairs by twos. He utters something low under his breath, exasperated.

  “Are you hurt?” he asks me, his expression dark.

  I can only shake my head, still unable to get over what had just transpired. He tips my chin up, searching my face for the truth.

  I see him fighting for control, but he lets go… Looking every bit like it tears at him to do so.

  I see him now. He worries about me. While that makes my heart race in my chest, a wave of emotions overwhelm me. Yes, I was scared for a moment there, but the other part of me still is in shock after everything that happened tonight. That someone supposed to care for him, for his interests, could only seem to think of himself. He holds a hand out. I take it without thinking, moving closer. My fingers brush back against his, letting him know wordlessly that I’m okay.

  It’s like he craves the contact. Some selfish part of me hopes it’s true, because I crave his touch too. That part intensely hates that I do, but I’m helpless to fight against it.

  Capitulating with a sigh, as if he can’t stand the distance between us, he closes it. His arms wrap around me, a blanket of strength and warmth. My head rests against his broad chest. Oh, we fit, like I belong right here, in between his arms. Knowing I can’t have him burrows the ache deeper in my chest.

  “I’m sorry about tonight.” Why is he apologizing for him?

  “You meant him,” I surmise. “When you said all people want something.”

  I feel him tilt his head in a small nod. “Among others.”

  “I’m sorry.” My lips quiver, but I can’t help it. He must sense that I’m crying, because his hands tighten just slightly on my back.

  “What the hell for?” He’s wound up, ready to deal with the threat that’s causing my tears.

  I choke back a sob. The words pour out. “I used to think—wow, you have absolutely everything anyone could ever want. I was wrong, wasn’t I? You don’t—not even close.”

  For all his wealth, for all the company that he has, it can’t fix a broken family. It can help stitch together your broken, jagged pieces, but not even all the money in the world can change the reality of something that can never be whole again. The truth of it cuts me.

  How must it feel, being surrounded by so many, but never really understood?

  The enormity of what I feel sinks in. It’s not just admiration anymore. It’s not just about his dedication to his craft, but his compassion towards others. The way family matters to him.

  It strikes me that our connection never really faded, even after all these years, and the depth of it terrifies me. It runs deeper. More than I can admit to myself.

  “Ryan, I think I’m good now.” I sniff, swiping the tears away. “I—I think we have everybody convinced now.”

  “You think so?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “I think we need to give it a bit more time.”

  “Ryan.”

  His shoulders shake as he laughs. But he releases me, and I catch him wearing a smirk. I roll my eyes. Clearly, he’s enjoying this.

  I never expected to feel this way again. I thought, after all these years, that I know better.

  “G-goodnight,” I say quickly. I need the distance to think, so he’s not clouding my thoughts.

  “Goodnight, Blaire,” he replies, eyes intense, on me. But it’s more than that. It’s an apology. I catch desire flaring in his eyes, and then it’s gone, the old Ryan I know back with a wicked, teasing grin. He always does that. Brushes it off like me, like this attraction isn’t as all-consuming and potent as it is. But still, his piercing gaze lingers in my m
ind.

  Ryan

  I can’t focus.

  It’s her—the way she makes me feel. I don’t know if I can hide it anymore. Hell, I don’t even want to. Time passes by quick with my job, but somehow, with her, it all slows down.

  I wipe the sweat off my brow from having done a round of boxing practice.

  My dad’s angry that I saw through his bullshit, and he wanted to hurt me through Blaire. Because hurting her would have landed a blow on me. Shit. I drag a hand across my face. When had that happened?

  And isn’t that just ironic? She hates me. Probably still does. I’ve gone ahead and fallen for someone who’ll probably walk when everything is done, and she wouldn’t give a second glance—not even for all the money in the world. For the first time in my life, I wish it isn’t the case.

  Must be going crazy.

  I’ve met people who stuck around because of the fame and everything it entailed. Many came and went. Few stayed. Time has a way of fucking you over and showing you who those people are.

  Dinner with my dad was a disaster, maybe driving my progress back in earning her trust. Hell, it shouldn’t have happened at all. By bringing her here, in a way, I let it happen. He isn’t touching her again. He doesn’t deserve to even breathe the same air as her.

  To add to it all, she still thinks it’s all a game. I’m starting to understand that it’s practically her defense mechanism against me. I think of the way she melted in my arms. Hell no, I’m not letting her slip away that easily.

  My thoughts are interrupted when my sister walks in the living room and ends a phone call with someone. She goes deathly still when she sees me, already planning to make her escape.

  Not a chance. “Natalie. We need to talk.”

  Chapter 18

  Blaire

  After I finished filming a short update to upload to my channel, I pack everything away and head downstairs to catch the sunrise.

  I had a fitful, dream-plagued sleep, and the weariness still soaks my bones. I dreamt every person unsubscribed for me overnight, realizing I’m no good after all. I rub at my temples, desperate to clear the lingering traces of the dream from my mind. I bring my notebook and pen downstairs with me. I have a purple notebook, battered in the months I’ve used it, having brought it everywhere with me.

  I find Ryan beat me to an early rise—not that I blame him, after everything that happened last night. He’s lying on their long charcoal lounge and staring up at the ceiling, arms spread out, hands folded underneath his head. My eyes follow the tight muscles of his biceps and I close my eyes. Okay, he works out. So what? Don’t let that make you stupid.

  I clear my throat, not wanting to surprise him. “Hey. Can’t sleep?”

  He shifts, placing his body weight on his elbow, and his eyes do a slow once-over before they slide back up to meet mine. The look he sends me is positively sinful, daring me to act on my impulses. When I don’t, he breaks his gaze and looks out at the distance. He sits up and plays with one of the tassels of a pillow absently.

  “No,” he finally admits. “Natalie was quiet last night. Something’s upsetting her and she won’t tell me. I’ve been gone for so long, I don’t know how I can fix it.”

  The frustration rolls off him in waves. He sits up on the sofa and studies my face. “You know what’s happening,” he observes.

  I simply shrug. “It’s not my place to tell, but you shouldn’t keep secrets from her.”

  His brows draw close. “Secrets? I’m not keeping secrets.”

  Unconvinced, I cross my arms over my chest. “Think harder. I’m sure you’ve forgotten something.”

  A flash of his teeth tells me he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “I took care of a problem.”

  I snort. Unbelievable, this guy. “Seriously?”

  “I don’t want her to get hurt,” he says through gritted teeth.

  “You don’t get to decide that for her,” I say, my voice softer this time. If there’s anything I learned about him, it’s that he cares about his family.

  He runs a hand through his hair, torn. “Yeah, I get that. I’ll try talking to her again later.”

  He zeroes in on the notebook I’m holding. “What’s that?”

  Geez. And I thought he wouldn’t notice. There’s no way I’m telling him what’s in here. I shrug. “Just scribbles.”

  His eyes light up in understanding. “Your songs.”

  How does he know that? My brows lift up. “Do you have x-ray vision or something?” Seriously, it’s getting a little irritating how well he knows me.

  “Powers of observation, Red. You’ve done this twice now. I remember what Kiara said.”

  The words are stuck in my throat. I don’t want to talk about my music with him. Especially not him.

  “You were going to write something this morning?”

  “No,” I lie, looking at the high-rise buildings outside, pretending something had caught my interest.

  “You still can.”

  “No.”

  He chuckles. “What, no other words to say?”

  When I don’t answer, his expression sobers. “I wouldn’t mind, Blaire.”

  I shake my head, hugging my notebook to my chest. “This is… It’s mine.”

  Although he doesn’t ask, something tells me he wants to hear it. But part of me needs to hold it close, unable to let it go. I can’t do it. Give it to him.

  If he heard it, it would reveal another piece of me, far more personal and telling than what he read years ago—I may as well be handing him my heart. And what good had that ever done? He’d all but proven, in every opportunity, all he did was break it.

  I don’t know what he sees in my face, but he rises to his feet. I take a few steps back. All I know is if I let him close, I don’t think I could pretend anymore. I don’t think I can pretend to be so indifferent. So unaffected. This thing between us will end soon. Last night made me see him differently. Made me understand him better. Another chink in my armor, effortlessly whittled away.

  “What are you hiding, Blaire?”

  “Nothing,” the reply immediately springs from my lips. Everything.

  The echo of a notification sound pierces through the moment from the vicinity of the staircase. Our heads immediately turn to the direction of the stairs.

  A few seconds later, the steps make small creaking sounds, revealing a guilty Natalie. “Oops. Am I interrupting something?”

  “No,” I answer immediately, embarrassed.

  Gina pops her head in. “Ryan? I need a little help moving one of the tables in the kitchen. Can you…?”

  “Sure,” Ryan answers easily, leaving me and Natalie alone.

  Natalie pulls me to the side. Her lips pull up in a small smile. “You’re just helping him with something?” she echoes what I told her yesterday. She shakes her head. “There is no way that’s all it is.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well… That’s all it is.” She’s reading entirely too much into this. I might feel something for him, but it’s all on my end.

  “Just calling it like I see it.” She holds my gaze, resolve burning in hers. “I don’t know what happened between you two last night, but I’ve never seen my brother act that way around anyone. Ever.”

  “You’re reading too much into it. I’m sure he’d do the same for everyone else.” Wouldn’t he?

  Frustration tears through her face. “I don’t understand. You know him. You know he doesn’t trust easy. But he trusts you.”

  “We’re friends.” Somehow, the words sound hollow from my lips.

  She looks at me oddly. “Blaire…”

  “Nat, please.”

  She draws in a deep breath. “Fine. But you know, I’ve never known Ry to give up on someone he cares about.”

  That’s what I’m afraid of. I clutch my notebook tighter. Time to do what I’ve been meaning to do when I got up this morning. “Nat, do you know anywhere here I could get away to write?”

  “Oh, we’ve got a music room w
hen you turn left at the end of the hallway. Ryan uses it when he’s here, but it’s mostly empty. He’s had it all specially built for it, too.”

  “Do you think he wouldn’t mind me using it?”

  She waves a hand. “Nah, we get visitors there all the time. It’s a great collab room, or so I’ve heard.”

  “That would be perfect. Thanks!” Maybe I can write something this morning after all.

  Ryan

  “You’re up early,” I say, catching Natalie in the kitchen.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Natalie says. Ah. It was the same with me. “I know Mom wants everyone to get along, but I don’t think it’s going to happen, honestly.”

  “I don’t think it’s gonna happen either. Especially after last night.” I pause. “Are you talking to me now?”

  She glares at me. “Are you ready to answer my questions now?”

  I narrow my eyes. “You’re upset over Markus,” I voice out. Un-fucking-believable. “That’s what this is about?”

  After I had seen him with his arms around another woman while he was supposedly dating my sister, we had a talk. My only mistake was not telling her. Except I didn’t want her hurt, and he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve her.

  “Yes.” She smiles sweetly. “Since you don’t even bother telling me what’s happening, saying you only did what’s best for me, I figured I should do the same.” When had she gotten to be a smartass?

  Shit. I didn’t want to have to go there, but now it looks like I’ll have to.

  “First, you always have someplace to be and second, you’re not even telling me what’s going on.”

  I wasn’t too hard on her. I think. “I really was busy,” I explain, trying to smooth over my fuck-ups. “But I should’ve told you.”

  “You should’ve,” she agreed. “I’m just saying, stop treating me with kid gloves. I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”