Rising (Blue Phoenix, #4)(35)

I smile to myself when I hear the opening chords to “Rising”; typical of Ruby to do this when I told the band never to play my songs again. Only this time the sound reaches inside my heart. The memory of the day I wrote the song, of Phoenix being as new as Ruby Riot joins the images. “Rising”, the first real song we wrote. I knew at that moment we’d be big and I’d sacrifice anything to get there. I didn’t realise the sacrifices came later.

Aware Ruby’s stopped playing, I sit up. “Don’t stop.”

“Your breathing’s funny, are you okay?” She removes the strap from her shoulder.

“Just rewinding in my head. You’re making me feel old. I wrote that song eight years ago.”

“I thought Dylan wrote Blue Phoenix’s songs.”

“Lesser known fact, I wrote “Rising.”

“Really? Well, I listened to it on repeat for weeks. The first song that ever spoke to me,” she says softly, rubbing the neck of the guitar. “Did it help you?”

“No, but it sounds good, hey?” She doesn’t want me to meet Tuesday so she’s not going to delve into my mind either. I won’t share the pain that lies beneath the song.

The intensity and softness in her expression kills me. The song weakened and hit me further with what I deny: Ruby is the epitome of myself. She’s here and her eyes are acknowledging what I repeatedly see: we’re from the same place and we don’t want to be there. I can’t hold Ruby’s look; I’m sitting on the bed with this woman and the buried need to hold her resurfaces. Kiss her. Touch her. Inhale her, until she’s part of me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.

“Because you blow me away. You’re amazing.”

Ruby carefully places the guitar on the floor and shifts on the bed, tucking her long legs under her. “Can I be straight with you, Jem? Get this out in the open so we can lay it to rest?”

“Be straight as you like, you always are.” I prop myself on my elbows.

We half-smile at each other and the understanding floods the physical desire again.

Ruby tips her head. “You know we’ve avoided each other for most of the tour, right?”

“No,” I catch her look. “Okay, yeah. A bit.”

“Because something weird’s between us, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, I can’t get past seeing you as the guy in the kitchen that night; he was pretty scary.” I look away. “I wanted to help you when I should’ve run and that’s part of this ‘something weird’,” she says with a small crease of concern between her brows.

“I’m sorry I scared you. Don’t worry; you won’t see him again. We’ll keep things professional.”

Ruby drags her hair from her face and holds it as she studies me with pursed lips. “Not just that but all the parts of you I saw in that week. I felt a weird connection to you and it worries me. Especially when you say shit about how I’m looking better, as if you’re thinking of me.”

“Okay, I won’t say anything. I won’t come near you if you don’t want.”

She’s so f-ucking hypocritical. Ruby came here tonight; and we’re sitting on my bed together, talking about guitars and music and wrapping our world back around our shoulders. All that’s left is to reach out and admit this.

Ruby indicates herself and me. “URST.”

“Erst?”

“Unresolved sexual tension. It’s a thing on TV and movies. Two people attracted to each other but can’t or won’t do anything about it for whatever reason. It follows us too.”

I shrug. “Right. If you say.”

“Seriously, Jem? You’re saying there isn’t any?”

“Are you asking me if I want to f-uck you?”

“No, I’m not asking; I don’t want to have sex with you. I’m saying there’s an attraction and it’s awkward, yeah?”

I guess Ruby doesn’t have an issue with the topic; but the word ‘sex’ should not come from that mouth, otherwise I’ll be forced to kiss it away and show her what the hell she’s doing to me.

Deep breath, Jem.

“So what if there is; we don’t need to act on it. I get why you’re saying this and you should know by now I’m not going to do anything that’ll cause problems. You’re an attractive chick; yeah, I’m not screwing this up by hitting on you.”

“Okay,” she says doubtfully. “Because I don’t want anything f-ucking up the other relationship we have… the musical one.”

“I think you need to worry more about you and Jax if the concern is f-ucking up musical relationships.”

“Me and Jax?”

“Your URST or lack of, if you’re an item.”

“We’re not an item! Jesus!” Ruby laughs. “No way, never Jax. He models himself on you when it comes to women. If I was with him, would I put up with the girls he scouts out after every gig?”

“I don’t see much of him doing that.”

“Yeah, you’re not around. You come back to your room and sulk. This whole tour you’ve behaved like a grumpy old man apart from when your Blue Phoenix buddies have been around.”