Rising (Blue Phoenix, #4)(41)

“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.