Chasing Alys

by Morgana Bevan

  He was an up-and-coming rock star. Even now there were plenty of women waiting for their chance to swoop in and promise him anything he wanted. I couldn’t understand why he was so fixated on me. Staying here would only tempt me and deepen whatever this was when all I wanted was to lose my killer shoes and bury myself under a duvet or two with a bar of dark chocolate.

  “I should go.”

  Ryan sighed, standing with me. “Okay, just let me walk you to a taxi?” he asked, his eyes imploring.

  Words froze in my throat under that stare. Instead, I nodded and started weaving through the crowd. My eyes searched for Emily or Jared. Soon I spotted Emily through a gap in the crowd. She caught my eye, and I nodded towards the exit. She waved me away, mouthing, “See you at home.”

  I knew the moment Ryan caught up. The small space I’d managed to create closed in as people focused on his face, clamouring to get closer. They all talked animatedly at him. Some had phones out, and others clutched napkins, asking him to sign them. They just kept creeping closer and closer.

  Ryan’s arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me into the shelter of his body. With my heart beating loudly in my ears, I let him force a path through the bodies.

  Was it like this every time he went out?

  No. People had kept their distance at the dive bar. Why was a club different, or had the atmosphere at the dive bar also shifted after they’d played?

  The attention unnerved me. All I could do was press my face into Ryan’s chest and trust him to get me outside.

  Cool air hit my damp skin, but I barely felt the cold of the night despite that goose bumps that prickled over my bare arms.

  “Are you okay?” Ryan asked, his voice almost booming in my ears as they adjusted to the relative quiet of the paved street.

  My eyes were as round as saucers when they jumped to his anxious face. I swallowed against the throb of my pulse. My nod was slight. Ryan’s features hardened as he swore. He pulled me back into his arms and led me down the street, past dark shop front windows displaying all manner of things. His hands buffed at my arms. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to comfort me or keep me warm, but it was soothing either way.

  The closer we got to the taxi rank, the more the thunder of my heartbeat calmed. We stopped next to a waiting black taxi with its light on. The driver stood nearby smoking a cigarette. When he spotted us, he lifted his chin. He dropped the fag and stomped it out before rushing over to us.

  Ryan held me away from his chest and studied my shocked face. I was fairly certain that if I looked in a mirror, I’d find myself ghostly. His lips compressed at the sight.

  “I’m sorry about that.” He gestured back to the club. “That doesn’t normally happen. I don’t understand why it did tonight.” He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration darkening his eyes.

  I shrugged, magicking up an air of nonchalance from somewhere. “You’re an up-and-coming rock star. It was going to happen someday.”

  “I know, but not here. We don’t have a following in Cardiff.”

  My eyes flicked back to the club. I could still hear the music; the bass vibrated down the street. They were lucky this was a commercial zone. The complaints would have been constant.

  “Looks like you just got one.”

  My words didn’t ease the tension in his face. I didn’t know how to do that or why I felt the need to comfort him.

  “I’ll be better prepared from now on,” he said, his tone dripping with desperation.

  Despite the situation, my lips twitched. “What are you going to do? Wear a disguise?”

  His nod was swift. “If it’ll help, absolutely.”

  “I appreciate the suggestion, but maybe this was just a sign that it wouldn’t work out anyway.” I took a step back, towards the waiting taxi. “It was a fun couple of days, Ryan,” I said, trying to inject some light into his sad expression.

  The truth in those words took me by surprise. I had had fun with him, even if our interactions were brief. I’d miss his easy smile and the way he seemed to draw me to him like a magnet.

  Wordlessly, he stepped around me and opened the taxi door. With a grateful smile, I slid in and buckled up.

  Fun or not, I couldn’t give in. At this point, it felt like I needed to prove that I could be happy without a man messing with my head. Breaking a promise to myself for a guy who had women tracking his every movement would be foolish.

  I was giving the driver my address when Ryan knocked on my window. He gestured for me to roll it down and I hit the button, frowning.

  Ryan leaned forward until his head was level with mine. Something had eased in him and he had that determination shining in his eyes again. My stomach dropped at the sight. In that second, my wishes to be a mind reader came true. I knew what he was going to say before he uttered the words.

  “There’s something important here and I’m not giving up yet.”

  We stared at each other, shocked and resolute gazes clashing. He stepped away from the car without breaking eye contact.

  I searched for words to discourage him, to end it more than his leaving would, but none came. The taxi pulled away, cutting the line on my attempt to stop this odd fascination.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning, I braved the blinding light of our kitchen without hesitation. I’d only had one glass of wine, so why I was surprised by the lack of debilitating pain, I have no idea.

  Emily stood at the stove flipping pancakes. Major déjà vu.

  “What time did you get in?” I croaked, making a beeline for the kettle. I had never been a morning person, hungover or not.

  Water sloshed as I gave the kettle a small shake. Satisfied that I wasn’t going to boil it dry, I flipped the switch. “Do you want tea?” I asked, pulling mugs out of the cupboard.

  It took a few minutes for Emily’s silence to register. I paused on my way to the fridge. “Are you alright?”

  “So, what happened with you and Ryan last night?” She turned towards me with the spatula raised in what could be construed as a threatening manner.

  “Not a lot.”

  “But you looked so cosy on the dance floor together.” She pouted, her pancakes forgotten as she gave me sad puppy dog eyes.

  “How much did you drink in the end?” There might have been a touch of relief in my voice. For a second, I thought she’d brought someone home and was struggling with her one-night stand decision. Although her fixating on Ryan might not be any better.

  The kettle clicked off while she thought back, and I got busy making us both an oat milk tea.

  “A lot, I guess. We didn’t get in until the early hours. Those guys really know how to party.” She laughed, turning back to the stove.

  “We?” I squeaked, almost scattering a teaspoon of sugar across the counter.

  “Well, Jared’s passed out in my—Oh hey, babe.” She grinned, eyes jumping to the door.

  The guy from the bar – the drummer – chose that moment to lumber into the kitchen. He went straight to Emily, dipping his chin in greeting to me. Jared pulled her into a scorcher of a kiss. I felt a bit sick watching it.

  “Want some pancakes?” Emily asked, staring up at him with unfocused eyes.

  “Thanks, but I think we’d better hit the road. Is Ryan still here?”

  Warning bells went off in my head, big burly flashing lights. “Why would Ryan be here?”

  Emily shot me a look.

  “We were all up pretty late. Emily offered him the sofa so he wouldn’t have to go back to the Bay,” Jared said.

  Ryan is here?

  “It takes longer to get here than to the Bay from town,” I pointed out.

  Swearing under my breath, I gave my best friend a stinking look and dumped my untouched tea in the sink. Forget a quiet morning. I needed to get the hell out of the flat before he cornered me again. Alright, I was a coward. I admit it.

  “He’s definitely stuck on you.” Jared chuckled.

  “Well, that’s great.
Tell him to get unstuck,” I muttered on my way to the door. “I’ll see you later, Emily. I’m going for a run.”

  “You don’t run.” She didn’t try to mask the astonishment in her voice.

  “I do now.” If it got me out of the flat fast, I’d take on a marathon.

  “Give me a sec to throw the pair of them out and I’ll join you.”

  “No!” I almost shouted, panic cracking my voice. “I mean, that’s okay. It looks like it’s going to rain, and I’d rather get out and back before it tips down.”

  “The forecast was dry for today. You’re just scared,” the perceptive bugger said, delighted.

  “Catch you later!”

  I ignored Jared’s amused grin and the knowing gleam in Emily’s eyes. Considering she was meant to be anti-relationship now too, she and Jared were awfully pally. What the hell happened?

  After casting a wary glance at the closed living room door, I shoved mine open with my shoulder. No man had ever given chase. I’d say no and they just went away. Why was Ryan so different?

  Halfway around the park, huffing and puffing through the worst stitch of my life, I cursed myself, Emily, and Ryan multiple times.

  Before Ryan walked into my life, everything was straightforward. I hadn’t felt the slightest inkling of interest in a guy since Jason decided he wanted to get serious and ghosted the next day. I was done trying. Done with men, done with relationships, done with casual sex. From then on out, I promised to focus on myself, my career, my very active dancing obsession and my friends. Men could take a hike. It had been blissful, freeing even.

  Yes, I’d been perfectly fine before Ryan. I wasn’t running around a park a red-faced, sweaty disaster on a Sunday morning. I was looking forward to some well-deserved time off, catching up on missed hours of sleep and mentally recharging for my next job, which was going to take me to Budapest. But then he had to walk down those stairs, talk to me at the gig and ruin everything.

  Now, he had a personality, he made me laugh and turned me on. He was more than just a smile. I couldn’t ignore him, as much as I wanted to. You know he’s going back to Glasgow. Don’t start anything. Hold your guns.

  But what-ifs plagued me at every turn. What if I gave him a chance? What if it worked? What if it didn’t? What if it fizzled like normal? What if it turned into more?

  I didn’t have any answers beyond my constant frustration, so I just started running faster, as if I could outrun all my thoughts and dreams and desires. What if I never went back home and just kept running?

  An hour and half later, I ventured back to the flat. Unlike two nights ago, I trudged up the stairs a stinking, apprehensive mess.

  Emily stood in the hall, grinning at me. “Thought I heard you skulking about down there. They left. You’re safe.”

  I followed her down the hall to the kitchen, glancing in every room. All of my senses were on high alert, expecting an ambush. I was losing it.

  “Wine or chocolate?” Emily asked, holding a bar of rich dark chocolate and a bottle of Malbec out in offering. Where the wine had come from, I had no idea. I hadn’t replenished our supply. It was only 10AM, so I took the chocolate and collapsed into a kitchen chair. “I don’t think he’s going away.”

  I nodded, shoving the subject to the back of my head, and tore into the chocolate wrapper – because chocolate cured all problems. I broke the block into bite-sized pieces. Was it considered unhealthy to take my frustrations out on a bar of chocolate? I wasn’t sure I cared either way. Popping a square between my lips, I let it sit on my tongue, melting just enough to coat my mouth.

  “Congratulations. Ryan Evans is yours for the taking,” Emily said, missing the move-on memo. She eased into the wooden chair opposite me, propping her elbows on the table.

  “Thanks for the unhelpful reminder. In future, I just won’t go to anymore Rhiannon gigs with you and all will be right with my world,” I mumbled around a square of chocolate, projecting an unaffected calm. It was a partial lie, although I did want my uncomplicated life back.

  “You mean safe.”

  “Maybe.” I popped another piece of chocolate into my mouth and leaned back in my chair, willing my shoulders to relax.

  “It might not help, but I don’t think he’s like any of your exes.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “Call it a gut instinct. He just doesn’t give off wandering-eye vibes,” Emily said, reaching out to slide the bar away from me. I’d eaten half of it already and was well on my way to a sugar high. Even so, my hand fell heavy on the table, stopping her theft.

  “Oh, please!” I fired. “He’s a rock star. Every girl in the bar last night wanted him, and most of them wouldn’t have cared if he’d been taken.” Barely veiled scorn dripped from my words.

  “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean he would want any of them.”

  “You didn’t see the way they got when he tried to leave.” My hands shook with phantom fear. “It wasn’t normal, Em.”

  Her expression softened, and her hand settled over mine, stilling it. “That still doesn’t mean he’d stray. He seemed pretty focused on you last night.”

  She was right. He had been. It didn’t ease the worry, though.

  “I hadn’t realised just how much Liam scarred you,” she said, her voice sad and tears shining in her eyes. “All of my experience and knowledge, and I feel like I’ve failed you.”

  I’d always blamed my eternal pessimism for my distrusting nature. Granted, Liam had probably darkened my vision of men a little earlier than most teenagers experienced, but could I really give him credit for all my failures? He opened my eyes, but it wasn’t like he chose my dates – that disaster was all on me.

  I turned my hand over and caught hers, squeezing to convey some of my gratitude. “You can’t fix what I don’t let you see.”

  Her eyes cast down, and I frowned. She didn’t look reassured. If anything, she looked heartbroken. No way was that my fault.

  “What happened? I didn’t think Jared would upset you when he left.”

  She sighed. “He didn’t. Oliver turned up again.”

  “What did he want?” I whispered, the words slipping from my lips with reluctance. I’d hoped the fool would be smart and stay far away from her. But then, he’d been stupid enough to cheat on her.

  Her face shut down in an instant, and all emotion retreated behind the shutters. The person left staring back at me was not the vibrant girl I’d known for fifteen years. “The usual for these situations, I guess. The guys chased him off.”

  This situation wasn’t in any way usual. “He tried to make excuses again?”

  She nodded. “More empty promises. He says he misses me.” The words were almost lost to the ticking of the kitchen clock.

  “Do you believe him?”

  Her answering laugh sounded more like a bark. “God, no. He thinks he’s saying all the right things, but he only regrets getting caught. I don’t want that life.”

  “Then you won’t,” I vowed with a little more strength than necessary. She smiled, cracking her controlled expression.

  “He just said some pretty shitty things when he saw Jared. It was eye opening.”

  I didn’t want to know what Oliver had said. It would only make my blood boil again. Maybe there was one benefit to Jared and Ryan sticking around last night.

  “How was your first one-night stand?”

  The sadness in her eyes faded, replaced by a glimmer I’d never seen before. “Amazing. I’m just hoping Jared hasn’t ruined me for other guys.” She was grinning, but her cheeks reddened, ruining her unaffected air.

  I eyed her with concern. “And you’re not the slightest bit attached?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. It was exactly what I needed: some unconditional fun.”

  I frowned at her smiling face. This was wildly unexpected. I was certain I was going to have to peel her off the floor, sobbing. I preferred this outcome, of course, but it bewildered me all the same.

&n
bsp; “I promise I’m not going to wake up tomorrow in love with Jared Michaels. My eyes are open, and I know exactly what I want from him.” She pushed her chair back and stood. “Maybe you should spend some more time figuring out what you want from Ryan?” She wiggled her eyebrows. I could go a long time without seeing that again.

  I leaned back in my chair, stretching out the new tightness in my muscles. Maybe I should have stretched properly before I sat down. “I’m sure he’s halfway to the English border by now. I’d rather not waste the time.”

  Emily shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She placed a piece of paper on the table. “He left his number. In case you want to waste the time.”

  It was a tiny scrap of paper, torn off from one of the many empty envelopes littering our hallway table. Easily lost. Easily ignored. Yet my heart raced just looking at it. Four hundred miles might mean nothing. It might all be fine. It might be the one choice I’d regret not making.

  Or I was right and it would all end in a disaster show of emotions that would set me back.

  Either way, I could not spend the day locked in the flat with my what-ifs. I needed distracting.

  “Fancy cycling over to the farmers’ market after I get rid of the sweat?” I asked Emily before she could leave the room.

  “Sure. Shall we leave in an hour?”

  “Deal.”

  Chapter Twelve

  By the time we made it to the farmer’s market, I had a deep pit of hunger in my stomach and my eyes burned from lack of energy. Add the frigid November air and my bike-ride-heated skin to the mix and it was a wonder I wasn’t huddled next to the heaters set up inside the white tents surrounding each stall.

  Emily had eaten her pancakes so there would be no hangry encounters in my near future. But chances were high that I’d collapse if I didn’t get food in my stomach sharpish. Ignoring every other vendor, I dragged her to the Indian stall I could always count on to be there, rain or shine. I was gasping for a samosa.

  People of all ages crowded the narrow walkway between stalls. Orange and red leaves littered the ground and bare branches hung overhead, steady in the breeze racing down the river from the bay. With my firm grip on Emily’s wrist, we weaved through the crowd without issue. Annoyingly, the Indian stall sat near the top of the market and we’d entered at the end after returning our rented bikes to a stand. Seasoned or not, it was slow moving and I nearly lost Emily twice to sweet stalls.