17. Chapter Seventeen
17
Ryker
Wren shifts into me when my phone rings, the volume louder than I intended for it to be, and I carefully slip from beneath her to answer the call in another room. There’s no sense in waking Wren up, after our night together I’m sure she needs her sleep.
I scrunch my eyebrows together when I see Mack’s name pop up and clear my throat when I answer the call. “Mack, what’s going on?”
“Just calling to check in, and wanted to see if you’ve got your head on right to get back into the tour.”
“It’s okay to say you miss me,” I say with a grin, even though he can’t see me.
I’m sure he’s already rolling his eyes by now.
“The guys need you back, Ryker. It’s been hard on them being a man down, whether it’s for the right reasons or not.”
My mind rolls through all the time I’ve spent with Wren while being here and how hard it will be for everything to come to an end. I was told that I’d be here for a few weeks, and it’s only been a couple – it’s hard to keep track of the days when I’ve got someone to take up all my time.
I look over my shoulder, just to make sure Wren isn’t creeping behind me, then I sigh heavily into the line. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Mack. There’s still a lot for me to work through, and I’d hate for it to affect them.”
“You’re right,” Mack says before muttering a few curses. “I’ll just tell them to postpone the rest of the tour until you’re back and in action.”
“Did they not put the backup guitarist in my place?”
When I talked to Brent right before leaving, he swore that they would handle everything and promised me they’d utilize our backup guitarist.
As far as I knew from our conversations, they had a backup in my place.
It’s hard for Brent to do since he’s the lead singer, but the rest of us held an audition a while back so that we could each choose who would be our backup in case of emergencies.
This was considered an emergency since we were in the middle of our tour when I snapped at that guy backstage, and I trusted that they would do what was right—even if it made me wonder how important I’d be to the band afterward.
“They did,” Mack confirms. “It’s not exactly working out. The guy is screwing up left and right during rehearsals and sound checks. Calling it a nightmare would be an understatement, honestly.”
“I wish I could help out, Mack, but it’s best if I stick around and get myself under control.”
The more I think about it, the easier it is to see that I’ve been in control for a little while now. I could’ve caused more of a scene when Elias showed up at my place yesterday, but I walked away from the fight because I knew it would be important to Wren.
Wren’s grounding me in a way no one has ever been able to do.
“Thought you were against the therapy crap?”
I run a hand through my hair, knowing it wouldn’t be wise to tell him what’s really been going on, and nod against the phone. “I was, but it’s starting to grow on me. The woman you hired really knows what she’s doing.”
As soon as I speak that into the line, Wren pushes through the door I’ve got cracked and sticks her head inside with a frown. I’m about to wave her away and tell her everything is okay, but she steps into the room before I’ve got a chance to say the words.
She really knows what the hell she’s doing.
My shirt hangs loosely around her thighs, barely covering her bare ass beneath it, and it takes all my strength to hold back the groan desperate to come out. I’m surprised she came and found me in the first place. I assumed that once she woke up this morning she’d act as though our night never happened, or the day, but it’s seeming as though she’s coming around to the idea of us.
Us.
That’s not something I’d ever use to describe me and a woman together.
“Ryker?”
I reluctantly pull my attention from the red-haired vixen in front of me and focus on a random spot on the floor instead. “Sorry, Mack. I’ve gotta get off here. Wren wants to do some exercises with me this morning.”
“Exercises? You’re supposed to be getting therapy.”
“Trust me, that’s what she’s doing. It’s working wonders.” As I say this, I step closer to her until there’s only a sliver of space between us. “I’ll talk to you later. Let me know how things go with the guys, and I’m sure knowing the tour is going to be postponed will be a bummer for them.”
“Yeah,” he says slowly. “I’ll let you guys get to it, then. Let me know when you’re ready to come back.”
With the way Wren looks in my t-shirt, I’d rather spend the rest of my days in this house as long as she’s in it, too. “Will do.”
His voice carries over the line, but I quickly hang up before he can say anything else and immediately cut the space between Wren and me. She gasps at the contact, but her hands come flat to my chest, and she smiles knowingly at me. “I know what I’m doing, huh?”
I trail my gaze slowly down her frame, taking in her screamy skin, and lean my face forward. “Seems that way,” I rasp before grabbing her ass and lifting her up.
As much as I’d love to repeat last night, I’ve got better things in mind that I think she’d enjoy. I’ve spent all this time making sure we were alone, so I think it’s only right that I take her out to do something more public, and that’s exactly what I plan to do today.
***
When we pull into the large shopping district that’s about an hour away from the house, Wren squeals excitedly and darts out of the car before I’ve barely put it in park.
I chuckle as I get out and raise a brow in her direction. “Excited much?”
“What woman doesn’t love shopping? It’s a guilty pleasure,” she says, her mouth tipping into the biggest grin – one that rivals the sun shining down on her.
“Guess that means we should get moving, yeah?”
Wren rolls her eyes. “Men, they’ll never learn.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She chuckles and glances over her shoulder, winking at me. “You’re never supposed to take a woman shopping unless you want to spend hours doing so.”
Luckily for her, I’d already planned to be out most of the day, and it doesn’t bother me one bit – especially when it seems to make her this happy. We start down the street, passing other pedestrians in the process, and I breathe a sigh of relief that no one immediately takes their phones out to snap pictures.
I can’t imagine what Mack would do if he came across a picture of me and Wren walking along the street, looking more comfortable together than a therapist and client should be. There’s no doubt in my mind that Wren would end up losing her job and possibly be blacklisted from being able to find another one.
Mack is cool when he wants to be, but when it comes to us and his family that’s when the harsher version of him comes out. If he knew that Wren and I had been sneaking kisses, among other things, he’d immediately call whoever was necessary to have her character questioned.
Now that I think about it… maybe it wasn’t a good idea to do something in public , where anyone could recognize me and disrupt the private bubble I’ve built since getting here.
I’m about to tell Wren as much, but she’s pulling me into a small boutique before I can get a single word out and smiling brightly at the attendants standing like statues behind the counter. One of the girls gives her a small smile in greeting, one of those practiced ones that most customer service workers perfect, and goes back to having a conversation with the woman standing next to her.
So far, so good.
Wren makes a beeline for a rack located in the back of the room, dragging me right along with her, and I can’t even bring myself to be mad about it when we come to a stop. I never thought I’d be the kind of guy who could stand around while the woman I’m with shops, but there’s something captivating about the way her eyes light up when she sees an article of clothing she likes.
It makes me want to be around to see it more often.
If only she didn’t live in Arizona and could travel with me while on tour.
“Hm, I don’t think the blue would look right,” she mumbles, but it gains my attention, and I study the dress she’s holding out in front of her.
I glance at the rack and pull another one out – the same one, just in a darker blue – to hold out to her. “This one would look great with your blue eyes.”
She scrunches her nose at it, then looks up at me. “You’re giving me fashion advice? It seems as though we have come pretty far in such a short amount of time, huh?”
The woman who greeted us with a smile clears her throat behind us. “Is there anything I could help you two find?”
Wren shakes her head. “No, but could you point me to a fitting room, please?”
While she follows the worker toward the fitting room, I stick back and push through the racks surrounding me. There’s a dress hanging up that Wren would look phenomenal in, but is that something a guy would do?
There’s commotion in front of the store, but I’m too absorbed in my dilemma to worry about what’s going on, and I drape the dress over my arm before I change my mind. There’s an opening at the stomach, and the straps crisscross in the back to show off the nice curve Wren’s got along hers, and I smile knowingly.
This would be perfect for a nice dinner together.
Why do I feel the need to make Wren smile? It’s like there’s nothing I want more in this world than to see her lips curve into one, but I don’t understand.
My heart thumps wildly in response, and I nearly fall over from the realization.
I’m falling for her.
In the years since getting into the band, I’ve never fallen for anyone. I swore off it the moment my parents made me feel as though I wasn’t loved by them—the emotion came with nothing but heartache.
So, how could I possibly feel something like that for a woman I’ve only known a short time? Until I got to Arizona, she was a complete stranger to me.
Wren chuckles when she walks out of the fitting room. The worker smiles brightly in front of her, and I smile at the picture in front of me.
There’s something about her that makes you feel comfortable and cared for. It doesn’t matter if she’s known someone for only two minutes—she still manages to have the kindest heart. I overheard the things she said to her brother yesterday and knew immediately that there was something different about our situation.
Now I know what.
What do I do about it, though?
Surely, I can’t act on it.