Only With You (15 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Ryder

The
flight to Philadelphia was one of the longest of my life, because I wasn’t sure what I was walking into. I was exhausted, and all I really wanted to do was pass out for a few hours against the window, but that wasn’t going to happen – even in the first class seat Sydney had purchased for me. I didn’t feel great about taking handouts from her, but I was broke, she had money to spare, and I wanted to see her. I didn’t really have any other options.

I just needed to get used to the fact that the girl I was seeing – still couldn’t believe that was something I could actually say – had money. It wasn’t like I wouldn’t have money one day
too, but that was a long way off.

I tried not to let it bother me, just like I tried not to read into Sydney’s tone when we’d talked
for the past two days. She’d seemed different, almost like she was forcing emotion or something. It kind of rocked me a little bit and not in a good way. Earlier in the week when we’d talked, she’d been flirty and playful, telling me how excited she was to see me and counting down the days, but then it felt like something had shifted, and I didn’t know what it was.

She’d told me that she’d talked to Chris, her manager, and he’d asked her to go along with the charade with Dillon for a little longer, so maybe that was it. It wasn’t ideal, but I’d known it might be a possibility. Maybe we coul
d talk more about it before her concert. I just hoped it wasn’t something else. I hoped she hadn’t changed her mind, and a part of me knew I’d live in fear of that for a while until I was confident enough to believe that she wanted to be with me.

The guy who’d been overl
ooked and then rejected, or so he’d thought, was still a little gun-shy. And the more time spent apart from Sydney, without being able to see her face and read her expressions, had my nerves on edge.

So
I settled for plugging into my iPod in an effort to take my mind off of things I couldn’t control from thirty thousand feet above the ground, which worked until
Teenage Dirtbag
by Wheatus came on, and I couldn’t help but let my head fall back against the seat. Oh, the irony. I’d played that song over and over again as a fifteen year-old so much that it had become my freaking anthem back when I just wanted Sydney to notice me as more than a friend. Now that she finally had, I couldn’t accept it. In my head I was still that shy, skinny, dorky teenager who was so in love with his best friend he couldn’t see straight.

I took a deep breath, willing myself to get over it and get my goddamn confidence back.
I was tall, I worked out, I had good hair, and yeah, I was good looking. And I was smart. I knew that. I wasn’t fifteen anymore, and I was on a flight going to see the girl I loved because she wanted to see me, plain and simple.

My confidence had never faltered with any other girl, ever. I didn’t care if th
ey liked me or not or if I even talked to them again after a night of flirting or making out or even casual sex. I hadn’t put much thought into what they thought of me, but they’d stroked my ego enough for me to know that they liked what they saw. I probably should have been a conceited prick, but I wasn’t, because for the longest time, there was just one girl who mattered. And she hadn’t given me the time of day until now. Now she wanted me. And as the captain announced that we’d be landing in Philadelphia shortly, I tried to keep that in mind.

Syd had told me a driver would be waiting at baggage claim to pick me up and bring me to the arena where she was performing. I wished it would have been her picking me up, and as I introduced myself to the man
named Gerald holding the sign with my name on it and followed him to the Town Car parked out front, a part of me held out hope that Syd would be waiting in the car when I got in. My heart actually sank when I saw that the backseat was empty, and I threw my duffel bag across it and slid in. Gerald closed the door after me.

Why did I feel like I was on my way to my own funeral?

Her tone. It was her freaking tone. I could read that girl like a book, and something was wrong.

I just didn’t know what it was.

I pulled out my phone from the sheer need to have something to do and shot of a text to Syd, letting her know I’d landed and was on my way to her. I don’t know what I expected back, but when she responded a few minutes later, all she said was,
Great! See you soon.

I let my head fall back against the sea
t and looked out at the passing scenery. I’d never been to Philadelphia before, and I wanted to soak in as much as I could since we weren’t staying long. I’d be with Sydney for a few stops in the Northeast, and I wondered if I’d get to see more of them outside of the arenas she’d play at and the hotels we’d stay in.

I thought
she might have one or two days off between shows during the week, but I was pretty sure Syd had other things on her schedule that would keep her busy. I figured it didn’t really matter if I got to sightsee. As long as I had time with her, that was all that I needed. I wanted to stay longer, but I only had a week before I had to head back to Gainesville for my first week of summer classes.

It was the second
summer I’d stayed and taken classes. UF required all students to take at least one summer semester, and I’d fulfilled that the year before, but since I was double-majoring, taking summer classes allowed me to work more electives into my schedule during the school year instead of killing myself with all core classes.

But
I was suddenly regretting being so strategic with my school plan. Having the whole summer off would have made things a lot easier for us. Then again, maybe after a week Sydney would be tired of me, and I’d go home with my tail between my legs feeling like a failure. All these possibilities, and no way of knowing where the chips would fall.

We pulled up
to the arena at five, and there were already crowds of people milling around. The concert didn’t start for a few hours, and Sydney wouldn’t go on until at least nine, but radio stations were there hosting contests, there were several merchandise booths set up, and people were trying to sell or buy tickets. My driver took us around the back and pulled up to a nondescript entrance. A few dozen fans lingered around and got excited when they saw a black car drive up. I bet they thought I was somebody, and boy would they be disappointed when they realized the truth.

The
unmarked door opened, and a young blond girl wearing a ‘Sydney Chase Bulletproof Tour’ shirt stepped outside and smiled at me as I got out of the car.

“Hi Ryder!” she said cheerfully.

“Uh, hi,” I said, realizing that she looked vaguely familiar. I figured I’d probably met her at the party Sydney had thrown the week before after her concert in Tampa. I’d met a lot of people that night.

“Leave your bag there,”
the girl commanded.

“Oh yeah?” I questioned
, hesitant to not take my stuff with me.

She nodded. “Yeah, Gerald will make sure it gets to your
room at the hotel, and he’ll give you a ride back there later.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, releasing the hold on my duffel.

I wanted to ask which room my stuff would be in, but I didn’t think that would be appropriate since Syd and I were on the down-low about who we really were to each other. But she wouldn’t have gotten me my own room, would she? I fully planned on sleeping in her bed with her. Was this just another sign that things were going to blow up in my face?

“I’m sorry, what was your name again?” I asked the blond as she ushered me inside.

I found myself in a very industrial looking hallway, but I didn’t have much time to look around since the girl was walking at a clipped pace. Lucky for me, I had long legs and didn’t really have to work to keep up with her.

“I’m Elisa,” she said, glancing at m
e over her shoulder. “I work with Laurie, Sydney’s publicist. I’m basically the second-in-command when it comes to Sydney’s publicity and promotions for this tour.”

“Oh, okay.
Well, thanks for meeting me.”

I figured it was probably outside
of her job description, but she didn’t seem like it bothered her.

“No prob,” she said, smiling at me. “It’s good to see you again. I actually thought you were pretty cute when we met last weekend, but when I asked Syd if you were
single, she said you were gay.”

I choked as soon as she said that, coughing loudly for a good thirty seconds.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was I not supposed to know that? Are you not out?” Elisa asked, looking appropriately contrite.

I cleared my throat and coughed for what I hoped was the last time. Then I remembered the craziness that Sydney had believed for so long. How could she honestly believe that I was gay? And how many people had she told
that to?

“When did she tell you that?” I managed to ask, my voice sounding raspy.

“A few days ago. I called her to talk about the new perfume we’re launching next month, and I snuck in the question at the end. I know I probably crossed some professional line, but whatever. Syd’s so awesome, so I didn’t think she’d mind. She could have gotten bitchy since I know you guys have been friends since like birth, but she was cool about it.”

A few days ago. That was after we’d hooked up, and after she learned how not gay I really was. Interesting and potentially promising. If she wasn’t into me, she wouldn’t have cared if a girl she worked with hooked up with me. Okay, confidence restored.

Elisa and I wound our way around the skeleton of the arena, passing quickly by what I recognized as the meet-and-greet tent where Syd would greet her fans who’d either won the chance to meet her or purchased passes. A team of people were erecting the tent, and they’d decorate the inside in the colors and theme of the tour. At one of her shows during her last tour, I’d been in the tent with her, passing out guitar picks with her face on them and standing by as her fans gushed and cried and told her how much they loved her. It was sort of surreal.

“Everyon
e’s in here,” Elisa told me when we got to a door marked ‘Sydney Chase’.

“Oh, okay,” I said, as she pushed it open, and I saw that everyone was in fact in there.

I felt a little let down, hoping Sydney and I would have some time alone, but she was in the make-up chair already getting ready for the meet-and-greet. Her stylist and hair and make-up people were buzzing around, talking, laughing and maneuvering around each other and Sydney, who sat with a bag of Twizzlers on her lap, munching on one as she listened to some story her make-up girl, Shelly, was telling about her cat.

“Have fun,” Elisa said to me before she closed the door and left me in the midst of all the chaos.

I realized I’d never refuted the fact that I wasn’t gay. But what did it really matter what she thought?

Shelly looked up,
caught my eye then and smiled. Then she leaned down to whisper something in Sydney’s ear. Syd looked up, and I met her gaze the moment she saw me in the reflection of the lighted mirror in front of her. She smiled widely, and I offered her a tentative wave, wondering why I felt so nervous.

A part of me wanted to run over to her, push everyone out of the way and pull her into my arms, but another part of me wanted to vomit right there on the spot. I settled for taking a seat on the couch behind all the activity. I was still able to watch Syd’s reflection in the mirror.

“Hey Ryder,” Shelly called out. “Good to see you again. You staying out of trouble?”

I smirked. “Yeah, for the most part. You k
now me, just studying a lot, and then I study some more. But I make time for some debauchery at the end of each day.

Shelly winked at me. Then
I watched Syd say something to her, but I couldn’t hear what it was. She had a smile on her face though, and Shelly nodded appreciatively. Clea and Denise came over then and sat down on either side of me.

“You’re looking good
for someone who just spent the last week with their nose in a book, Ryder,” Clea said, her hand squeezing my bicep. I felt my cheeks heat. “Doesn’t he look good, Denise?”

Denise elbowed me in the ribs. “Hot as always.
How were your finals? Still got that 4.0 GPA?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I pull
ed out of the semester with A’s in all my classes.”

“Nice job, dude,” Denise said, high-fiving me.

Although she’d majored in fashion, she’d minored in biology in college, so we actually had found quite a bit to talk about over the years. She was one of the few people who knew how crazy school could be for me.

“So, h
ow’s it going in the love department?” Clea asked. “You seeing anyone?”

“Uh, not really,” I said, aiming for vague, not exactly sure what I was supposed to say.

I could try ‘
Yes, actually I’m dating the girl sitting right over there but it’s a secret, so don’t tell anyone’. Yeah, not so much.

“That’s too bad,” Clea said, shaking her head at Denise and then looking back at me. “You’re such a
little cutie-pants. Some hot guy will be lucky to scoop you right up.”