Aside from Gracie, Julie didn’t talk about Ryland to anyone. For the next few weeks, they continued to talk—mostly by text since Ryland was really busy—but they called each other at least once every day. Between calls, they sent each other videos, shared music they liked, and even started venting to each other when they were stressed. It was amazing and Julie was desperately afraid that something was going to ruin it—like Ryland asking her to do more than just talk. If he asked her to go anywhere, she’d have to tell him about her anxiety issues, and that would be the end.
So, for now, this was her secret. She didn’t tell her mom when they had their weekly Sunday catch-up sessions, or her sister Brianna in any of their many texts. She didn’t breathe a word to her critique partner friends, and she certainly didn’t mention it to Heath, even though he kept asking if she’d talked to Ryland again. Instead, she’d merely said, “Yeah, we’ve talked a couple of times.” Not, “I think I’m starting to fall for this guy.”
When she did her weekly vlog, she forced herself to talk about her books, but couldn’t help throwing a special message in for Ryland in case he watched it. “And for anyone wondering, yes, I’m still listening to Sterling House every day. Their music inspires me in so many ways, and I can’t imagine going back to the days when I didn’t know Ryland Sterling existed.” She felt nervous sharing her feelings in such an obvious way—well, obvious to Ryland at least, but it felt right too. Wrapping up her video, she said. “And now, I told you guys once that I’d be doing a few public appearances while promoting the movie for Omen. Well, I’m going to let you guys help me pick. Tell me in the comments if I should go to Comic Con in Rhode Island or Dragon Con Atlanta.”
She sent the video over to Heath for editing before she posted it on her channel. When he sent it back, she watched it through and saw that the last part of the video had been cut off. “That’s weird,” she said to Gracie.
She called Heath immediately. “Hey, do you know what happened to the video? The last thirty seconds of it got cut off.”
“Hmmm. I have no idea. I’ll see if I can figure it out.”
When he sent it back, it was with a short note of some technical jargon she didn’t understand, but the lost footage was back on there. She posted it on her channel and then tried to focus on her writing. Of course, the attempt was a complete failure. How would Ryland respond to what she’d said? Would he even watch it?
Two hours later, he sent her a simple text.
Atlanta.
She hadn’t expected that. Oh really? Why?
Because I live there and I think its time we met in person, don’t you?
What did she think? Her brain spun so hard she couldn’t think at all.
Of course she wanted to go. More than anything. Seeing Ryland in person, figuring out if this chemistry between them was real, was the obvious next step in this…whatever they were doing. And since she had to get on a plane anyway to do the appearance, maybe she could do two things at once.
But how? Julie hadn’t flown on a plane since her freshman year at college. Planes were the worst possible place to be. They were tight, crowded, and smelled funny, Plus, she couldn’t get out if she needed to. The chances of her having a panic attack were about a hundred percent.
But fate seemed to be pushing her toward this so she texted him back.
Atlanta it is.
Now she just needed to figure out how to get on a plane before she chickened out.
***
Julie opened the door for Heath and gave him a hug. “Thanks for coming.”
He scowled and shut the door. “I think this is a bad idea.”
“No, it’s not. I have to be able to do this convention. I’m contractually obligated.”
Heath scowled but didn’t argue. “I guess.”
She had deliberately omitted that she would be meeting Ryland on this trip and that it was the main motivation for her to go, not her contract. For some reason she didn’t understand, Heath got irritated every time his name was mentioned.
“Why are you so against this anyway?” Julie asked as Heath stepped around her and headed toward her kitchen. “Don’t you want me to get control of my anxiety?”
“Yeah, but you’ve been doing so well lately I just hate to see you stir things up.” Heath sighed and went to her fridge. He pulled out one of the Mt. Dews she always kept stocked for him, popped the tab, and started chugging. She watched in awe as he finished the whole thing, then crumpled the can and tossed it in the trash.
“Thirsty?”
“I needed the caffeine. I was up all night programming.” He burped then, loud and long. Julie wrinkled her nose. Guys were so gross sometimes.
“That can’t be healthy.”
“What?”
“All of it. Staying up late, drinking sodas that fast. Yikes.”
“Look, are we going to do this or not? If you really want to get ready to fly, I know just the thing.”
Julie took a step back. “I don’t like that gleam in your eyes.”
“Let’s see what you’re made of.”
Thirty minutes later, Julie parked at the rodeo grounds on the other side of town. This early in the evening, there were only a few people milling about the parking lot, but as they walked toward the arena, she saw that there was actually a good-sized crowd. A carnival had been brought in, complete with rides, and the weather was perfect, so it wasn’t surprising that a lot of people had come out for it.
When Julie had to turn and squeeze herself between people, her breathing grew ragged. Her throat tightened, so she tried to force herself to calm down and breathe. Frantic, she turned to look back to the parking lot—toward escape. But she was totally lost and had no idea which way to go. Then she bumped into Heath’s back.
“You okay?”
“Yes,” she lied.
“There you go,” he said. “Go get in line.”
She followed his pointing finger and saw with absolute terror that he was pointing toward the Ferris wheel. “No. Way.” She turned to walk away, but he caught her arm and pulled her back.
“You brought me because you wanted someone to force you when you got scared. So get going.”
“Aren’t you coming with me?”
“No. You have to go on the plane by yourself. If you can’t even get on that Ferris wheel, how in the heck are you going to fly?”
Julie stood, forcing her lungs to breath even though it felt like a steel band had closed around them. Then she thought of Ryland, of being able to see him in person. “Okay. You’re right.” She took a few steps toward the line.
“You’re doing it?”
“You didn’t think I would, did you? Well, you were wrong.” How sad was it that even her closest friend didn’t think she was capable of riding a Ferris wheel? She moved toward the ropes that snaked toward the ride. Just waiting in that line, penned in by ropes and people, was enough of a challenge to make her want to cry. As she forced her feet to carry her to the end of the line, every muscle in her shoulder and neck tensed. She felt herself growing warm even while a cold sweat broke out on her forehead.
“I can do this,” she said.
The teenage girl in front of her turned around. “What was that?”
“Oh, nothing.”
She managed to survive while the line slowly moved up eight feet over the next fifteen minutes. The ride was five minutes long, she’d figured out, and there were twelve cars, so twenty-four people could go each time. She counted the people in front of her and saw that she only had ten more minutes to wait. She could do this.
But then a big group of teenage boys got into line behind her. They were tall and kept rough-housing, jostling her occasionally. Some of them were flirting with the girls in front of her, pressing her into a tighter and tighter space until her personal bubble was completely obliterated. She wiped her forehead with her hand then dried it on her jeans. This was it. She was going to have a panic attack right here. And her throat was going to close up so ti
ghtly she wouldn’t be able to breathe, and then she’d die. And there wasn’t even enough room for her to fall over, so no one would even notice.
Ryland. She had to do this to go to Ryland. Well, maybe he could help her do it. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, and even though it took her a minute to untangle the earbuds from her other pocket since her fingers were shaking so badly, she managed it at last. She fit them into her ears and put her Sterling House playlist on shuffle.
When Ryland’s smooth, powerful voice swept through her, she took her first deep breath. The squeaky slide of calloused fingers across steel guitar strings held her attention. She could feel the immediacy and the rawness of the music even over the trembling weakness in her legs and the fiery hot flush in her skin. Her body was in the grip of an internal monster, but now her mind could focus on something besides the fact that she was out of control. Note after note, beat after beat, she survived.
“Next,” bellowed the man running the ride.
Julie’s eyes popped open. She stepped forward and collapsed into the swinging metal chair. Panic crept back in when she knew she was trapped and about to be wheeled around through the air. Moving quickly, she changed songs to a pounding rock song the band had covered. She needed power and strength and dominance to hide behind. She kept her eyes closed and gripped the rail in front of her. Somehow, even with her stomach somersaulting and her hair blowing around her face, she didn’t pass out. Even though it was painful and hard, she kept breathing.
At last the ride ended. When her car reached the bottom, she jumped out as soon as the bar was lifted and then ran through the gate and out into the crowd where Heath waited for her.
“I did it,” she said, her voice ragged and tight.
“Yeah, but you look awful. Well, I guess that’s that, huh?”
Julie glared at him for a second then kept walking. She had no idea where the parking lot was, so she picked a direction and kept going.
“So you’re not going, right?” Heath asked. “The flight will be so much worse. You’ll have to go through security, and wait at a gait, and be stuffed in with a bunch of other people for hours.”
Julie spun and lifted her chin. “I’m not an idiot. I know exactly how awful it’s going to be. But somehow I have to get on that plane.”
Chapter Six
Julie had agreed to come to Atlanta. Ryland was thrilled but he knew Julie had some reservations. He could hear a note of tension in her voice very time they talked. He had no idea what the problem was, but stressing about it like he was, he’d thought of a lot of possibilities. And none of them were good.
Had she lied about being single? Was she not that interested but feeling pressured by who he was? Was she afraid they were moving too fast?
Consumed with questions, he worked extra hard during his work out with his personal trainer, Jack. He was tough and demanding, sometimes pushing Ryland harder than he wanted to go, but today he needed the brutal repetition of kicks and punches to fight through his dark thoughts.
“That’s enough for today,” Jack said, stepping back off the mat.
Ryland dropped his fists and let his shoulders fall. Jack tossed him a towel. Catching it, Ryland wiped the sweat from his face and paced around the room to cool his twitchy, over-taxed muscles.
“You worked hard today,” Jack said, watching him pace.
“I needed to clear my head.”
Nodding, Jack began putting away the gear they’d used. “Exercise is good for that. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Thanks for putting up with me.” Ryland checked his watch and saw he was going to be late. They were shooting a music video today. He had just enough time to shower and throw on some clean shorts and a t-shirt. He’d be going through wardrobe later anyway. Glancing at his watch, he ran from his gym over the garage straight down to his Lamborghini Huracon Performante. This was the car he drove when he wanted to make good time into Atlanta. And today that was certainly the case.
His brothers were already on set when he arrived, listening to the video director as he went through the concept of the video with them.
“Way to dress up for the video, Ry.” Elijah grinned and lightly punched him across the chest.
“What? I look amazing.”
Tate rolled his eyes. “You’d better hurry. Time is money, and we’re paying a whole crew to stand around right now.”
Ryland smiled and turned away. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t take long to make me pretty.”
Twenty minutes later, he joined the band in front of the bright lights. Elijah tapped his shoulder with a drumstick on his way over to sit at the drum set. “What happened to looking pretty?”
Ryland put sat down at the piano and ran his fingers over the piano keys. “They used up all the makeup on you, I guess.”
Tate laughed at them, but Elijah wasn’t done. “Too bad most of the closeups are going to be on you. Don’t forget to make all those funny faces while you’re lip syncing so it looks like you’re actually singing.”
Ryland clenched his teeth and ran through some chords to warm up his fingers. He hated lip syncing when they were shooting videos. He just wasn’t very good at it. It was necessary, however, so he didn’t wear out or hurt his voice as they did take after take. Usually, he ended up singing for closeups anyway because he couldn’t replicate all the tell-tale movements of his throat and face that were so obvious when he was really into the song.
The director called action then and there was no more time for teasing. But between takes, light changes, and B-footage shots, Ryland had plenty of time to think about Julie. Her convention was in three days. She’d be going to that first, and then coming to stay in his guest house for a few days. Unfortunately, even after she got to his house, he wouldn’t have much time with her.
But whatever time he could manage to spend with her, he’d make sure to make it count. Having her close, where he could touch her, feel her close, was going to be incredible. He just hoped she felt the same way.
“There he goes staring at his phone again,” Tate said.
Elijah tapped his drumsticks on the rim of his snare while the director moved in to get a close-up of Tate riffing on his guitar. “It’s probably Julie again.”
“I wish,” Ryland said. “She’s a whole lot prettier than you two gremlins.”
Pressing a hand to his chest, Elijah looked offended. “She couldn’t be.”
Ryland felt stiff so he got up from the piano bench and stretched his aching muscles. His workout was coming back to bite him.
“Let’s see her then,” Elijah said. “You’ve been so secretive about her that I’m starting to think you’re ashamed of her.”
Ryland stopped at that. “Hardly.” He pulled up Julie’s video blog and sent Elijah a link to her latest video. He always thought she was prettiest when she was talking about her books because of the way her eyes sparkled.
Apparently, Elijah agreed. “Uh, yeah. I hate to say this, man, but she’s way out of your league. This girl has class.”
“For once you’ve said something I can’t argue with.” Ryland let his eyes linger on her face as one of her videos played silently on his phone.
“When do we get to meet her?”
“Funny thing about that,” Ryland said. “She’ll be here in three days.”
Elijah did a drum riff and laughed. “Wow. It’s getting serious. Bringing her to meet the family already?”
“No,” Ryland corrected him. “I’m bringing her to meet me.”
“What’s that?” Tate asked as he walked up behind him.
Of course Elijah was quick to answer. “We get to meet Ryland’s girlfriend.”
“No way,” Tate said. “When?”
Ryland ignored Elijah calling her his girlfriend and focused on Tate. “Sunday. And you’d better not screw things up by being a punk. Got it?”
Tate shrugged. “Sure, man. Whatever you want. Just remember, don’t neglect your band responsibilities.”
> Ryland clenched his jaw. “I won’t.”
Not wanting to argue about it further, Ryland walked back over to the piano and sat down. His brothers moved over to their instruments too, even though the crew was busy working on lining up the next shot.
Ryland began playing a ballad from their new album—one he’d written himself. It had been inspired by a friend’s breakups. It was titled “Empty Arms” and had a deep, haunting melody that resonated through his whole body and transitioned into a desperate scream of the soul.
Tate and Elijah came in on their cues just as if they were actually performing it, and the song soared, filling the damp, cob-webbed corners of the warehouse. Ryland sang the lyrics with a gut-burning sincerity that he’d never felt before as the certainty swept-through him that all his worries were driven by how much he hated being alone.
“Don’t leave my arms empty. My soul broken. My heart dying because it only beats for you. Only for you.”
The last notes died away, fading into a stillness unnatural for the size of the crew around them. But every person there stood as if shell-shocked. Ryland glanced around warily, feeling exposed and hollow.
Elijah shuffled his drumsticks, breaking the deafening silence.
The director spoke first. “Frank, for the love of all that’s holy, please tell me you got that.”
Frank, the camera man, nodded. “I just missed the very beginning.”
Clapping his hands, the director spun around to face the whole crew. “Okay, folks. I know it’s been a long afternoon, but brace yourselves. We’ve been filming the wrong video. Let’s get a spotlight on Ryland. Let’s take it from the top.”
While they shuffled around, Ryland sent Julie a text. He was going to pick her up at the airport and take her to her convention. He had to see her as soon as possible.
Chapter Seven
“Doing okay?” Gracie asked as they walked through the terminal in Atlanta.
Saved by the Rockstar (Rich and Famous Romance Book 1) Page 4