Turn The Page (Kissed by A Muse Book 2) (14 page)

‘If I thought you were sober enough to attempt either, you’d know because I would have pushed you through the window already…’ she groused, annoyed to see that every notification she had was about her Ryan post. Fuck, these women needed a life more than she did! ‘You’re welcome to stay- so long as you stay over there.’

And I need a swear jar! What the heck, Leigh?

‘No. I’ll go.’ Ryan put the blanket down. ‘I’d rather be at home loathing myself alone, than in the company of a girl I like doing the same.’

Leigh’s guilty conscience rattled her heartstrings like a prisoner demanding release. ‘I don’t hate you, Ryan. You just confuse me, and I don’t have enough normal human interaction, to be able to handle the incredibly beautiful, somewhat questionable, possibly imaginary friend I’ve picked up from the banks of Niagara Gorge, without losing my patience and manners every now and then.’ She opened up Picnic At Hanging Rock, annoyed that she’d have to give the one-handed read a miss. ‘And you’ve had your moments too, you know.’

Ryan flicked open the blanket, and the gesture soothed something inside Leigh. ‘Can you blame me? Every fucking time we talk, you go all doe-eyed and call me beautiful and drool on my damned shoes. A man would have to be made of stone to not respond to that!’

‘They’re just words, Ryan- and a bit of perving. I’m attracted to you because you’re very attractive, but that’s it. You are not husband material, you don’t want to be, and I’m fine with that.’ Leigh was glad that he couldn’t see her in the darkness. To be certain, she rolled away from him and held the Kindle at arm’s length, giving her eyes the time they needed to refocus, suddenly wishing that she could call her mother and beg to hear the story again. ‘If you’re still wondering what your chances of getting a piece of bookworm ass might be- read this body language right now, and you’ll know.’

She heard Ryan chuckle. ‘You do know that giving me a clear view of your delightful, bookworm ass, while asking me to read into it, is asking for all sorts of trouble, right?’

Leigh groaned and tugged her comforter up over her hips. ‘How’s that?’

‘Clearer.’ But Ryan still sounded amused. ‘But I retain my new memories now, you know- which means that I only have to close my eyes to enjoy how literally fitting that Hooters shirt looks on you. Hey… maybe that can be your next job? You certainly, uh… fit the employee guidelines...’

Leigh gnashed her teeth together and ignored him, suddenly desperate to call her mother and ask for another re-telling of her woeful story, to replenish her draining moral stock.

No, you don’t need mum’s help! What you need is to grow a fucking backbone. He was inside someone else an HOUR ago! The fact that anything he says is resonating with any part of you, other than your gag reflex, is twisted. Maybe Ryan Weaver from The Hardest Fall was the ultimate gentleman- balancing sexy and predatory with sweetness- but this guy is like Pac Man when it comes to gobbling up attention and affection, and if you let him treat you like a blip, then know that every single heroine you’ve ever aspired to emote, would laugh at you!

It was a difficult fact to accept, but one Leigh was in dire need of accepting and so, she burrowed further into her comforter and focused on the one story in the world that was more depressing, twisted and confusing than Ryan’s while she struggled to ignore his presence within her room and how that thrilled her.

She read the entire book while his breathing grew deep and even, and when she heard The Hardest Fall, fall to the floor, she flicked through her library and went for the dirty book immediately.

He won’t know… He’s out to it! Two minutes is all I need...

But Leigh had read three horrible erotic novellas by the time the clock hit three am. Frustrated almost to the point of tears, she opened up her e-copy of The Hardest Fall, and went to her favourite scene, the one where Ryan took Kylie for the first time.

It’s not him, it’s the writer it’s not him, it’s the writer...

Leigh was just about to come against her own tentative fingers, when Ryan began to sob in his sleep. Sighing, she threw off the cover and moved towards him, adjusting his blanket over his shoulders and smiling when he stilled. She didn’t know when she had become the protective one, rather than the guarded, but she sort of liked it.

Thirteen

Ryan

A
cloying, feminine scent wafted into his nostrils in the morning, rousing Ryan in one deep inhalation. The scent was so sweet that it was almost unbearable, making all of his senses and nerve endings shimmer to life, sort of like when he’d had a sour gummy worm the week before and his taste buds had shivered violently. He opened his eyes in one blink, and when he looked down and saw the pale hair splayed across his chest like liquid gold in the white sunlight, his chest tightened on the breath and held it there, afraid to move and rouse the angel draped across his chest. He didn’t know why Leigh was there, but he didn’t much care. He touched her hair, then instantly regretted moving, because it drew his attention to the fact that his body was cramping up and that his bladder was in urgent need of being relieved.

‘Leigh?’ He combed a few limp curls back from her forehead and towards him gently, wishing he could see her eyes when she woke up and realised that she’d taken advantage of his unconsciousness the way she’d cautioned him against doing to her. The thought, and the memory of her snooty attitude as they’d said their good-nights’ made him smile. She was a complex little thing; turning her back to him haughtily, only to end up hugging his chest like he was a teddy bear that had been too heavy to drag to bed! It would have been adorable, were it not also slightly troubling. Sleepwalking was one thing, but sleep-cuddling? How severe was her crush on him anyway?

Severe enough to get her naked if you applied yourself, and give you the guilt complex of the century! You fucked up last night- but if you flirt again today, knowing full well that you can’t give her a fifth of what she needs from a man, then you won’t need your memory back to know that you’re a scumbag to the core!

‘Leigh…’ Ryan’s fingers drifted down the nape of her neck as his eyes fell to the floor, and assessed the way that her long legs were folded beneath her with her beanie in her lap. What an uncomfortable way to sleep! He shook her shoulder slightly, feeling like a troll being rough with a fledgling, but he spoke more loudly, desperate to get her off before the lower half of his body wake up and scented a virgin in his lap: ‘Honey, please wake up- I need to pee.’

Leigh moaned softly and rubbed her head into his chest. ‘Mmm?’ Ryan almost melted at the adorableness that was his little blonde pocket rocket while in neutral, but then she tightened her arm around his torso and suddenly, he really did need to pee.

‘Okay. You’re as bad as me at this morning thing. Tough love time!’ Ryan began to sit up, his muscles protesting as they were forced to straighten a little after so many hours of being up around his waist, but Leigh rose swiftly then, sitting up and looking around, her blonde hair swinging this way and that as she assessed her bed and the wall.

‘What? Huh?’ She began to pat at herself, then the floor, then snatched up her glasses and twisted to look at him. Her eyes were almost a foggy, sea green over her pupils, but slightly pink in the inner corners, and she had a perfect imprint of his necklace running across the upper apple of her right cheek. Those eyes widened. ‘Ryan! You…’ and then she was tomato red. ‘Oh my god! Ugh!’ She was more awake than Ryan had ever seen anyone after that, bursting into a flurry of motion as she lifted her iPad from her bed, peered at it and then swore under her breath. ‘It’s nine am! Crap!’

Ryan groaned as he got his feet onto the floor, annoyed to discover that he’d slept in his shoes as well. ‘Good morning to you too…’ he leaned forward, lacing his hands behind his back and stretching them as hard as he could behind him. Even though he’d vowed now to flirt with her, he couldn’t help but get in a dig. ‘I’d ask if you slept well but clearly, you were comfortable to the point of comatose.’

‘Slept well?’ She crossed her arms across her chest and gave him that fabulous haughty glare she had perfected, but her loose T-shirt rode up with the gesture, exposing a perfect, tapered tummy- the kind of tummy he would have enjoyed tickling. ‘Are you kidding? I’ve heard my friends complain about their new born babies keeping them up all night, but I’ll bet there isn’t an infant alive who fusses more than you do!’

Ryan frowned at her, tummy-tickling forgotten. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t snore, do I?’

‘I wish!’ Leigh turned away and began rooting through her bureau. ‘You cry, you cry out, you toss and turn, you talk, you swear… you…’ she shook her head, yanking something green out of her bag along with a pair of jeans and turning back to him with pink cheeks. ‘You suffer, really. I reckon you had more disagreements with imaginary people in your sleep last night than I’ve had with footy players at Bruskies on a Mad Monday!’

‘Really?’ Ryan was astounded to realise that once again, Leigh was telling him about himself, and also that he knew what she was referring to when she said: ‘Mad Monday’s.’ His brain scratched at the trivial thought, trying to give it shape and form. He knew that it was the day when Aussie footy players ran amuck to celebrate the end of season, and that it almost always end up in drunken brawls and arrests- but he couldn’t dredge up a memory of it actually occurring. Did he know what it was because he’d read about it, rather than experienced it? Or had he been one of them once? He was certainly built as though he’d been a very physical person. Lanky yes, but fit. ‘Imogen never mentioned me doing that kind of thing...’

‘Didn’t you say that Imogen was like, one hundred years old? So she was probably too out of it to notice. I, on the other hand, am a very light sleeper,’ Leigh said crabbily, stalking towards the bathroom. ‘And you are a very bad one, believe me!’

Ryan got to his feet, rubbing the back of his hair and suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious. He’d known that he had nightmares often, but he’d had no idea that they he’d ever acted them out physically. And it wasn’t just intensely bad dreams he had either, but also, incredibly erotic ones! So what had he done under the veil of sleep, unaware that he was in Leigh’s arms? ‘Is that why you were…?’

Leigh paused at the bathroom door and turned around, folding her arms across her chest and smiling smugly at him. ‘No Ryan… I was all over you because I couldn’t not fondle that body…’ she made her eyebrows dance. ‘Ooh baby… I violated you so many times that I can barely move my wrist or my jaw…But I’m still a virgin so it’s okay- that’s not breaking the rules, right?’

Ryan’s ego winced and his balls followed accordingly. He dropped his eyes; ashamed that she was right- he really had jumped to the conclusion that she’d snuck in for a cuddle. ‘Please…’ he said softly. ‘I’m really embarrassed right now…’

There was a pause and when Leigh spoke again, her voice was free of malice. ‘You seemed to find my proximity… soothing,’ she said quietly. ‘You never actually woke up, and you were restless all night, but when I played with your hair or rubbed your arm and whispered that you were just dreaming, you’d calm down for a while.’ She paused again, while Ryan’s body burned like he was a woman experiencing a menopausal hot flash. ‘So yes, I lost a lot of sleep and no, it wasn’t exactly appealing behaviour… but it was kind of cute- at times.’

Ryan peeked up at her. ‘Yeah?’

Leigh scowled at him. ‘Digging for compliments right now would be a very unbecoming thing to do, Mister Weaver.’ She pushed off the door. ‘Anyway, I’m going to go have a shower- a quick one because I’ve already lost two hours of my day and then, we’re gonna sneak you out of here.’ She paused. ‘I may have some very good news for you later-’

‘I know,’ he glanced at the shower behind her, hoping she’d offer for him to have one after, suddenly very aware of how good she looked and smelled, but how bad his morning breath tasted and how much he probably stank of sweaty leather, over-worn socks and rum in comparison.

‘You do?’

‘Yeah. I heard what you asked of Bruce…I was in the stairwell, remember? Trapped.’ He shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled timidly at her. ‘You really are a bit of an angel, you know that? Taking care of me the way you have been... I…’ he took a step towards her, wanting to ask if he could give her a hug- a friendly one as a thank you- but she turned away.

‘Don’t mention it, really. Anyone else in my position would do the…’ the bathroom door closed between them, muffling her last words and Ryan stared at it afterwards, feeling awkward and perplexed. She was acting very strangely. Of course, he had been too, but he had reasons for trying to hold on to whoever he could- he was all alone in the world and without purpose!

But Leigh was a bright, outgoing tourist in an exciting city… why on earth had she made it her mission to help him? He’d asked- begged even- but why had she said yes? What was in this for her?

Good Samaritan points, man! Leigh said it herself; people who do other peoples gratuitous favours are getting some kind of pay-off out of it… and she might get to meet her favourite author and earn herself a halo and a killer ‘blog’ entry or whatever in the process, so why not adopt an amnesia patient?

Ryan turned away from the bathroom when he heard Leigh’s iPod start playing some muffled track through the closed door just as the shower turned on. He rifled through his bag for his gum and scrunched up his face when he spied one of the stray condoms rattling around in the bottom. Without the book inside, his meagre possessions seemed pointless and pathetic; cigarettes he wasn’t allowed to smoke in the city that was too idyllic for him, gum for kisses with random girls, condoms he’d been unable to wear, keys that belonged to a house that was his, but one that he had not earned…

I have to change. I can’t keep letting my memory loss be an excuse for me to spin my wheels. I need to set goals for myself! I need to start grocery shopping and working out… cutting out the ciggies… getting an online presence like Leigh said- become somebody. My name might not be my own, but my life is, and I’m wasting it.

Ryan popped the gum into his mouth, deciding then and there to get a phone and an e-mail address. He didn’t have anyone to call or e-mail, but he could ask Leigh for her contact information, couldn’t he? That would be a pretty terrific start.

Maybe I could sell one of the houses, and donate the money to a charity, like a suicide one… and maybe I should start writing down those poems I think up- and start setting an alarm! And… ow! I definitely need to pee!

There was a knock on the door then, jerking him from his to-do list and abdominal discomfort. He could hear now that the song she was playing was ‘Stupid Cupid’ and he smirked, deciding to take that personally, even if she wasn’t indeed, paying homage to the face she seemed to enjoy looking at so much.

She wants it! Gah! Teasing little…

‘Room service,’ a clipped, British voice called through the door, and Ryan wondered if maybe he could write his credit card number down on the slip, and ask that all of Leigh’s room service orders be charged to him for the duration of his stay. She wouldn’t like it, but she was going out of his way for him, and he wanted to thank her anyway he could and cash was the one thing he had in spades. Smiling, anticipating the way she’d go off (he was getting addicted to the rush he got from fighting with her), he loped towards the door, increasing his pace when he heard the shower turn off, knowing that he needed to act quickly or end up squabbling with her in front of yet another hotel employee.

The door opened, and Bruce’s beaming grin fell with it, taking Ryan’s along for the ride.

Uh-oh…

‘Weaver!’ Bruce made no attempt to hide his shock and fury. He stepped forward into the room like he owned the place, which was only half true, slamming the room service tray into Ryan’s chest hard enough to make the silver lids covering the dishes clank. ‘Are you kidding me with this shit? I told you-’

Ryan took the tray from Bruce before they both ended up wearing Leigh’s breakfast and kicked the corner of the door shut quickly. ‘It’s not what you think man, so don’t lose your shit, okay?’

‘It’s you who’s going to lose something- something like teeth!’ Bruce shoved Ryan back by his shoulders, and Ryan lost a few centimetres of ground thanks to his hangover-induced weakness, which pissed him off. He covered it by turning and sliding the tray onto the T.V cabinet and then reared up to face his newest enemy, trying not to smile as scornfully as he felt towards the other guy, who was tall, but hardly intimidating.

‘What did I tell you about harassing-’

‘Settle petal, all right?’ Ryan stood his ground as Bruce shoved him again, unable to resist smirking. ‘I didn’t sleep with her- I just crashed here.’

‘Yeah right!’

Ryan crossed his heart. ‘I swear it man- I slept on the couch.’

The bathroom door opened then. ‘Ryan… Did you know that I have an imprint from your damn fly on my FACE?’ She was shoving her foggy glasses onto her nose. ‘Why didn’t you tell- oh my god!’ Leigh tucked the towel she’d yanked on into a fold between his breasts and Ryan face-palmed himself. Of all the things she’d had to shout in greeting…!

‘Bruce!’ her voice was a squeak and she retreated back into the threshold of the bathroom door, adjusting her glasses with one hand and holding her towel tightly with the other. The sugary-scented cloud of steam wafted past her, carrying her delicious smell and Connie Francis’s husky voice, and Ryan didn’t know if he wanted to keep her as a pet and smush his face into hers like a baby kitten, or pet her until she became a tigress.

Looks that work for her; angry, happy, casual, eveningwear, sleepy… and wet. Yep… tigress it is...

Bruce however, looked ready to put a choke chain on her and treat her like a very, VERY bad kitty. ‘What’s going on, Leigh?’ He snapped angrily, dropping character yet again. ‘I thought we-’