Rising (Blue Phoenix, #4)(90)

“Are you okay?” Cerys’s brown eyes are full of concern. “You’re miles away.”

“Sorry, thinking about something.”

“You look sick; Liam said you’ve not been well since the tour started. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m going to the doctor if it doesn’t get any better. You staying with the band for long?” A subject change is needed. I’m not discussing my health with her.

“A couple of days between gigs, we’re doing the Paris thing.”

“Romantic.”

“In January? Cold.” She laughs then whispers, “Especially since missy here found out about Disneyland.”

“Right.”

I eat my salad, fighting the anxiety, and don’t remember a word of the rest of the conversation with Cerys. My decision and the reality of how my life is about to change for the second time in a year hits harder than ever after this one conversation.





Chapter Thirty-Eight



Ruby



Playing to Blue Phoenix stadium venues is a different experience to small clubs. The intimacy between the crowd and band is missing, especially as most are here to see the Blue Phoenix boys and not us. People hang out at the bar for drinks before Phoenix perform, leaving the floor of the venue half-empty when we do. Jax is put out by this the first time, but the other perks of touring with the guys soon make up for it. With three out of four of the band in a relationship, it doesn’t take much charm from Jax or the brothers to hook up after each gig if they want to.

Some nights I loiter offstage and watch Blue Phoenix play close up, caught in my old passion for their music, which is now replaced with the passion I have for the lead guitarist. Jem never notices, he’s like I am when on stage; lost in his place of sound and colour, occasionally interacting with Dylan or playing the crowd. I cast a look over the screaming girls at the front; it’s weird witnessing the adulation of the guys by others at such close quarter. Fans swarm outside every hotel and airport; most often, we duck out the back but Jax “somehow” tends to get lost and find himself mid-fans and media.

Blue Phoenix encore done, I head back to the Green Room; one where the backstage offerings from the venue are more than a single six pack and the bags of crisps supplied to Ruby Riot on their UK club circuit.

“You swearing off alcohol again?” asks Jax when I refuse a post-gig beer.

“Yeah.” I glance over at Jem who’s chatting to Dylan. Jem and Dylan appear closer, the strong friendship he mentioned clearer; but it worries me he hasn’t confided in Dylan about the baby yet. I passed Bryn, outside the room, talking intently to somebody on the phone. Liam ducks his head around the door to tell us he’s leaving to see Cerys.

“So much for the famous Blue Phoenix party animals,” complains Jax and takes a beer from the counter.

“I think they’re too old for that shit now,” I say.

“Twenty-six? f-uck, I hope I’m not old and boring then.”

Jem sits next to me, places his feet on the table and drapes an arm across my shoulder. “Who’s too old?”

“You guys. Behaving like old men,” says Jax. “Yeah, I get you don’t drink, but we could at least party a bit more!”

“Kinda burnt out, Jax,” says Jem. “You’re welcome to have your own parties; but make sure you don’t get into a life where a doctor tells you to stop or you’ll be dead before you’re thirty.”

I grip Jem’s hand. Was he told that? “Thanks, Dad,” says Jax with a laugh.

Jem tips his head at me. “Did you tell…”

Eyes widening, I shake my head vigorously. “He means you’re behaving like a dad.”

Jax doesn’t miss a beat. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

Bryn wanders into the room, humming and grabs the unopened beer from Jax’s hand. “Cheers, mate.”

Jax doesn’t respond. I can practically see his brain whirring as he looks between us.

“How’re you feeling now, Ruby?” Bryn asks. “Still sick?”

Nice timing.

“Getting better,” I mumble.

“Better in the evenings, huh?” He sits in the armchair next to Jem and leans forward to poke him. “Something you want to tell us?”

“No,” Jem retorts.

I stand and tuck my trembling hands under my arms. “I’m tired, Jem. Let’s go.”

Bryn sinks back and watches as Jem stands too. “I always know when you’re hiding a secret, Jeremy.”

“Shut up,” he warns.

Jem’s doing it again, the protective arm around my shoulder, fingers rubbing my neck. We’re a tactile couple since we allowed ourselves; but this kind of touch is more proprietary, and it annoys me. I duck from under his arm.

“Ruby,” says Jax, standing too. “Please don’t tell me you’re…”

“I’m not feeling well, okay! Just f-ucking leave it!” Since performing earlier, I’m light-headed, the lack of food not helpful. I slump back onto the sofa and Jem immediately joins me.

“You are! You’re f-ucking pregnant!” Jax waits for my denial, the shock on his face growing with each second I don’t respond. “For f-uck’s sake!”