Collision Course
Page 15
“Here,” three voices chorused. Big D seemed satisfied. “Well, that’s the three worst offenders. Let’s go.”
It was odd how easy it was to forget an entire month. Stepping on the bus, I felt almost as though I had never gone home at all. Rhys was now holding my hand, which he’d never done in public before, and I felt confident and happy instead of nervous and annoyed, but apart from this, things were just the same. The bus started rolling, Rhys vanished to get lost in his music after a few minutes, and Angus went to the fridge and set a beer in front of me when he returned.
“So,” he said, and I found myself already blushing. Instead of opening the can, I simply stared at it, until I finally found the courage to ask what I’d been meaning to.
“You think I’m making a mistake?”
He sipped on his own beer and shook his head.
“Chances are you're not,” he said. “We’ll find out. Rhys has been an absolute pain to be around since you left, a fucking miserable bastard. And that after we all got used to him being so pleasant while you were hanging around. You were good for him, you know. Really good.”
“Really?” I frowned at him. Angus shrugged.
“Isn't it obvious? I mean, it was to everyone but him. He's always been one complicated son of a bitch, and we've all been used to that for a long time. And then suddenly you come along and just like that, he changes.”
Hearing that shouldn’t have been as satisfying as it was. I still hadn’t opened my can of beer, instead drumming my fingertips against it. Beer on an empty stomach didn’t seem like such a good idea to me, no matter how well Angus had meant.
“I’ll try to make it work,” I eventually told him. “It’s all going to depend on how much effort he’s willing to put into it, but I think it might work.”
“It might,” Angus agreed. “For what it’s worth, I'm rooting for you.”
Hearing that pleased me more than I was willing to admit. “Thanks,” I said.
“Yup,” he replied simply and leaned back, draining his beer.
Later I visited Rhys, in the middle of playing guitar yet again. I had wisely brought up another drink with me so he wouldn’t have to ask me to get him one. He went through his energy drinks as though they were water. It probably wasn't a very healthy habit, but anything was better for him than alcohol.
“What’s up,” he said when I entered, eyes unfocused, barely acknowledging me at all apart from these two words. I was used to it by now. Patiently, I sat down next to him, set the drink on the table and waited for him to make his way back from whatever faraway place his thoughts had gotten to. He wasn’t moving at all apart from his fingers, plucking strings and pressing on the frets.
Finally, his head turned. I was quite used to seeing him with his hair unstyled and messy by now, and found I kind of liked the look.
“I just wanted to say hi,” I clarified my reason for being there, now that I had his attention.
His right hand extended sideways and grasped mine. “Hi,” he said stupidly, smiling.
I moved a bit closer, and he sat up from his half-lying position to put his arms around me. “Still doing okay?” he wanted to know.
I gave him a sideways glance, suddenly feeling a bit shy yet again, and nodded. Despite the fact that I had had plenty of time to get used to him, that I knew him quite well by now, that we had worked out the issues between us, I was nervous. It was still a new relationship.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I semi-lied, and gave him a weak smile before deciding to clarify. “Bit scared. But okay.”
He regarded me thoughtfully for a long moment.
“You shouldn’t be scared,” he told me then. “I really…”
He left the sentence hanging as he lowered his head.
“You really what?” I raised my eyebrows at him, despite the fact that he wasn’t looking at me.
“I meant what I said,” he said eventually, glancing up at me over the rim of his glasses. “You know that, right?”
“Yes.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, trying not to be too harsh with what I was saying. “I did too. But that includes leaving again if I feel like this isn't going to work.”
His arms tightened around me.
“It’s going to work,” I heard his voice close to my ear, and then shuddered as his lips touched my temple. I hoped so much that he actually meant it. But I had faith, and that had to count for something.
“When are you coming to bed?” I muttered into his shoulder. It was getting late, and I had trouble suppressing my yawns. I wasn’t used to the traveling any more. It was taking quite a lot out of me.
“I dunno. I’m not tired yet.” The arm he had around me stroked my back in an affectionate gesture. “I won’t be too late though.”
I took that as my cue to leave him to his music, and extracted myself from his embrace. Once I stood, he pulled me back down for one more kiss, then turned back to his guitar. I left, feeling dazed.
I did decide to lay down, then discovered I couldn’t sleep just yet. So I waited, reading, hearing everyone else getting ready for bed. Finally, when I had already put my book aside and closed my eyes, Rhys joined me.
“Hey,” he whispered, and promptly pulled me close to embrace me the way I liked to be held when sleeping in the tight quarters of the bus. He’d only done that a handful of times before, usually in the middle of the night, half-asleep and in the mood for company. Now, it felt natural to settle with him like that. It felt like we might actually make this work. I was no longer terrified of pissing him off, so I'd have no trouble pointing out issues we needed to work on. Except for the grumpy morning thing, it occurred to me. I didn't think anything or anyone could manage to put Rhys in a good mood in the morning, though that wouldn't keep me from trying.
I sighed contently. Settling against him, feeling warm and secure, I drifted off to sleep.
The End
###
A young Midwestern housewife, Anne-Marie Flemming turned to erotic writing to spice up her day-to-day life. She has a passion for romance and iced tea.