by S. K Munt
‘You’ve gone silent,’ he observed softly, reaching into the hall closet and extracting a hanger. His eyes didn’t move from hers. ‘That’s new.’
‘I’m in love with the house,’ Leigh said softly, turning away and hugging herself while her eyes drifted from the polished timber staircase, to the small living room. The structure of the dwelling was cramped, dimly lit and old-fashioned as she’d expected, but to her surprise, the moment she stepped forward a little to get out of the shallow but walled entry, she was surprised to see that the furnishings were extremely modern. The living room to her right held one L-shaped couch upholstered in smooth black velvet, the two walls she could see had been painted a pale, modern lilac and the coffee table and television unit were white lacquer and gleaming. Black curtains hung from the front window and light fell in a path across the room and to the serving bench of what had to be a kitchen. There were two white lacquer stools pulled up to the bench but Leigh doubted anyone ever sat there, because the entire bench top, which was the same wood as the staircase, was covered in tea cups, and every tea cup held a cactus. It was cool, chic and funky, and Leigh immediately began to creep forward for a closer look. ‘This has to be your taste, yeah? Because if this isn’t the room you painted, you were lying about the house being a wreck.’
Ryan chuckled as he followed her. ‘This is the room I painted, but the only thing I changed was stripping the hideous wallpaper- this was how Imogen had it. Awesome huh? She had taste. Too bad most of the other rooms are a mess still.’
‘I’ll say.’ Leigh rounded the couch and eyed the flat screen TV that was pinned to the wall between the two narrow side-windows. The curtains on either side of it were black too and drawn, probably to keep the glare off the screen, and a single white cabinet stood beneath it, with three remotes neatly lined up on its top. ‘I imagined tweed furniture and dust.’
‘Come here- I’ll show you the rest.’ Ryan took her hand in his and the charge was enough to actually halt Leigh’s heart. She squeaked and wrenched her hand free, her heart galloping off like a horse that had mis-stepped at the start of a race and Ryan’s eyes widened.
Oh my god! That could have KILLED me!
‘Whoa- what was that?’ Ryan’s brows drew together. ‘You’re not like, afraid of me, are you?’ He stepped closer and her heart began to hurt her eardrums while her injured hand curled into a ball. ‘Leigh, you don’t think I’d take advantage of you, do you? I just wanted to lead you- there are loose carpets and low ceilings and stuff everywhere…’
Leigh couldn’t believe he hadn’t felt what she just had! ‘N-no…’ she said, swallowing rapidly and wracking her brain for a normal-sounding lie to cover the fact that her physical attraction to him had become biochemical as well. ‘You didn’t feel that? You like, static-shocked me.’
Ryan glanced down at her hand, frowning more, and lifted it. ‘I felt something, but it wasn’t static. It couldn’t have hurt that bad though, right?’ He lifted her hand and coaxed her fingers open, glancing up at her with a measure of concern and amusement in his bright blue eyes. ‘Unless you’re really, REALLY delicate?’
Leigh scowled at him but then he kissed her palm and she almost moaned. Pleasure heated her skin and shot straight through her.
Oh my god! What is going on? I was fine until two minutes ago so why am I acting like a moron now? Is it because we’re alone- really alone? Or is it because he keeps giving me that damn cheeky smile? What’s that smile about, anyway?
‘You seem fine now, you must have absorbed all of my kinetic energy in one hit, so come on-’ Ryan’s fingers laced through hers and he turned away, leading her to the left of the staircase. ‘I’ll show you the room you’ll be sleeping in and the bathroom and stuff.’
Leigh nodded mutely and followed him, staring down at their interlaced fingers behind his back in absolute amazement. How had she gotten here? And how was she going to leave? She was holding hands with a man whose looks would have had Brad Pitt and Channing Tatum holding one another for comfort while sobbing jealous tears, and the more time she spent with him, the more she was discovering that aside from the whole amnesia, star-crossed lover (someone else’s) and rock-star thing, she was more at ease within his company than she had ever felt with anyone before- her parents included. In fact, the only thing that prevented her from embracing Ryan as a possible best friend and kindred spirit, was the fact that she wanted him so badly that she could barely think clearly enough in his company to ask if they could stay in contact after she went home.
He’s not the Ryan from my book, but I’m still a fan and I’ll never be able to be much more than that. Oh, he flirts, but musicians flirt with groupies, and then they forget them.
‘This is the library- it’s small, but everything here is small.’ Ryan paused at a doorway and pulled her forward, and Leigh dropped his hand and braced herself on the doorframe, afraid that if she actually stepped inside, she’d be unable to leave.
‘Wow…’ she breathed, eyes rolling about as though she’d been concussed. The books were arranged on floor to ceiling shelves- jammed in so tightly that at first glance, they resembled a print on wallpaper. ‘She has more than me!’
Ryan chuckled. ‘Well, she was more than three times your age…’
Leigh nodded, feeling her eyes well up in appreciation. The room really was small- about as big as the tiny spare room at her house, but she knew there were well over four thousand books on those shelves. And not just on the shelves either, but scattered across the solitary desk in the centre of the room, and a few others in stacks on the floors. Leigh pushed her glasses higher on her nose and leaned in, scanning the titles and realised that Imogen’s taste in literature was as eclectic as the interior of the house- a few titles were just over a month old, and others were clearly first editions from hundreds of years before. Her fingers ached to touch the spines, and to close the door between Ryan and herself and lose herself somewhere safe and familiar, but then he rested his chin on her shoulder and said: ‘You can spend as much time in here as you like... after I show you the rest of the house.’
Leigh chuckled, weakened by the breeze of his breath against her neck. ‘Then you probably should have shown me this last…’ The intimate way he was standing with her was too much for Leigh’s female parts to handle but as she moved to turn, Ryan surprised her yet again, by remaining in place- only inches from her face.
‘Do you like it so far?’ he asked, a cunning glow in his eyes as his warm hand closed around the one she’d dropped from the door once more.
Argh! He KNOWS what he’s doing to me! This is almost like a seduction, right? He’s not doing it openly, but he’s doing it! Why, God, why?
‘You know I like it,’ she eventually said back, her voice just as low. ‘The question is, why does my appreciation matter so much to you?’
The corner of his mouth sharpened upwards just enough to make her thighs clench. He’d heard the double entendre loud and clear, and was taking his time answering- torturing her. He shrugged and turned away, towing her once more. ‘I haven’t figured that out yet. There’s just something about you that makes me…’ his voice trailed off, and Leigh’s eyes narrowed as she filled in the blank using the words he’d uttered earlier.
‘Blush like police lights…?’ she prompted, scowling. ‘Oh wait no… that’s me.’
Ryan’s hand went limp and he glanced back at her, eyebrows up. ‘You heard that?’
Leigh tapped her glasses. ‘I’m impaired here-’ she tugged on her earlobe next. ‘Not here.’
Ryan pulled her forward to another door and then wrapped the long fingers of his free hand around the knob but waited until she was facing him to respond. ‘Are you annoyed with me for saying that, or yourself, for doing it?’
‘Both,’ she responded tartly as he opened the door and pulled her into a small bedroom. ‘I hate the fact that you’re cute enough to make me forget what a jerk you can be. And I hate the fact that you like it just enough to get a swo
llen ego-’
‘Oh, it’s not just the ego that swells. But I already told you that last night, didn’t I?’ Ryan asked archly, letting her hand go and turning to lean against a timber bureau. He folded his arms across his body and locked his eyes on hers boldly. ‘And you told me to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.’
Leigh rested her hips and smirked at him. ‘Which you did, twenty minutes later on a different floor at my hotel- with the kind of girl who’d never be caught dead in glasses or a polka dot dress.’
Ryan’s eyes flared with surprise and embarrassment and she enjoyed it immensely. ‘Why encourage me to leave with her, if you were only going to hold it against me?’
‘I’m not holding it against you,’ Leigh managed to say evenly, gazing around the room and trying to look non-plussed. ‘I just think trying to flirt with two girls in the space of twelve hours is a little greedy.’
‘So you think I’m a man-whore again?’ Ryan asked, his eyes darkening unhappily.
‘I just think we have different values,’ Leigh said carefully, sliding her gaze to his and smiling faintly. She could tell that he was offended by what he’d imagined she was implying, but just because she was okay with the idea of him treating other women lightly, didn’t mean that she was going to encourage him to think he could pull that sort of stunt on her. Besides, she was so jealous that she felt like she’d swallowed the other woman’s cloud of hair and it was now tangled up in her intestines- and she didn’t want Ryan to know that. ‘That’s fine Ryan and I don’t judge you. I just can’t…’ she exhaled heavily and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘Flirting with me is just pointless, you know?’ She ran her fingers over the soft quilt beneath her, and understood that they were in the guest bedroom- the room that Imogen had occupied when she’d grown too ill to make it up the stairs. All of the furniture was a plain, pretty timber, and the curtains and bedding were a pale blue cotton that looked soft and cool. The room was neat, but aside from a few books on the low bookshelf, the print of a girl playing a harp against a tower of hay, and an old-fashioned quilt folded on the end of the bed- the room was devoid of character, and it sort of reminded Leigh of her room back home. Every other room in her house showed her personality, but her bedroom was simple, soft and unassuming.
Is that because we’re readers? Do Imogen and I keep our bedrooms threadbare, so that we can live vicariously through our heroine’s without being distracted by our true, underwhelming selves?
‘Is this where I’ll be staying?’ she asked, cutting him off before he could summon up a response, and it looked like he was pondering a pretty mean one.
Ryan pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow before responding: ‘Evidently. But if you don’t like it, I have other places you could sleep.’ He wriggled both eyebrows. ‘Once I shower off the one night stand, of course.’
She laughed. ‘That’s a yes then, and thank you- this room is perfect. Though, I do have this fantasy about curling up in front of the fireplace- don’t suppose you have one of those bearskin rugs, do you?’
‘No, sorry- we’re all out of grizzly,’ he held his hand out to her, ‘would you like to see the fireplace now- friend? If you like that room better, you’re welcome to sleep there.’
Leigh took his hand and allowed him to pull her up, excited. ‘Absolutely, I like that painting there though…’ she glanced back at it over her shoulder as Ryan pulled her from the room. ‘It’s beautifully done.’
‘I know- it’s a real painting too, not a print. I used to come in here and read to Imogen sometimes when she was too tired, and I’d always end up staring at it.’ Ryan led her down the hall, pausing by an open bathroom door to show her where she’d be able to wash up. The room was in a much worse state than the others- the claw-footed tub had rust stains in places and the faucets were tiny and stiff. The small window was stained from years of having sat coated with dust, and the toilet had an old-fashioned pull-chain, but it was still beautiful in its own way and clean, with fluffy, pale blue towels to match her room.
It’s too much! Just… how do people have this? How do I get one?
Leigh shook her head as Ryan guided her up the stairs, pausing twice more to show her the upstairs bathroom, the study that had been converted into a bit of a music room for Ryan, and a nursery that was so old and faded that the first baby to have slept in there must have been long dead after living to ninety. It was bare, save for a few sun-stained silhouettes of letters and rattles and balls on the walls, when Ryan attempted to close the door once they were back in the hallway, Leigh’s eyes were watering from the threat of a sneezing attack and the door had to be jammed closed.
‘There are five rooms like this,’ he said, leading her back past the landing and towards the opposite end of the house. ‘Imogen never had any use for them, and I think the house sat empty for a few years before she bought it, so she just shut the doors and let them sort of deteriorate in privacy. That’s what I meant when I said that I have a lot of work to do.’
‘Her husband never tried to fix them up?’ Leigh asked.
‘No. Her husband never saw this place- she bought it with his pension after he was gone, and had only been here for about two years before I came along. I think maybe she hoped to make it a bed and breakfast one day, but then she got cancer and…’ Ryan’s voice faded under the shadow of the few memories he had, and Leigh swallowed when he opened another door, thinking of how desperately he needed someone- anyone- to enfold him into any sort of life. Leigh wanted to be that person for him, but it was a ridiculous dream. It would take her over a year to get a green card and without any identification papers; she knew that Ryan was stranded in Canada indefinitely. He’d mentioned that he couldn’t even get a library card, let alone a passport! The only reason why he’d managed to inherit from Imogen at all was because she’d transferred everything into her sister’s name and she’d opened an account for Ryan from Greece.
There’s no hope, so stop daydreaming as though there is!
‘The house is gorgeous,’ Leigh said softly. ‘If Imogen’s sister signs off on the deed when you get a birth certificate of your own, I think you should do that; turn it into a bed and breakfast. I mean, it’s too big for one person, and too beautiful to sell.’
‘I’ve considered that. I only worry about how much having guests will affect my practice time, you know?’ Ryan put his hand on another door and grinned back at her. ‘Ready to see your fireplace, honey?’ Leigh nodded eagerly. ‘Great, you’re gonna love it- I know it.’
I know it too! Weird that it’s upstairs though! Don’t these places usually have them in the main rooms on the lowest floor? Oh well, a fireplace is a fireplace and I don’t care about having to climb steps to get to it- I’ll skip up here!
Ryan opened the door and turned and scooped her waist with his arm, propelling her through and Leigh’s mouth opened wide when she saw the fireplace immediately- it was almost as tall as her and set into a brick wall that had a mantle and everything. She shivered with delicious anticipation and hurried forward, hugging herself as she approached the sooty, yawning mouth and fell to her knees in front of it, already feeling the flames dancing within.
‘Wow oh wow!’ she exclaimed, leaning over to gently touch one of the charred logs set behind the small wrought iron barrier. ‘Ryan this is HUGE! Oh my god! I believe in Santa again!’
Ryan laughed. ‘I know, right?’ he asked from behind her. ‘I must have looked as excited as you do now when I first saw it, because Imogen pronounced that I couldn’t have spent much time in a cold climate like this one, to get worked up over something that’s so fundamentally normal here.’
‘It’s hot where I come from,’ Leigh agreed, holding out her hands and imagining heat. ‘Even when it’s cold- it’s hot. Never stopped me from wanting one of these, though!’
Ryan chuckled. ‘Well I’m glad you like it. Between the look on your face now and the way you just went for that squirrel, I’m feeling a lot more normal. There’s one do
wnstairs too in the living room, but we can’t use it until I get some of the bricks repaired because it’s not structurally sound...’
‘Ahhh…’ Leigh got to her feet, grinning down at the silver and soot-stained fire poker resting against the faced. ‘I was wondering about that.’
‘Yeah. It’s identical- just useless at the moment.’ Ryan cleared his throat. ‘And you’re welcome to spend as much time in here as you’d like. Every second, if you want.’
‘I will!’ Leigh’s eyes followed the brick wall to another, which was covered in a faded, midnight blue wallpaper with silver designs embossed onto the surface. It was actually pretty, compared to the few wallpapered rooms she’d seen back home, done in oranges and lime greens. ‘I can’t imagine that you’ll be able to drag me out…’ her words died as she twisted to see a gigantic, wrought iron four-poster bed planted in the middle of the room, directly across from the fireplace. It was covered with a midnight blue comforter, folded down over black satin sheets and laden with multitudes of matching pillows. Her gaze lifted from the midnight blue curtains hanging from each post, to the silver chandelier above her head, and she heard her heartbeat begin to thrum in her ears at the realisation that she was in Ryan’s lair, one of satin and seduction. Even the air smelt like him- a hint of spearmint, leather and incense. Convinced that she’d just imagined more innuendo than any virgin could be expected to handle, Leigh turned to assess her new ‘friend’s’ face, and the sly, though somehow shy smile curving his lips made the blood drain from her face to the place he clearly counted on it going.