The Rush (The Siren Series) - By Rachel Higginson Page 0,96

that time,” Ryder called encouragingly after the last notes of the song drifted off to nothing. “You were uh, more on time.”

I blushed immediately, a deep red that painted my skin. I could feel the heat in my face and across my collar bone, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I wasn’t used to being bad at something. “This is so different than what I’m used to.”

“You’re doing really well, Ivy. Ryder’s a bastard,” Phoenix encouraged from behind his drums. His hairline and the collar of his shirt were damp with sweat but he never stopped twirling his drum sticks. If he wasn’t throwing his entire body into the song, then he twirled them between his long fingers while he waited for the next one to start. He looked extra gangly perched upon the tiny drum stool, but this was exactly his element, exactly where I could tell he felt most alive.

“Thanks Phoenix,” I smiled at him and his whole face lit up. The curse was extra hard to control when music was involved, but these guys seemed to be Ok. Besides, all my frustration and failure probably obscured whatever elevated affects swirled around in the air.

“I didn’t mean that you weren’t doing well, Red,” Ryder immediately put in and I could tell he felt bad for all of his “helpful” tips that had been fraying my nerves for the last two hours. “I was just trying to say that was the best you’ve sounded. I get that this isn’t easy for you.”

“It’s fine, Ryder,” I offered politely. “I get that this is your thing. I don’t want to mess it up for you. But I did tell you this would be a problem. I won’t be offended if you guys don’t want me after all.”

“We want you,” Hayden piped up quickly. “Ivy, I want you at least.”

Ugh, that so sounded like an innuendo coming from him.

“Creep much, Hayd?” Cole grunted. I could tell Cole was just as interested in me as Hayden was, but his shy nature and quiet personality kept him from turning into stalker material.

“Shut it, Cole,” Hayden grumbled.

“Why don’t you both shut up and leave her alone?” Phoenix’s voice rose above both of them.

Ok, and this was my cue to leave.

“Actually, I have to get home before my curfew,” I announced cavalierly. “Sorry to break up practice.”

Everyone kind of gave a whine of disappointment but backed away from the fight that was about to break out. Well, everyone except Ryder sounded disappointed. I chanced a peek at him, but he was already looking at me, eyes narrowed, expression tense. His hand was half way through his hair and tugging at the roots.

“I’ll just take these,” I picked up the sheet music and then tapped them against the smooth top of the keyboard so they all lined up together. “I can practice at home on my real piano and hopefully next time…. uh, if there is a next time….”

After a long, awkward few moments of silence Ryder finally relieved my tension, “See what you can do at home and then we’ll try again in a few days. Maybe you and I can just get together and see if you can hear the guitar melody a bit better.”

“Sure, sounds great,” I smiled but there was no enthusiasm in my voice. Ryder had to have been able to tell, but he just kept looking at me like he was waiting for me to come clean about something.

The band began to pick up various pieces of equipment and instruments and pack them away. I glanced at the microwave clock in the kitchen desperate to be away from all this competitive testosterone, hating that these guys felt a contest over me and then hating that I felt disappointed Ryder wasn’t trying to join in.

I stood awkwardly outside of the practice area, since I didn’t know how to put anything away and my only task was picking up my sheet music. I tried not to stare at the band, but it was difficult. They were kind of fascinating with how much care they took with each piece of equipment or how cruel they were to each other… but in a funny, happy way.

Boys. They were so different from girls.

I felt like I was a National Geographic photographer observing like African lions in their natural habitat. Honestly all I needed was a pair of cargo khakis and a British accent.

The male drummer turns to face his natural enemy the male