More Than Words: Kissed By A Muse #3 by S.K Munt Page B

story I’m about to tell you about Ryan and I will ensure that, believe me.’
    Bruce looked her up and down. ‘It’s gonna have to be pretty fucked up to put me off, missy.’
    Leigh laughed and opened the door, shrugging into her thin black linen jacket. ‘It’s seventy-nine shades of messed-up, baby.’
    Bruce paused on the porch, smiling thinly. ‘Why seventy-nine and not fifty?’
    ‘Because that’s how many times I’ve read the book about Ryan.’ She said, and then laughed at his shocked expression. ‘Go, go- it’s a story I’d rather tell you before he gets home, eh?’
    Bruce hurried to his car.
     
    Ryan
     
    She wasn’t in the house when he got home, but her scent was everywhere, and strong enough to tell him that he’d missed her by maybe ten minutes, tops. Ryan trotted down to Imogen’s room and blinked when he saw that she’d left it in disarray- cosmetics were strewn everywhere, as were the clothes she’d been wearing, along with a wet towel, and to his dismay- her glasses.
    Argh! She got dressed up for him? What the fuck, Leigh?
    Ryan picked up Leigh’s glasses and then sighed, sinking down onto her bed with them and staring around the room dejectedly. His caveman self wanted to take off after her and throw himself between her and Bruce’s bodies like a human shield, but her review danced across his mind, gently reminding him that she’d fallen for a character who was too confident to play such adolescent games- a character who gave the girl space when it was clear that that was what she needed most.
    Leigh was a reader, and like musicians, readers and writers needed the space to vanish when the real world got too intense. The day before, when his lust for her had had him climbing the walls, he’d locked himself in his studio and had played it out and Leigh had let him do so without interrupting. Now, she needed to play- to be light and have fun and for a few hours after having being trapped in his windowless world for days- and he had to grant her that.
    It also can’t hurt to have her hanging out with a guy who’s not as built, handsome, talented or fucking cocky as me for a while… hmm… maybe this date with Bruce will have her showing up at my gig and begging to play pretend again?
    Smiling, and remembering that he had three very important things to do before he saw Leigh again and therefore could use the time-out as well, Ryan leaned over to open the small drawer in Leigh’s bedside table to put her glasses away. The drawer stuck at first, its peeling paint and rusty rails catching, but he pulled a little harder and it gave almost too quickly. Ryan caught the drawer before it could fall to the floor, and his eyes widened when he saw a hardcover edition of The Hardest Fall nestled within it, taking up all the room and leaving none for Leigh’s glasses.
    ‘Wow… you really made yourself at home, baby-doll…’ Ryan drawled, pushing the drawer back into its gap but picking up the book, toying with the idea of leaving a note inside the cover for her. ‘Don’t suppose you’d like to stay for forty years or so?’ He had the tip of Leigh’s glasses clenched loosely between his teeth so that when he spoke, his voice came out sounding old-world academic. He smiled and pushed the glasses onto his face, then immediately groaned and pulled them off when the blurriness made his head pound, threatening a migraine.
    No wonder she thought I was a hallucination! She can’t see shit!
    Ryan opened the book and blinked, trying to get his eyes to stop dilating wildly- but then he saw the small sheath of papers nestled within the front cover, and an odd feeling travelled up his spine. It was wrong to be going through her stuff, but suddenly, he wasn’t so sure that it was Leigh’s stuff anymore, because the bookmark on top of everything was one of Imogen’s bookmarks- a very old, very yellowed cloth one depicting one of the early editions of Black Beauty, which had been Imogen’s favorite