Thinking about flying made me remember the first time I’d been on a plane. After I’d walked out on Ryan. A thousand sharp icicles pierced my heart, and I nearly doubled over from the pain of it all.
I found my brothers waiting for me next to the computerized ticketing station of our airline. They all looked at me warily, most likely not sure what I would say or do. I hadn’t talked to them since the vote at Fitz’s apartment, when they’d tried to help me see the reality of my situation.
Better to admit to the truth up-front than let this thing drag out. I set my Martin guitar case down. “You guys were right. I messed up and was a total idiot with Ryan.”
All three of them grinned in unison.
“You should apologize to him,” Parker said. “Someplace private where none of us will be forced to watch.”
“Yes. I don’t want to see Maisy groveling,” Fitz agreed, putting his arm around me.
Parker nodded. “There is something fundamentally weird about that image.”
“You guys are crazy,” Cole interrupted their exchange. “I’d pay good money to see Maisy publicly admit she was actually wrong about something.”
I punched him in his arm, and he pretended to be wounded before winking at me.
“Come on,” Parker said. “Let’s get this new tour started. Tickets are this way.”
“So are you going to apologize to him?” Fitz asked me, keeping me close to his side as we followed our brothers.
“I already did. I texted him. He didn’t answer. So I guess that’s it, then. Chalk it up to a learning experience and move on. Right?”
Fitz looked thoughtful. “That surprises me. That doesn’t seem like something Ryan would do.”
I shrugged one shoulder to indicate he already had done it. “At least I’ll always have you guys.”
“You’ll always have us,” he agreed, but his voice sounded distant. Like he was thinking about something more important than this conversation. I saw Piper walking across the terminal, hips swaying as she smiled and waved at us. Fitz smiled lovingly, dropped his luggage, and ran across the airport. When he reached her, he picked her up and swung her around in a circle. Piper threw her head back and laughed before settling in to kiss him hello.
I did have my brothers and the band. For now.
But how long would that last?
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Why can’t I get this chord change? What’s wrong with me?” I asked.
“Hang on,” Cole replied, jumping up. “I gotta get my list.”
I laughed as he ran out of the room. We’d been on tour with Many Maus for about two weeks and were currently staying in an adorable bed-and-breakfast in the heart of Amsterdam. It was a beautiful city, with old buildings lining waterways and cobblestone sidewalks. Sunlight beamed in through the open wooden shutters, lighting up the entire third floor.
Parker walked past my room while reading his phone. “Did you guys see this review? The actual music critic liked us, but the commenters are vicious.”
“Don’t let the trolls win,” I called after him. It was something else I’d figured out recently. I’d been so reluctant at every step of my relationship with Ryan because of my parents and my fears of what I felt for him both physically and emotionally. But those internet voices? The ones who disparaged me and said we’d never work, the same ones I’d claimed I didn’t care about and didn’t listen to? I did care, and I did listen. I let total strangers make me doubt myself and doubt Ryan.
Never again.
“Hey, Cole?” I heard Fitz call from another room. “Remember we have that thing right now. You coming?”
Thing? My brothers hadn’t mentioned any plans.
“Yeah,” Cole replied. “Give me a second and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Before I could ask where they were going, Fitz and Parker left. Cole stuck his head in my room and said, “The only thing wrong with you is that you gave up on love too quickly.”
Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one who’d texted Ryan and never heard back from him again.
“And, uh, stay here. Don’t go anywhere.”
Before I could ask Cole why he’d said that, he was already gone. Weirdo.
I tried to make the quick change again on my Fender but finally gave up and set it down on the bed. I wondered where Ryan was now. He had been at a fund-raiser in LA last night. I’d continued doing my best Luna-tic impersonation and spent most of my free time stalking him online. Still wondering why he didn’t respond to my texts.
Maybe he was dating CeCe again, and he would be a happy little family with Thomas. That image made me feel queasy.
But I also knew I could have loved Thomas. Just like my mom took Cole in, I would have adored Thomas because he was Ryan’s son.
I wished I could tell him that.
Given that I had the place to myself, I decided to take a nap. I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes.
I heard music coming from outside. That wasn’t all that strange; there were often performance artists on the sidewalks, busking.
The strange thing was that I recognized the tune.
And the voice.
My pulse hammered as I ran over to the open window and looked outside.
Ryan was there. Singing the same song to me that my mother had when I was a little girl.
He was Lloyd Dobler-ing me.
There is a flower within my heart
Maisy, Maisy
Planted one day by a glancing dart
Planted by Maisy Ell
Whether she loves me or loves me not
Sometimes it’s hard to tell
Yet I am longing to share the lot
Of beautiful Maisy Ell
Maisy, Maisy, give me your answer do
I’m half-crazy all for the love of you
It won’t be a stylish marriage
I can’t afford a carriage
But you’ll look sweet upon the seat
Of a bicycle built for two.
He sang the song while leaning against an actual tandem bicycle that was locked up to the fence.
The man I loved was serenading me. I wanted to fall at his feet and beg for his forgiveness. I wasn’t worthy of his song.
I couldn’t believe he was here. Singing to me. The crowd of people who had gathered around him applauded when he finished, and some of them even tried to give him some cash. I wanted to laugh as he politely refused.
“What are you doing?” I yelled down at him. My heart was in my throat, making me feel like I was going to choke. This had to be good, right? Had he finally found a way to forgive me?
“Can I come up?”
That was probably a smart move, considering how many people had stopped to take his picture or film him.
Not to mention I wanted him to come upstairs more than I wanted my next breath or my next heartbeat. “Yes! Take the stairs up to the top floor!”
My hair was in a bun, my face scrubbed clean. I so wished I was wearing something besides yoga pants and a tank top.
He knocked on the door and on my heart at the same time. I opened both to him and whatever he had to say.
“Hi.” Just hearing his voice again was enough to make me swoon.
“Hi. Come in.” I let him into our small sitting room. Like my brothers, he had to duck from the roof eaves on this level. I sat down on the tiny love seat, and Ryan sat across from me in a 1960s-style orange armchair, setting his guitar on the floor.
I greedily drank in the sight of him. He looked a little thinner, tired. Stubble lined his face; his hair was tousled. But he was still the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on.
Then it occurred to me how truly impossible it was for him to be here at this moment. “You were in Los Angeles last night.”
“I was.”
“Then how are you here now?”
He rubbed his jaw. “After the fund-raiser, I got on a red-eye to come here and see you.”
It was a fifteen-hour flight. A pang of l
ove and disbelief hit me hard, and I put a hand on my chest. “You got on a plane for me?”
“I did. Some noise-canceling headphones, a sleeping mask, and heavy sedatives were involved.”
He was too good. Too amazing. I didn’t deserve any of this. I started to cry. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”
In seconds he was on his feet, pulling me up from the love seat. He held me tight, and his embrace felt every bit as good, as right, as I remembered. He rubbed my back, laying his head on top of mine, soothing me.
“I was such an idiot,” I said in between sobs. “I completely overreacted and ruined everything. I’ll never forgive myself.”
“You have to forgive yourself because I already did. A long time ago.”
I pulled back. His face looked blurry through my tears. “Then why didn’t you answer my texts?”
“I didn’t find out about those until Angie told me at my release party. After you left in New York, I sort of threw my phone against the sidewalk and left it. When I went back to get it, it was gone. So I had to get a new phone, and my security team made me get a new number. Just in case. I never got your texts.”
Blinking hard, I tried to process what he was saying. “But your release party was two weeks ago.”
He ran one hand through his hair. “This was the first opening in my schedule, and I wanted to come say what I needed to say to you in person. It wasn’t textable. I have to tell you about Thomas.”
Nothing else in the world mattered as long as he was here, holding me. “I will love Thomas. He’s a part of you.”
“Not in the way you think. Thomas isn’t my son. He’s my brother.”
Not his son? His brother? Immediately I got squicked out and wondered what was wrong with CeCe. “You mean your dad and CeCe? That’s . . . totally disgusting.”
“When she found out that my dad didn’t have any money, she came up with a plan to say Thomas was mine so I would pay child support. I think she was hoping the resemblance was strong enough that I wouldn’t question her. But I had a paternity test done.”
The resemblance had been enough that I hadn’t questioned her and put all the blame on Ryan.
For something he hadn’t even been guilty of.
“I’m so sorry,” I told him again. It felt like I couldn’t say it enough. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I should have stayed and worked things out with you, just like you asked me to. I promise I won’t ever run from you like that again.”
Ryan squeezed me tightly against him, making it impossible to breathe. I didn’t care. “There’s nothing to forgive. I love you.”
“I love you. I never stopped.”
He smelled the same. Felt the same. This was where I belonged. With him. He really was my home.
“I fired my dad.”
I lifted my head. “You did?”
“I’m going to help take care of my baby brother, but I’m tired of bailing out my dad. It’s not my responsibility to pay for his life so he can do nothing but make bad choices. He had a job before I became famous. He can get another one. I hired Dean Bruno to be my manager. He thinks the first single for my next album should be ‘Maisy.’” Dean Bruno was one of the top managers in the music industry.
Who was already employed, last I’d heard. “But wasn’t he working for . . .”
“Yes. I lured him away from Skyler Smith.”
My heart was back in my throat again. “Wouldn’t that upset your girlfriend?” Even though he’d just said he loved me, I needed to clarify where things stood.
His hand rested against the back of my neck, cradling my head. “Skyler and I didn’t date. That was all publicity. You’re the only one for me.”
“You know that makes me love you more, right?” I asked, wanting to collapse into a puddle of relief.
He kissed my forehead, and it felt like all was right in the world again. “I got you a present.” Ryan reached into his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He handed it to me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“It’s the deed to your house. I bought it from the people who bought it from you. I know how much it meant to you. I wanted your mom to have a place to come home to, in case she gets better.”
“Are you serious with this right now?” Ryan De Luna was too good to be true.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart.”
“How can I not cry? You’re amazing, and I suck.”
“You’re amazing, too. I wouldn’t love a sucky person.”
That made me laugh, and Ryan tenderly wiped away my tears.
“I sold my house in Gstaad to buy yours. That couple you sold to were quite the negotiators.”
He sold one of his many houses for me? “Aw. That is so . . . stupid that you had a house in a place with a name like Gstaad.”
Now it was Ryan’s turn to laugh.
“But seriously? Thank you. This means everything to me.”
“You’re welcome. And I have another present for you.” Had I imagined it, or had his voice just wobbled?
He let go of me and this time reached into his front pocket.
He pulled out a tiny box that could hold only one possible thing.
I covered my mouth with my hands. “I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”
Ryan got down on one knee, opening the box. “Didn’t you ever listen to the lyrics of ‘Daisy’ before? It’s a proposal song. I’m proposing to you. Be my wife, Maisy. I love you, and I don’t want to live without you. These last few months have been among the worst of my entire life. I don’t want another day to go by without you in it.”
My mouth just hung open. I was unable to take in the enormity of what was going on. I didn’t know anything about diamonds, but it was huge, glittery, and gorgeous.
“This isn’t a fake engagement, is it?”
He grinned. “Not fake. It was never fake for me, Maisy. With you it was always real.”
Would I ever stop crying today?
“Also,” Ryan added, “I can absolutely afford a carriage. A stylish marriage, if that’s what you want.”
“I can’t believe you’re proposing to me while I look like this.”
“I think you look hot. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
Okay, that was not true, considering the crowd he ran with, but I figured being in love might have skewed his perception. Which worked for me.
“That diamond is so big,” I said as Ryan took it out and put it on my finger. “Maybe too big.”
“Said no woman ever,” he teased. “I actually considered some larger diamonds, but I didn’t want it to weigh down your hand while you’re playing. Because I want you to keep pursuing your dreams and your music. I don’t want marriage to mean an end to either your or my goals. We’ll figure out a way to make it all work. But I also want the whole world to know that you’re mine. So I got something reasonable.”
I held my hand aloft, letting the diamond sparkle in the sunlight. It was light. I wouldn’t have any troubles playing. But reasonable? “It’s not reasonable. As I once said, I’m not selfish enough to deny you the pleasure of giving it to me.”
Voices came up to the window from the sidewalk. They were calling our names. We walked over to see my three brothers standing there, smiling up at me. Those jerks had known what Ryan had planned and been in on it.
I had never loved them more.
“Are you done?”
“Did she say yes?”
“Are you our new brother?”
Ryan turned to me, resting his hands on my hips. “I know Rule #1 is to never date a musician. But what about marrying one?”
I put my arms around his neck and grinned. “You already know the answer.”
THE MUSIC OF #MOONSTRUCK
You can check out the music video for "One More Night" at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5XPquxeTF2s
You can check out the music video for "Maisy" at:
https://www.youtube.co
m/watch?v=qk_HWl0cy5Y
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Thank you for coming along on this journey with me! I hope you enjoyed Ryan and Maisy’s story. If you’d like to find out when I’ve written something new, make sure you sign up for my newsletter at www.sariahwilson.com. I most definitely will not spam you. (I’m happy when I send out a newsletter once a month!)
And if you feel so inclined, I’d love for you to leave a review on Amazon, Goodreads, the bathroom wall at your local watering hole, on the back of your electric bill, or anyplace you want. I would be so grateful. Thanks!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For everyone who is reading this—thank you. Thank you for your support, for your kind words, and for loving my characters as much as I do!
My biggest thank-you is to Megan Mulder, my favorite editor. I was so excited when we went out to dinner, I told you my idea for this story, and you immediately said you’d been hoping I’d do one about a musician. Thanks to the Montlake team for everything you do for me, including all that behind-the-scenes stuff I never know about (Sally, Elise, Kelsey, Kris, Jessica [I miss you!], and Le). Thank you to Charlotte Herscher, not only for pinch-hitting but also for helping #Moonstruck become about a thousand times better. Thank you to Elise, Sally, and Jill for their proofreading and editing skills. Thanks to Eileen Carey for my gorgeous cover!
A special thank-you to singer Jenny Phillips, who sat and talked with me about what it feels like to be famous and a musician.
Thank you to the musical group TREN (Taylor Miranda, Richard Williams, Eliza Smith, and Nate Young) for helping me make Maisy’s and Ryan’s songs real. Special thanks to Taylor for running point on this, and thank you for fixing the lyrics so they would go with your beautiful music!
For my children—I love and adore you. Kaleb, I miss you every day, but I’m so proud of the choice you made to serve others.
And Kevin, who takes the things I imagine and makes them into real images for my stories—I couldn’t possibly love you more than I do.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bestselling author Sariah Wilson has never jumped out of an airplane or climbed Mount Everest, and she is not a former CIA operative. She is, however, madly, passionately in love with her soul mate and is a fervent believer in happily ever afters—which is why she writes romances like the Royals of Monterra series. After growing up in Southern California as the oldest of nine (yes, nine) children, she graduated from Brigham Young University with a semi-useless degree in history. The author of #Starstruck, she currently lives with the aforementioned soul mate and their four children in Utah, along with three tiger barb fish, a cat named Tiger, and a recently departed hamster who is buried in the backyard (and has nothing at all to do with tigers). For more information, visit her at www.sariahwilson.com.
#Moonstruck_A #Lovestruck Novel Page 28