Strings of the Heart (Runaway Train #3)(16)

Taking my napkin back in my hands, I twisted it nervously at his response. I don’t know why I was so concerned with his approval. In the end, he wasn’t my parents or Jake. He was just the guy I was completely in love with.

“You see, she has this band that plays during the week. Well, when the lead singer broke up with the drummer, she left the band, and in turn, she left Cassie without entertainment.”

“What’s the name of this band?”

“Pink Magnolia.”

Rhys’s brows shot up, sending my already frayed nerves into overdrive. I couldn’t help hoping that the name of the band had made him think of the magnolia charm he’d given me on my sixteenth birthday. I was probably desperately clawing at straws on that one. “I see,” he once again replied.

“Anyway, so after she heard me singing in my room when I was unpacking, she totally ambushed me to take the singer’s place until she could find a replacement. At first, I didn’t want to because Jake is the entertainer in the family, not me. Truth be told, I’m not that great a singer. But she was desperate, so I finally agreed to do it.”

“Saffie’s Tea Room,” he repeated in an even voice. “Am I correct in assuming this is named after Sappho, the Greek poetess?”

“Yes, it is,” I replied, twisting my napkin a little farther.

“The lesbian Greek poetess.”

“Yessss,” I hissed like the sexual orientation was supposed to matter.

Leaning in on the table with his elbows, Rhys cocked his head at me. “Let me get this straight. You are underage and singing at a lesbian nightclub?”

“Mmm, hmm.”

Rhys stared at me for a moment before howling with laughter. “What I wouldn’t give to see Jake’s face when he finds out.”

“It’s not funny,” I huffed indignantly. “It’s a perfectly respectable establishment. And the girls in the band have been nothing but sweet and helpful to me.” When he snorted back his laughter into his napkin, I said, “As a matter of fact, I’m having so much fun doing it, I told Cassie not to worry about finding a replacement. I would just stay on until I went back home.”

The mention of home sobered Rhys up. “You’re going back to Atlanta?”

Glancing down at the table, I sighed. “I guess I’m just a big baby. I miss my parents and my friends. I even miss my dog, Toby. Most of all, it’s hard not being able to see the twins whenever I want to.”

“But that will change when we go out on tour.”

“I know,” I murmured.

Reaching across the table, Rhys took my hand. “It’s okay to be homesick, Allison.”

“It shows a total lack of character strength not to be able to embrace difficulties and challenges.”

“Bullshit.”

I couldn’t help my brows shooting up at his word choice. But then I shook my head. “Oh really? I bet you’re never homesick,” I challenged.

Sadness flickered in his eyes, and instantly, I regretted my words. “There has never really been much of a home here for me. You don’t really bond with your parents when it’s your nanny who dries your tears after a nightmare or sits by your bedside when you’re sick. When I was far too young, I got shuttled off to boarding schools where I only came home on the weekends. Then I moved to Atlanta for college and now I live on and off of a tour bus.” Running his fingertip over the rim of his wine glass, he said, “There’s really never been a home for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It is what it is. So while it’s true I don’t really get homesick, there are times I long for Savannah. I get homesick for my nanny, Trudie, for the familiar landmarks, and most of all, for my sister.”

Latching on to the mention of his secretive sister, I quickly said, “I hope to get to meet her while you’re here.”

Refusing to look at me, Rhys stared at his wineglass, lost in thought. “Maybe,” he finally murmured.

I didn’t have to look at his watch again to know I had to go. As if sensing my need, Rhys jerked his gaze to mine and grabbed his phone. “I’ll get us a cab, so you can make it home quicker.”

“Thank you,” I replied, as Rhys began texting furiously.

After motioning the waiter over for the check, Rhys reached his hand in his pocket for his wallet. When he started to hand the envelope with his card in it to the waiter, I shook my head. “No, please, I can pay for my own,” I protested.

Rhys shook his head. “I told you earlier I would treat you to dinner, and I meant it.” With a wink, he added, “What kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed you to pay?”

“The kind who believes in women’s equality and Dutch treat?”

“Not when it comes to you, my love.”

That statement combined with the tender expression on Rhys’s face caused a shudder to ripple through me. “Okay, fine then. But when we do movie night, I’m covering dinner. Okay?”

As Rhys rose up from his chair, he grinned. “Will it be Penis Pizza? Because I’ll totally let you buy me some of that.”

I laughed. “Yes, it will.” Wagging my brows, I added, “I’ll make sure you get an extra-large slice of sausage, too.”

Rhys’s eyes bulged at my comment. As we started out of the restaurant, he shook his head. “Not quite the sweet and innocent little Allison I used to know, huh?”