He didn’t take it and looked at Emily in disbelief. “He’s kidding, right? It can’t be him. He wouldn’t be sitting here with us.”
Emily smiled and gently caressed his head. “He’s not kidding.”
Jamie suddenly stood up and started hopping from foot to foot, shouting, “Oh my God! You really are Ryan Wilder. You—”
Jesus, I’d forgotten how loud children could be.
“Keep it down, Jamie. Trust me, you don’t want everyone to find out who I am and swarm us, asking for an autograph.”
Fortunately he stopped and, scratching his head, asked, “But will you give me one?”
“I don’t have a photo on me.” I didn’t want to disappoint him, but it was the honest truth.
He sat back down on the sand, rifled through his rucksack and brought out a notebook. “Will you sign your name here?” He pointed at a page, which was mostly blank, save for a small red spot.
I went to ask him what it was, but he preempted me.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little blood,” he said, bristling like a peacock. “I spilled a drop on the page in school, while I was measuring my blood sugar.”
I countered, copying exactly his swaggering style. “We musicians aren’t afraid of anything.”
The child laughed. I took the notebook and the pen he passed me and wrote: To Jamie – with my personal regards – Ryan Wilder
“Wow… Cool.” His smile couldn’t get any wider. “Now the whole school will be jealous of me.”
I had no doubt he was right. “If you want, when you come to the restaurant with your mother—so we can talk about getting her that job—I’ll give you a picture, with all members of Blackstone.”
To be honest, I didn’t need any new wait staff. But Jamie clearly meant a lot to Emily.
While we were talking, ominous, grey clouds appeared, and then it started raining. We jumped up from the sand, and I took Emily’s hand as the three of us ran to find shelter. We were soaked to the bone when we finally entered Wild Angels.
Jamie looked around the place, which was famous as the most exclusive joint in Florida, while I stared at Emily’s wet top, which now hugged her body and revealed her nipples. If she were in a wet T-shirt contest, she’d surely win.
I wanted to lean in and suck on her erect tips.
Hard.
Drops gleamed on her tight skin. Even with rain-flattened hair, she was perfect. Nothing could mar her beautiful features.
Our eyes locked, and I couldn’t resist. I raised my hands and cupped her cheeks. When my body touched hers, she trembled. I burned with the desire to tear her clothes off and lose myself in her.
God, I wanted her so much.
Her lips parted, and her breathing became fitful, synchronizing itself with mine. I leaned in and was just about to kiss her when my fucking cell phone rang. I decided to ignore it, but it wouldn’t stop ringing.
The magical moment passed.
She pulled away from me, looking confused. “Aren’t you gonna answer that?”
Deeply disappointed, I accepted the call without checking the display. It was Benjamin, one of the boys from the band, letting me know we needed to re-record our latest piece in the music studio—now. The process would last hours.
I sighed. I wanted to spend more time with Emily.
But I knew I should stay away from her. She was too pure to be dragged into the darkness I was trapped in.
I finished the call and said goodbye to her and Jamie as I slipped off to the studio.
4
Ryan
It was 10 pm when I finally returned to the club. We’d finished the recording session, and I wanted to pick up some documents from my office, which I intended to review at home. I nodded at the security guards and continued down the corridor. As I was turning right on the way to the elevators, I noticed a couple making out. The man had the chick against the wall and was intensely showing her his skills.
Normally I wouldn’t have bothered gawking, but for some reason this time I took a closer look. It turned out the dude was none other than Travis. The girl was another one of our dancers. She was moaning so loud even a deaf man would’ve heard her.
How did that bastard dare do this to Emily? Instead of appreciating her, he was cheating on her and not even making an effort to hide it.
I charged at him and grabbed him by his shirt collar. “Motherfucker, I’m going to kick the shit out of you.” My fist connected with his jaw and then his ribs.
The chick started to scream like she’d lost her mind. I thought I had a powerful voice, but this girl definitely had me beat on all counts. She was screaming so loud, I worried she’d burst my eardrums.
Just after I wrestled Travis to the ground, security guards came over to pull us apart. If they hadn’t, I would’ve wiped the floor with him.
“What’s up with you, man? Is she your girl?” Travis’ nose was bleeding, his eyebrow was split, and he’d have a black eye tomorrow.
Nobody had yet managed to come out on top in a fight with me. I’d learned how to defend myself a long time ago.
“You bastard, how do you dare do that to her?” I could barely keep myself from pouncing on him again.
He could not have looked any more confused. “Ryan, for God’s sake! Who are you talking about?”
“Emily, you dumb fuck. Don’t pretend you don’t understand.” The security guards held me back, and I was thankful. If I’d beat the shit out of Travis, he might bring charges against me, and that wouldn’t be good for business.
“If you think Emily Delon is my girlfriend, you’re dead wrong. She doesn’t let anyone get close to her. She’s built a fort with huge gates and doesn’t let anyone in.”
What fort and gates was this fool talking about?
I hoped he hadn’t lost his marbles from the blows I’d landed on him. When I saw red, I could kill a man. That’s why nobody dared fuck with me.
“She and I are just friends. We share an apartment, but I’m not sleeping with her,” Travis said, spitting blood from his mouth.
Fuck, my short temper had played a bad joke on me again. I needed to sort out the mess I’d created, but I couldn’t stop smiling.
Travis and Emily weren’t an item.
The road to her was clear.
All I had to do was play my cards right.
For a start, it was imperative I smooth over this mess with her roommate.
I told the chick to leave us alone, and once she’d cleared off, I turned to Travis. “Then why do you act like you’re together?”
He bristled again. “We don’t. Her hugging and kissing me on the cheek means nothing. She sees me as a brother.” Blood trickled from his eyebrow.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I attacked you, pal. But I had the impression you two were going out. So when I saw you making out with that one, I just lost it. You get it, right?”
He nodded. My security guards let go of him.
“Now let me take you to a hospital. You need stitches for that.” I pointed at his eyebrow.
Travis nodded and followed me. I knew he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut about the incident between us. But I didn’t trust the chick he’d been kissing to do the same. She’d most likely tell someone. And people would start talking. Still, I didn’t give a damn.
All I cared about was Emily.
5
Emily
The Wild Angels nightclub was famous for its extravagant parties. Well-known actors, singers, politicians, and businessmen were always invited to the big events, and part of the earnings were given to charitable causes.
The building that housed the club also held Blackstone’s music studio. Occasionally, I ran into the boys from the group when they came to rehearse. They turned out to be quite decent and never acted superior in the slightest. In a very short span of time, I collected autographs from several of them, which I gave to Jamie.
My job at Wild Angels was extremely exciting. I was worki
ng with one of the most famous choreographers in America—Steph Dellow. My coworkers were great, and the pay was higher than I’d ever imagined. Then add Ryan Wilder to the mix, and I can safely admit I was flying high in the clouds. I couldn’t believe my sheer luck.
When I found out about the fight between my boss and Travis, I was furious. I didn’t know why men tried to solve their problems through fighting. When Travis told me he would’ve reacted the same way, I decided I’d never truly understand the nature of men.
I stopped agonizing over what had happened, but after that I did my best to avoid Ryan Wilder. He was dangerous to my heart and therefore a no-go zone for me.
* * *
On Saturday afternoon, I was cleaning the bathroom at the apartment when my phone started vibrating on the shelf. I assumed it was Misty, my roommate who’d gone grocery shopping.
“If you don’t come back soon to help me with the cleaning, I’ll have definitely fainted by the toilet from lack of oxygen,” I said by way of greeting. “I’m not kidding. This damn detergent smells so strong I wouldn’t be surprised if it gave me asthma. I’ve decided to call the manufacturer and complain that they sell life-threatening cleaning products.”
I took a breath and heard a man’s laughter, which passed through me like a wave.
Shit!
It couldn’t be him…
“I haven’t heard of anyone dying from bathroom cleaner, but if you feel you’re in danger, stop cleaning—and I mean right away,” he said. “Take that as an order.”
No, that voice couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else’s. “Um…Ryan?”
“The very same. Have you done what I told you to?”
I came out of the bathroom and closed the door behind me. Leaning back on it, I asked, “Is there some kind of a problem?” Why else would he call me, and on a Saturday at that?
I felt my cheeks heat and swore that from now on, I’d always check the display first to see who was calling.
“No, no problem at all. Will you please buzz me in? I’m waiting downstairs and don’t want to risk anyone recognizing me.”
Good heavens. He couldn’t have come at a worse time. Not only was I dressed horribly in ripped leggings and an old T-shirt, but I also had rollers in my hair. I looked like someone’s granny. All that was missing was a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.
I pressed the button to open the front door for him and dashed to the bedroom. Never in my life have I changed clothes so quickly. I wiggled out of the rags and slipped on a white sundress.
I’d just started to take the rollers out as fast as I could when the doorbell rang.
Brushing my hair, I shouted, “Just a sec.”
Why had he come all the way here? Was he going to fire me? That didn’t seem right. If he were, he wouldn’t have laughed at the nonsense spilling from my mouth.
I was so flustered my hands were shaking. I sprayed on some perfume and, before opening the door for him, took several deep gulps of air. I reminded myself to act as naturally as possible.
But of course I failed.
Dressed in a pale grey T-shirt and worn jeans, Ryan Wilder was sexy as hell. His hair was messy, as always, and his face was lit up by a faint smile. His arms covered in tattoos, he looked like a bad boy women should be careful about—especially girls like me, who had no experience with men. He radiated an impressive masculinity and power that distinguished him from mere mortals. It was absolutely impossible to remain immune to his charms.
“The wait was worth it,” he said. “You look gorgeous. May I come in?”
I took two steps back, blushing like a schoolgirl. Why did this man have such an effect on me? He embarrassed me, making me forget all my manners and behave like an airhead.
He walked around the living room while I stood staring at him, at a loss for words. He was unlikely to have come simply to see where I lived.
I cleared my throat and mumbled, “Would you like something to drink?”
He turned back to me and our eyes met. God…he was handsome.
“No, thanks. Where’s your bedroom?”
Bedroom…
He clearly read the embarrassment on my face because he quickly added, “Sorry—just curious. I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here, so I’ll get right to it. I want to invite you to lunch.” He smiled, making my heart skip a few beats.
The silence lasted longer than I’d intended, but I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I finally managed. He was my boss, and I was, to put it mildly, extremely attracted to him.
Ryan didn’t like my answer. “Come on, Emily. I’m not that scary. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you trying to avoid me the past couple of weeks. I have to admit, I tried to avoid you too, but, well, it didn’t work. Which is why I’m trying a new approach. I’m asking you to lunch because I want to get to know you, and I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
Nothing wrong… So why did I feel like little red riding hood who’d just met the big, bad wolf getting ready to eat her? I was definitely afraid of being eaten by this wolf.
Since Ryan had entered the apartment, my cat, Kitty, had been circling him and rubbing up against his legs. Annoyed by his lack of interest, she now started climbing up his pants. She meowed, and he looked at her in amusement.
“What the hell is this cat trying to do?” he exclaimed, pulling her off his jeans. In his big hands, Kitty seemed even smaller.
“She wants attention. I recommend you pet her. Otherwise, she might get back at you by pissing in your shoes some day. A friend of mine—”
“I don’t want to hear about your exes, Emily Delon,” he said, sounding quite annoyed.
Did I detect a hint of jealousy?
He dropped Kitty on the floor as if she was radioactive, and at the same instant, the front door opened and in came Misty, carrying huge bags of groceries. She wore yoga pants and a pink T-shirt. Her thick, light brown hair was tied in a ponytail.
A few disobedient strands had fallen across her face, and she tried to blow them aside. Upon seeing Ryan, she seemed to go into shock and dropped the bags on the floor.
“Fuck me… The eggs! Um… Shit, that’s not what I meant to say. Um… Mr. Wilder… Hello. How are you?”
Clearly I wasn’t the only one who lost my senses in Ryan’s presence. I’d never heard Misty stutter before.
However, unlike me, my friend gathered her wits very quickly and added, “I’m sorry, Mr. Wilder—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” he told her. “I came over to take Emily to lunch.” Ryan turned to me, taking my hand. “You don’t need a handbag. I’ll take you back whenever you want.” Then he pulled me toward the front door.
I hadn’t even agreed to this. But I couldn’t deny that I liked his behavior—like a domineering boyfriend.
Still dumbstruck, I turned to wave bye to Misty.
She gave me a look as if to say, Don’t think you’ll get away with this. I want every last detail!
6
Ryan
The restaurant where I took Emily for lunch was owned by a very good friend of mine. Of course, I could’ve taken her to Wild Angels, but didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable in front of her coworkers. Also, I didn’t want my employees to whisper behind my back and come up with plots worthy of a soap opera.
I had no idea how our date would go. I hadn’t asked a girl out since I was eighteen. Ever since Blackstone became a famous rock group, the invitations always came from the female side.
At first, the conversation didn’t go too well. Emily seemed embarrassed and, to be honest, I didn’t feel particularly comfortable either. But after the waiter brought our order and, more important, after the first glass of wine, sweet Miss Delon relaxed and the conversation started flowing smoothly.
Noticing she’d ordered a non-meat dish, I decided to tease her. “Out of this huge choice of steaks, you chose the risotto. You’re a vegetarian, am I right?”
She
gave me an annoyed look. “What’s wrong with that? People should be careful about their cholesterol levels.”
I laughed. “You’re too young to have high cholesterol. I’m sure the reason you’re vegetarian is you love animals too much. I’m guessing you look after your kitten as if it’s your flesh and blood.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s just a wild guess.”
I rested my elbows on the table. “Come on, honey. Admit it. You can’t eat meat because whenever you see a chop, you picture a small lamb, running to and fro, baaing and wagging its tail.”
Thankfully, my mission finally succeeded—I made her laugh. The sound of her laughter washed over me like a hot wave. “Stop. You should be more loving toward animals.”
“Who said I don’t love them? Still, that doesn’t mean I’d be able to turn down a nice juicy steak. Now eat, your food will go cold.” I poured water in her glass. Her eyes were locked on me the entire time. “What is it?”
“You really like giving orders, don’t you?” she asked rhetorically, but resumed eating.
She couldn’t imagine how close she was to the truth.
We started reminiscing about our childhoods. I told her about growing up in New York and how my mother had had to work two jobs to make ends meet, but studiously avoided mentioning my father. She’d definitely already read in the tabloids that I’d grown up in poverty, but I wanted her to hear it from my own mouth.
It turned out she’d also spent her early years in New York with her mother. Then, her little brother and she had moved to France to live with their grandparents.
“Are you in regular contact with your mother?” I asked, wanting to find out everything about her. I expected her to open the door and let me in. But I knew she wouldn’t make it easy for me.
“No,” she replied quietly, looking out of the window, but I managed to hear her.