at my hands like they were aliens.
“Definitely a musical ninja, Red,” Ryder agreed with a smirk on his lips.
“Yes!” Phoenix exclaimed suddenly. “The ginger ninja…. the Ginga Ninja!”
I burst into laughter. The ginga ninja? Was he serious?
“We’ll make t-shirts,” Phoenix continued, bouncing on his toes. He was like a human version of Tigger. “You can thank me later.”
A loud buzzing interrupted our laughter and Phoenix looked up sharply at me and then swiveled his head to Ryder. “I’ll get it,” he announced. “It’s probably just Hayden and Cole.”
Before Ryder could remind him this was his house, Phoenix disappeared out the door and into the stairwell.
“Don’t you have a button up here to let them in?” I asked with my eyes on the door.
“They probably need help with their equipment,” Ryder explained. His hand on mine again drew my attention back to him. When I faced him he wasn’t laughing anymore, his expression completely serious. “I like it when you laugh, Ivy,” he admitted in a low voice.
I stood there breathless and frozen. His gaze delved into mine, capturing it, holding it hostage and the heat from his hand scorched my skin wherever it touched me. The keyboard still separated us, but that was the only thing separating us. Other than physical contact, I felt completely drawn into him, Ryder, like he encapsulated all of me, every hidden, secret part of me. And I was helpless against him.
No.
I chose to be helpless. I wanted this.
Wanted him.
Which was crazy. These feelings were crazy. If Ryder had feelings for me there was only one explanation for them. The curse. Always the curse. And even if I could make arguments day and night to why he had never been affected by it before, the truth was that I would always doubt myself. Always. If I acted on my own feelings and there happened to be something between us, I would never be able to trust it.
I would never be able to trust him.
There would never be a way to know that his attachment to me was not because of the curse.
And so I needed to stamp these thoughts and feelings down immediately. If not sooner. If not yesterday….
His tongue ran across his bottom lip, and his gaze dropped to my mouth. I just talked myself out of this, so I should move.
Now, I should move now.
My breath returned to my chest in fast, heavy pants. My chin tilted up without my permission, like a sunflower to the sun.
Ryder’s gaze heated to desire, his lids hooded, his mouth opened. He leaned forward, we were just inches apart. Just three inches…. “Ivy, I-“
The door to the apartment exploded open with the sounds of banging equipment and three loud boys laughing about something completely grotesque. Ryder and I broke apart immediately, his hand removed from mine, his attention back to his guitar. We avoided each other’s gazes and my blush was definitely back.
I might like this band thing.
I might like this circle of friends.
But that could never happen again.
Ever.
Except when I caught Ryder looking at me not four seconds later, I quickly remembered that you were never supposed to say never….
Chapter Twenty-Six
I followed the sheet music religiously. It was the only way I knew how to play. To be honest, it was a bit embarrassing that I didn’t have the creative ingenuity to just improvise. Especially when that seemed to be what everyone else was doing.
Especially Ryder.
I knew he was talented, but he didn’t have to be the smart kind of talented that made everyone else feel stupid.
I took private lessons for thirteen years. Thirteen.
He apparently picked up his dad’s guitar at twelve and turned into a prodigy.
Ugh.
“I can’t do this,” I grumbled at the end of the millionth play through. It was this melancholy ballad with a pretty piano melody that played above everything else. Ryder’s voice sang rough and raw about a lonely girl with eyes that saw everything and a heart that felt nothing.
As soon as Ryder started singing the lyrics I shot him a sharp look, but he shook his head to deny it. Since then I had been living in a world I liked to refer to as blissfully ignorant. Although, others might have called it denial. Still, if he said it wasn’t about me, then who was I to disagree? Also, I didn’t want to be the girl he was singing about. She sounded sad, and alone and…. empty.
And I wasn’t empty.
Mostly, I was just…. afraid.
Of so many things.
“You were better