Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“Then what’s wrong, Van?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I start, before letting out a loud sigh. “It’s just…Rhys.”
“What about him?” she presses.
“I don’t know what’s going through his mind,” I admit. “Earlier I spoke to him at the songwriting session…and he was so pissed off over you. He thought that we were already hooking up, and it was like…there was just this dragon fire behind his eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him get that way over a girl before, Alyssa. And I guess I’m just worried about how he might respond.”
“How he might respond?” she repeats. “What do you mean? Like, do you think he’ll try to beat you up or something?”
I chuckle at her assumption. “No, nothing violent, nothing like that. I’m way more worried about him doing something drastic like…quitting the band in protest.”
“You think he might quit the band?” Alyssa frowns. “Really? But we’re just starting to do so well. Concerts are great, and we’re getting an album together. There’s too much at stake for us. Besides, you guys have been together for years—”
“And for all of those years, Rhys always got his way,” I explain. “He’s not used to someone else getting the girl, or even the possibility that a woman would choose someone like me over someone like him.”
“That’s kind of funny,” Alyssa muses. “You’re talking like you’re both on opposite ends of some spectrum.”
“You don’t think we are?”
“Not. At. All.” Alyssa chuckles. “I think all of you are just three different dimensions of the same circle or something. You belong together. You make sense together. And I can’t imagine how shitty our band would be if a single one of you split off from the other ones. The circle would collapse.”
“Well, if we’re three different dimensions of the same circle or something,” I reply, “I think that makes you the…fourth dimension? I don’t know. I don’t know if that even makes sense.” I smile over at her before I go on. “But you really are the missing piece, Alyssa Smith. I don’t think we would’ve ever gotten out of the studio if it weren’t for you. We sure as hell would’ve never been working on putting together a debut album.”
“I think you guys would’ve gotten around to it, eventually.” She beams at me in return. “Or maybe not. You definitely have the talent for it. I just don’t know if Rhys would’ve ever made it to enough recording sessions on time to actually finish all the songs for a full album.”
We share a conspiratorial laugh as Alyssa takes a small sip of the red wine in her glass. The color of the wine seems to match the color of her burgundy cocktail dress and toenail polish perfectly, her strappy high heels scattered a few floor tiles from us. She’d practically pulled the heels off as soon as we’d made it to the rooftop, her frustration with the footwear palpable from the moment she’d slipped the heels on in the hotel room. She looks great in them, but the girl belongs in sneakers.
A few moments later and I open my mouth to add something else to the conversation, wanting to throw out a flirty line about peeling Alyssa out of her cocktail dress when we go back to the room tonight, but I’m soon interrupted by a sudden sound from somewhere right behind me, like someone just stumbled onto the rooftop.
I turn my head to see where the noise is coming from, and my eyes go wide with surprise when I spot Rhys on the rooftop too, an acoustic guitar gripped in his hands. His attention is fully on Alyssa, and I let out an annoyed groan, an embarrassed knot in my stomach already forming on Rhys’s behalf.
Because I know where this is going.
“Alyssa Smith,” Rhys starts as he walks up to her, his fingers running over a few of his guitar’s strings. “I know you might not want anything to do with me, but I couldn’t let another moment pass us by without telling you how I feel—”
“Please, don’t,” she pleads. “Rhys, you don’t have to do this—”
“I wrote you something, okay?” Rhys continues, seeming to ignore me completely. “And I just…I want you, no—I need you—to hear it.”
Rhys takes in a deep breath before his fingers begin to deftly move across his strings, the melody not terribly unique but still sounding heartfelt and lilting, something that might work with the right singer attached to its lyrics.
♫ Alyssa, Alyssa, Alyssa ♫
♫ Are you going to hate me forever? ♫
♫ Do you really not remember ♫
♫ The way you looked me at me from across the room? ♫
♫ It’s gotta come to a head soon ♫
♫ And I’m not saying I love you ♫
♫ I’m just saying that you’re the kind of girl ♫
♫ Who I want by my side, side, side ♫