Chapter Nineteen
Ruby
A week of looking over my shoulder, but Dan hasn’t reappeared. Every day I expect to see him at work or at the house but he never comes. Instead, Dan sends texts, taunting me with clever hints that he’s watching me, telling me where he’s seen me each day. Dan’s threats and my fear are enough to maintain some kind of control. Has he decided that’s enough for now?
Shuffling shifts around to fit in with recording this week means I finish later and leave work at dusk. Jax knows the situation and insists he’ll meet me after work and take me home. I want to tell him not to but a small doubt niggles. No, if Dan has backed off again, I’m sure I’ll be okay. Psychological fear was Dan’s favourite weapon and he knows how effective it is on me.
I don’t want to think about Dan. He’s the past and today I’m one step closer to my future. Another piece of my dreams just became reality: Ruby Riot is in a recording studio. My impression of recording studios comes from movies and this one is nothing like I imagined. It’s bigger and the technology is beyond my understanding. Nothing like the little place we hired to get a couple of tracks to upload to Bandcamp, the online place Ruby Riot has music for download.
The large mixing desk dominates the room and the sound engineer runs through something on a laptop screen. Will and Nate have settled themselves onto a nearby sofa taking selfies and uploading to Instagram and Facebook. Our pages have a big following since the tour and their constant updates recently make us masters of spam.
“Don’t forget to get Jax in a shot,” I say, indicating the lusted after guitarist tuning his guitar. His blonde hair has grown, falling into his face. I’m relieved that his confessions haven’t changed our relationship; but if I were at all interested in this guy, I’d be fighting off other girls who want a piece of him too. Judging by his popularity on tour, they’ll be forming an orderly queue for Jax next.
I don’t notice Jem appear as I absentmindedly compare Jax to other guys, but when I do, the reason I’m not interested in Jax is abundantly clear. The moment we look at each other, my heart skips into my mouth and I realise exactly how much I’ve missed him. Jem returns my look, eyes expressing the reality of what we are. This isn’t just about clumsy attempts to deny physical attraction; our similarities slowly bind us.
Why does he have to be Jem Jones?
He tears his gaze from mine and greets everyone in his typically gruff fashion, ensuring no special welcome for me. My stupid heart retreats back to my chest.
We spend half the morning working through the ins and outs of the studio, what we’re planning, and a couple of practice tracks. Jem’s different from on tour last month, looser than he was when I stayed with him. I haven’t seen him for almost three weeks. As Jem sends a text, I surreptitiously study him. He’s bulked up a little too and lost the edge of skinniness that hovered around his wiry frame. Aware of my scrutiny, Jem looks up, eyes shining. Has somebody rather than something breathed life back into him?
We break for lunch and this includes beer for the boys. I despair at their continued lack of thought about Jem’s situation and mutter something to them before walking away. Jem sits next to me, sinking into the brown sofa, and opens a bottle of water.
“It’s okay, Ruby. I don’t mind. Just because I’m dry, doesn’t mean I expect everyone else to be.”
“I think it’s f-ucking rude. Dickheads.”
Jem snorts. “You and your mouth.” I don’t miss his lingering look at the mouth he’s talking about. “How’s things?”
“Yeah.” I can’t say good; Dan’s made sure of that. “How’s things with you?”
“Better. But you’re not.” He drinks. “You’ve lost weight again.”
“Checking me out already?”
He sighs. “No, Ruby. Don’t start getting bitchy with me. What’s going on? Is it Dan?”
I slide a look to my bitten fingernails. “I’m fine.”
“Your singing’s shit when you’re stressed,” he remarks. “No point paying for studio time if you’re not up to par.”
I jerk my head back up and fight against launching into an unhelpful string of expletives. Of course, Jem’s concern isn’t for my welfare. I told him not to care about me, so what do I expect?
“I’m tired. Tomorrow will be better.”
“Where are you living?”
“I moved in with a couple of girls. Students.”
He tips his head to the guys. “Not them?”
“Not Jax.”
I can’t fathom the look Jem gives me. We’re not close enough to touch accidentally, but the hyper-awareness of the proximity is intensified by the memory of the night his mouth briefly touched mine.
“As long as it’s not Dan,” he says quietly and stands.
When Jem walks away, I’m pissed off by the limit of his attention. Almost trysts in hotel rooms on tour mean nothing to Jem Jones; I’m long forgotten and back to being part of his project.
****
Jem
I’m f-ucking furious. Wall-smacking furious. I rub my sore palm from where I’ve hit the exposed bricks in the small hallway between studio rooms. I’m lying to myself. Lying that my anger is the effect the Dan situation has on Ruby’s performance and not because the effect on her worries me.
Ruby’s haunted again. The girl hidden behind the mask slipped out when I talked to her at lunch. I cornered Jax and asked him to fill in the gaps. He told me about Dan’s return, his borderline stalking, and Ruby’s refusal to do anything. As far as Jax knows, she’s spoken to Dan twice and now avoids him. Jax has been picking Ruby up after work; that’s how f-ucking frightened she is.
Life in the States was a world away from Ruby Riot. I told myself the distance would help scrub Ruby from my mind; that spending so much time around her was the problem. Wrong. The chick haunts my thoughts and dreams wherever I am; and since I returned a couple of days ago, the urge to contact her has increased. Even though I surrounded myself by people and hooked up with an old friend, there was an emptiness. Those people are from the old Jem’s life and are already alien. This is what Ruby has done; she’s removing the last parts of him and pulling me into a fresher reality.
Liam was around in LA, weirdly, he’s still with Cerys, the chick from school, years back. She’s a bit of a transformation in taste after Honey, but who am I to judge? At least Bryn hasn’t joined Dylan and Liam and entered the realm of the lovelorn yet, so there’s hope for the band.
Lovelorn. Since when did the guys change from lust to love when it comes to chicks? How do they know when that shit happens? When I was still suspicious of Sky, I asked Dylan to explain exactly what he meant about ‘loving her’ but his words make no sense. To me, ‘love’ sounds like needing someone too much and that never ends well. People take from you and hurt you; and if you try to love them, they f-uck off.
Or die.
One thing Dylan said sticks uncomfortably, his words about looking into Sky’s eyes and seeing himself - his heart and soul. I’m unsure I’d go that far, but I do see something in Ruby’s eyes. It can’t be my heart because I don’t reckon I have one when it comes to emotional shit. My heart’s a muscle that pumps blood around the body, including to the part of me I normally think with when it comes to girls. That’s all. My soul? What the hell does soul mates even mean? That you both need each other so much you’re scared to leave? Makes my head spin.
A chick walks by with a coy smile thrown my way. Long legs, glossy brown hair, and a killer ass moulded into her skinny jeans, she heads to Jax. I watch in amusement as Jax ramps up his semi-star status, loudly showing her around the studio. As usual, Will and Nate have disappeared to continue their drinking at the pub round the corner, and nearby Ruby packs up her guitar. Her reaction to Jax and the girl is non-committal, but something about them bothers her because she’s frowning at the discussion Jax and the girl are having. I heard what Jax said to Ruby outside the room that night, have they acted on it? Jax doesn’t introduce the girl to us; maybe he doesn’t know her name. Ruby switches to ignoring them, until Jax announces he’s leaving, arm around the shoulders of his brown-haired goddess.
“I thought you were giving me a lift home?” asks Ruby, straightening.
“Shit. Forgot. We’re joining Will and Nate. I doubt I’ll be driving. You can come too?” suggests Jax.
“Thanks a f-ucking bunch,” she snaps. “I have a six a.m. shift, then the afternoon here. I’m not going anywhere apart from home.”
“Sorry,” says Jax but he isn’t; he’s too focused on groping the chick’s ass and kissing her eager mouth.
“I was waiting for you; now it’s getting dark! I’ll get the f-ucking bus,” mutters Ruby and grabs her bag.
“I’ll take you,” I say, happy to find an opportunity to talk to her about this crap with Dan.
Ruby’s tense shoulders relax. “You sure?”
“Yeah. It’s cool. I’m not busy tonight. How far is it?”
“Maybe twenty minutes from here. At this time, anyway.”
Ruby’s house is closer to half an hour away. The journey is polite conversation, Ruby keeping the topic on what I’ve been doing in the States and carefully steering away any questions about her. In return, I don’t answer much of what she asks. I pull my BMW up outside her small house. She’s chewing her nails and surveying the street. The happier Ruby has retreated since we last spent time alone together.
“Going to invite me in for a coffee?” I ask, switching off the engine.
“You do know that’s a euphemism for f-ucking?”
Jesus, this girl’s barriers are high again.
“Yeah, but I actually mean coffee. Decaf.”
Ruby allows me a smile. “You really have kicked every addiction, haven’t you?”
“Most. So? Do I get my decaf?”
She opens the car door and pauses. “Sure.”
Inside Ruby’s house, a girl sits in the lounge, ordinary looking chick with short brown hair clipped back at the side, curled up reading a book. She looks up at me and recognition flickers.
“Oh. I didn’t expect you to bring him home,” she says to Ruby.
“This is Kate, my housemate.”
“Hey.” I nod and she continues to gawk at me as we head to the kitchen.
“Do you ever get used to people’s reactions to you?” Ruby asks, flicking on the kettle that rests on the counter in the narrow room.
“That wasn’t a reaction. A reaction is her unable to resist my charms and wanting my attention. She didn’t give a f-uck.”
“That’s the Jem Jones I expect,” she says quietly and pulls mugs out of the cupboard. “Besides, she’s more of a boy band girl.”
“Ugh.” I pull out a dining chair and sit at the scratched wooden table.
Ruby pulls her phone out of her bag and places it on the counter before throwing her bag into the corner. “Losing your touch, Jem.”
I pull a face and she laughs. I f-ucking love it when Ruby laughs. She rakes her hair upwards and ties it into a high ponytail. “I wish this weather would break; it’s too f-ucking hot.”
I don’t listen. I stare at Ruby’s mouth, at the curve of her neck, at where her fingers trail through her hair, and I want her. There’s no room in my head for anything but Ruby, the daily obsession isn’t helped by putting myself in the situation of time alone with her again.
Does she recognise my not-so-hidden thoughts when she returns my gaze? Probably because she looks away. “I want to get changed. I’ll be back in a sec.” Ruby heads out of the kitchen.
I tap my fingers on the table. Seems Kate isn’t the only girl in the house immune to my charms. Since the night in the hotel room and after the time apart, we’re back at square one because, despite what I see when I look at her, Ruby has me at arm’s length.
Ruby’s phone buzzes with a message and I glance at the door before crossing to pick it up. Yeah, I shouldn’t but I’m worried about her.
Dan.
<We need to talk>
What the f-uck is she doing communicating with the dickhead?
I scroll back through the messages. Dan texts several times a day but she never replies. Veiled threats about waiting for her after work, or coming over to the house. Another text appears as I hold the phone.
<Where were you today? You weren’t at work.>
“What the hell are you doing?” hisses Ruby. She reappears next to me and snatches the phone.
“I could ask you the same question. What the f-uck is this?”
“None of your f-ucking business!” She lowers her voice. “I’m dealing with it.”
“It is my business. Remember, Ruby Riot’s my business.”
“Don’t pull that bullshit!” She’s trembling, cheeks pink.
“You okay?” calls Kate from the other room.
“Yeah. Differences of opinion. It’s cool. Jem’s leaving once I’ve put him straight,” calls back Ruby and closes the kitchen door. She’s changed into a short blue cotton dress covered in a cherry print. With its thin straps and barely skimming her knees, this dress reveals an uncomfortable amount of her body. She might be cooler, but the amount of Ruby’s skin on show heats my blood.
“No, I’m not leaving. Not until you tell me why you’re communicating with him.”
“I’m not! I don’t reply, do I? Or did you not get far enough with your spying to see that?”
I inhale and hold the breath, calming myself. “Change your number. He’s still in your life.”
“I said I’m dealing with it.”
“If you let him back in…”
“I won’t! Back off!” she interrupts.
“No, I won’t!”
“Are you threatening me? Because that makes you as bad as him!”
I drag my fingers into my hair. I want to take Ruby by the shoulders and shake away her stupidity. “No. I care about you.”
Shit.
Ruby crosses her arms tightly. “Don’t go there again.”
f-uck it. I might as well admit it now it’s slipped out. “It’s true. I care about you a lot.”
“Well, don’t!”
We face off, battle lines drawn again. We’re closer than I realised; I’m in Ruby’s personal space and she hasn’t backed off. The look in her eyes isn’t fear or anger, but something I recognise as easily. Confused desire. Ruby parts her lips as she looks at mine.
“f-uck, Ruby. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t do this.”
“What?”
I close the remaining space between us, but she doesn’t move. “Games. Dancing around. Holding myself back because I’m scared of hurting you. I’m not interested in your URST crap, I just want to f-ucking kiss you.”
Ruby’s breath hitches slightly and she glances at my mouth. Before she can respond, I take her face in both hands and crash my mouth onto hers. I need to feel her lips, see how she reacts, and if she pushes me away, fine. At least I’ll have snatched one kiss from the girl who has me wrapped around her finger without realising it. Ruby pulls my hands from her face and her mouth away but doesn’t move, keeping her fingers wrapped around mine. Her breath comes in short, hot bursts against my cheek and at each point our bodies touch, my senses shut down against anything but her.
“I missed you,” I whisper, lips moving against her cheek.
“Don’t, Jem,” she says hoarsely. “Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not.” I move my head back and take her face again; she continues to grip my hands. Wide eyes look back, but her shared want is unmistakable. I skim my lips against hers and wait for the reaction, fighting against the need bubbling to the surface, the one pushing out weeks of self-control. “Ruby.”
“f-uck it.” I want to laugh at her words as she winds her fingers into my hair and presses her lips against mine. I shift, encircling her waist, holding her to me. Parting her lips with my tongue, I claim her mouth, the mouth I’ve tortured myself dreaming about, and the dreams that keep away the nightmares. The depth of her kiss drags away the last worry that she doesn’t want this. Ruby’s fingers trail to the nape of my neck, holding my head against hers.
The lust floods to my hardening dick and she stumbles backward as I push her against the door. Ruby drags her mouth away with a gasp so I lay kisses along her neck. I’m desperate to touch her but I’m limiting myself, listening to the tiny piece of rationality surviving the hunger I have for this woman. If I slide a hand up Ruby’s naked leg, I’m pretty damn sure I’d get a slap and this would be over.
“Jem. Stop,” she breathes, although her body is telling me a different story, arching toward me as I nip at her soft skin. I want her so f-ucking much, kissing her isn’t enough.
Ruby’s puts her arms between our chests and shoves me. “Stop!”
I drop my arms and step back. Her pink face reflects my confusion.
The line crossed, reality hangs between us. With that kiss, she jolted the emotions I’ve pushed and pushed until they were buried in the corner of my mind but without drugs, denying to myself how I feel isn’t as easy. Ruby’s kiss ripped the hidden corner open and my deepest thoughts and fears flood out, along with the weeks of desire for her pouring into my body. Not physical desire, that’s clear and always was; but an ache to have Ruby in my life. Take care of her. Be who she wants me to be. Who she needs me to be.
Like Liv.
Shit.
I take another step back, pulling away from the fusion happening. “f-uck. Sorry. I have to go. Sorry, I can’t do this.”
“What the hell?” she whispers.
I rub my palms across my face. Yeah, what the hell am I doing? “I shouldn’t have. Shit, Ruby. I’m f-ucking sorry.”
Ruby’s flushed face now pales and I pray there’s no tears. “You bastard. I knew you were screwing around with me!”
“It was only a kiss.”
Ruby parts her mouth to say something; but instead she turns away, tearing at my heart. Yeah, my heart, the muscle that pumps blood suddenly hurts. No, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was a unity. The raw connection I saw and denied the first time we met led to this moment and melded our lives.
And I’m not going there.
I hover for a moment; but Ruby doesn’t turn back to me, instead stands with her arms wrapped around herself. I won’t be able to give Ruby what she wants because I’m not prepared to give myself to anyone. Ruby deserves someone to love and cherish her, not a fucked-up ex-addict who can’t look at her without seeing the girl who died because of him.
When the silence remains, I walk away. What point are words?