Turn The Page (Kissed by A Muse Book 2) (6 page)

‘That’s why you’ve been so nice to me?’ Leigh interrupted, lifting her eyes to his. ‘Because you wanted to ask me out?’

Bruce stared at her for a second, looking like he was in two minds about how to respond, but eventually he sighed and held up his hands in a helpless gesture. ‘You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met,’ the words were powerful, and the accent slayed her. ‘I couldn’t be anything BUT nice to you but yes, I’ve been hovering because I wanted to see you again.’

‘Me?’ Leigh scratched her damp hair, moving it until it covered the small zit she’d seen forming near her temple after her shower and feeling incredibly self-conscious. She was used to people hovering around her because something about her apparently begged her to be babied, not because they found her sexy. Pretty, perhaps. Striking maybe- but sexy? No. ‘You sure you don’t mean like, um… unusual?’

‘No.’ Bruce cupped his coffee and looked at her with frank interest- interest so blatant that she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t noticed it before. ‘I’m going to level with you, Leigh; asking out guests is a big hotel no-no, and I can understand why, so if I’m crossing a line here, feel free to report me because I deserve it.’ He smiled apologetically at her. ‘But I don’t know how to not ask you out, and I’m going to run out of excuses to fuss over you now that you’ve found your stuff so…’ he blew out his breath and shrugged. ‘I’m asking you out- employee of the month be damned. You name the night and I’ll show you the real Niagara- and a good time.’

Leigh sat back in the chair and scratched her head. At a loss for how to respond. Maybe he could use ‘sexy’ as a noun for her now, but that was going to change once he actually got to know her. ‘Bruce…’

He groaned. ‘That is not an encouraging start to an answer…’

She laughed. ‘I haven’t even started yet!’

‘I’m sorry- I’m just nervous…. I babble when I’m nervous.’

Leigh lifted her eyebrows. ‘Seriously?’ She held up the hem of her dress. ‘No… seriously? This is making you nervous?’ Bruce nodded and Leigh chuckled. ‘I don’t know. I mean, you seem really nice, and I was always partially team Jasper… but…’

He glanced over at her, his expression both hopeful and terrified. ‘But…?’

‘I don’t really date,’ she said finally, squirming. ‘I mean, I go through the motions of meeting people but…’ she winced, knowing that if she admitted the truth: ‘No one compares to the fictional men I take to bed every night,’ she wouldn’t have a date offer left to turn down, because he’d flee, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to flee just yet so she finished with: ‘It never goes anywhere.’

Bruce turned back to her, cocking his head. ‘Well, of course it doesn’t, or you’d be here on a honeymoon like everyone else, and my ex wouldn’t be selling my Harry Potter box set on E-bay right now... But it only has to go the right way once, doesn’t it?’

‘Harry Potter box set? Books or movies?’

‘The movies. There was no way that I was leaving my book set in that psycho’s hands!’

Leigh smiled, wondering if he could see the approval in her eyes. He read! He read middle-grade fantasy she’d never cottoned to, but it was something.

‘Oh my god… I don’t think a woman’s ever taken this long to accept a drink offer in history…’ Bruce complained, regarding her with desperate eyes. Leigh laughed again, thinking of Anne and Gilbert and how long he had waited. She wanted a man like that- a love like that- but that was a pretty tall order for a holiday fling to fill.

‘I want to say yes, I really do,’ she assured him. ‘I just worry about your expectations.’

‘Because you’re only here for a week?’ Bruce shrugged. ‘I don’t mind. I’m a bit of a romantic, and an incurable optimist and so, for the right girl… the right connection...’

Leigh exhaled heavily, wondering if she was making a big mistake by even contemplating going out with a guy so… insistent. ‘Okay, here’s the thing…’ she bit her lip. ‘I’ll say yes, but first you should probably know… there won’t be any coffee offers, in the uh, offing.’

Bruce raised one eyebrow, and it was so hot, that it was Bond. ‘Australian to Canuck translation?’

Leigh’s cheeks heated. ‘I don’t invite men up to my hotel room.’ She took a sip from her coffee and smiled in a way that she knew resembled someone smushing her face up against a pane of glass. ‘I never have before- ever. And I don’t plan on it… until we both own the coffeepot, if you catch my drift.’

Bruce’s mouth fell open.

Five

L
eigh awoke to the brightest morning she’d ever known and immediately groaned and pressed her hands into her eyes, trying to block out the morning glare bouncing off the falls and the gleaming roof tops beneath her window, and making the veins behind her eyes glow bright red.

‘Oh man…’ Leigh didn’t need to open her eyes to know that she had a hangover, because she could feel the gentle pulse in her temples. And not just a hangover from the bottle of champagne she’d finished while re-reading The Count Of Monte Christo during her second soak in the hot tub either, but a morning-after-embarrassment hangover, complete with sunburned cheeks and a fluttering in her stomach.

Did all of that really happen? Fake Ryan’s and screaming matches? Broken devices and skipped blog entries? Flashing my ass at a guy on the wrong side of his amnesia? Having coffee with the concierge in my suite and agreeing to have something stronger outside of it? What the hell, Leigh? And you thought you wasted yesterday? You lived three lives in a few hours!

Leigh grudgingly got up to have a bath, and at first, she did so leisurely- washing her hair thoroughly and rinsing it lazily under the faucet instead of going over to the shower, and even picked up the copy of Monte Christo that she’d nabbed at the flea market in North Carolina for fifty cents, staring idly at it while she waited for her conditioner to work. But she’d left her reading glasses next to her bed and couldn’t focus on the words, so she turned on the television instead and clapped bubbly slaps when The Notebook blinked to forty-two inch life.

But despite how lovely and warm the bath was, the concept of relaxing became conceptual after only a few minutes, as a strange sense of urgency began to arise within her as her brain slowly woke up and began to tick over too fast for Noah Wyle’s poetic words to make her heart ache. This was day two in Niagara, and it was already half past eight, which meant that she only had less than twelve hours to do what she wanted to do, before Bruce picked her up for their date. She didn’t have a minute to waste!

Alert, Leigh splashed and clambered her way out of the spa, towelled herself off, slapped on the macadamia and honey moisturiser that came with the fancy toiletries rather than digging up her own, and then rifled through her suitcase while naked and shivering, instead of getting more mileage out of her robe.

What can I wear that says: ‘Accidentally sexy but don’t get any funny ideas’ to the concierge, but: ‘I don’t want you and here’s some hard truths’ to the guy who thinks that I want to him to see me as sexy? While looking gorgeous, grown-up, above him- and effortlessly sexy, of course?

Leigh groaned, pulling out clothes one by one and writing off every combination, before settling on her favourite skinny blue jeans, her black leather boots, which slouched and bunched to her calves, and a black sleeveless turtleneck that made her bust look bigger than it was, without showing any needy cleavage. She added a black leather belt to drape low on her hips and hide some of her bow-leggedness that her mother swore was in her head, telling herself that she didn’t have the rock-god on her mind when she chose the only studded thing she owned, and then towel-dried her hair before pulling it up into a high ponytail. She even added a bit of make up afterwards, and by the time she had her glasses on and her things re-packed, she was able to look into the mirror with a small smile of approval, and nod at the slightly preppy, slightly hip and slightly nerdy blonde squinting back at her.

I’ll never be Vogue, but vague suits me just fine!

Leigh turned away from her reflection before she could compare herself to the ethereal, boho and uber -stylish heroine from the novel she’d come to connect with. She would have liked to have the kind of willowy figure that suited the floaty, low cut and sophisticated dressed that Kylie had worn in The Hardest Fall, but that wasn’t her, and even if she’d been built like a dancer/ runway model, Leigh didn’t know how to braid very well, and her hair would never stay in a bun, boho or not.

Besides, it’s FREEZING here, and windy! No way would Kylie have been wearing open dresses and heels while she flitted about the falls and fell in love with Ryan! You lied, Kathryn Praser, but you stole my heart with that lie, so I forgive you...

Once she was dressed, Leigh took a few minutes to carefully re-pack her bag, making sure that she’d put everything back and in order, before tidying up the suite. It was quarter past nine by the time she was done, but she felt collected again- and her excitement had returned too.

Humming to herself and avoiding making eye- contact with the expensive breakfast menu, Leigh reached for the iPad next and unwrapped it before plugging it into the weird socket in the wall, no adapter required because the plug that had come with it was the American kind. It booted up quickly, and she clapped her hands together when the Internet bars blinked to life.

‘Data included! Thank you not-Ryan!’ Leigh immediately pulled up Safari and logged into her blog, her breath catching when she saw how many impatient and borderline-angry messages she had, before switching to her Facebook. She quickly typed a reassurance to her mother, mentioning then fact that she had her passport back and all was well and that she’d call after she’d seen some sights, copied and pasted the same: ‘I am SO sorry to keep you hanging but you would not believe what I’ve been through!’ message to the fans she knew only as fans, and then updated her status to: ‘Oops guys! I’ve been so lost in the beauty of this place and my suite that I forgot about my actual life! More later- after I get lost in a mall and find an iPad to replace the one I dropped!’ with a sad emoticon after it, followed by a happy one to demonstrate her hopelessness and optimism for a less taxing day.

When Facebook was handled, Leigh went back to her blog and typed a quick entry, glancing up at the clock every now and then and groaning when she saw how quickly the McSeconds were ticking by.

‘Hey guys! Salutations from Niagara Falls! I know you’re ready to un-subscribe thanks to my poor work ethic but I beg of you, hang in there! This has been a wild ride indeed, in fact, since the moment I stepped off the bus; I’ve been wondering if going over the falls in a barrel would have been less exciting than what I’ve endured!

There’s way too much to get into now- I seriously need a McMuffin and my window to get to the mall and acquire one is now only half an hour wide, but stay tuned for an incredibly embarrassing, eye-rolling, curse-spitting tale of woe, that’ll have you in stitches. Want some hints? Okay, you talked me into it!

Well, the first person I met when I got off the bus yesterday was a fantastically beautiful, blue-eyed street musician named Ryan Weaver, and before I went to sleep last night, I had scored a date! Are these two things mutually exclusive, you ask? Sigh- no unfortunately. I’m afraid that Ryan Weaver would sooner stuff me into a barrel and push me off the frothy precipice than ask out the girl who went all screechy on him, but on the upside… there are equally sexy fish swimming about Niagara River and I have plans with one tonight! Squee! (Yes mum, he’s employed, has good teeth and manners.)

I really do have to go, BUT, as soon as I replace the iPad I dropped when I caught sight of Ryan and lost all muscle control, I swear I’ll divulge all the gritty and horrifically embarrassing details. Mother, avert your eyes, because it includes an anecdote about nineteenth century bonnets, my bare butt, and a noise complaint! Stranger than fiction- that’s been my reality here. Now, off to see what disasters this day will bring! Leigh Dallas-Hone, out.

Grinning at her own hopelessness after re-reading the entry, Leigh hit ‘post’ and then switched from Word Press to the app store, pulling up the Amazon Kindle app and feeling her heart palpitate when the little circle began to blink in its download way. Why tell Ryan, when she could let him read about himself- himself?

*

The new room was lovely- almost identical to the one upstairs, but without the spa and extra television, and with less space and trimmings. She even had a view of the falls still- just on more of an angle, but that worked for her too, because there had been less glare coming off the white water and blinding her.

Leigh immediately began to regret making a date with Bruce, for he called three times while she was unpacking her stuff, first offering her a complimentary breakfast, and then pleading with her twice to let him make the arrangements to keep her in the fancier room. It was exhausting, but she stood her ground, told him she’d see him later that evening, pleaded with the gods silently that he’d leave her alone until then and then allowed him to call her a cab to take her to the outlet mall.

Leigh finished her Burger King breakfast as she stood at the counter of a huge electronics warehouse and haggled a new iPad down to five hundred dollars, CA. She hadn’t allowed her guilty conscience to come between her and her selection of the newest, fastest model because it was much cheaper than it would have been back home, and even though she hadn’t earned a free one from Ryan, she knew she’d definitely earned one for herself. She bought a temporary sim card loaded with data and was setting the iPad up as she perused the other stores within the same wing without venturing off the grid. It seemed like a shopping paradise of sorts, and though Leigh handed over twenty bucks at the Guess outlet for a tight-fitting red tee with the brand spelled across the front in brushed, metallic paint, her interest in shopping was minimal. After all, she had a town to explore, a boat to catch and a hottie’s mind to blow- and no pair of half price boots could quell her excitement for those activities. Well, except for the hottie part. The view was going to be scenic sure, but the terrain was bound to be treacherous. What on earth was she going to say to him? How would she start?

Once she’d had her fill of window-shopping, premature tinsel decorations and corny carols, Leigh caught a curry-scented cab back to the promenade by the falls. It dropped her off right in front of the Maid Of The Mist depot, and on the curry-scented cab driver’s advice, she went right inside and bought herself a ticket for the next departing boat, grinning like the foolish tourist she was beneath the façade of the roaming reader. Leigh hadn’t intended to jump on one of the famous tour boats like cattle, but now that she was there, amidst it all, the desire to follow the road well travelled was impossible to ignore. Besides, she still had five and a half days to start visiting the hot spots from The Hardest Fall- so there was no rush.

Leigh strolled idly along the parkway as she cuddled her hardcover edition of Kathryn Praser’s novel and daydreamed about her Ryan, Justin and Kylie walking those same steps. She stroked the glossy, worn cover lovingly with her fingers as she walked, tracing the textured surface. It was a very simple cover: a waterfall that was more conceptual than photographic. Almost the entire thing was deep, navy blue, near to black, and streaked with differing shades of blue in places until the bottom of the page, which was frothed like churning water. The title was printed in the middle in metallic silver, simple lettering, and the author’s name was at the bottom in the same font, but half the size.

There was more to the cover than just the falls though, only one had to look very closely to see the way that the water at the bottom was alive with faded, silvery squiggles that was twisted sheet music. Music was the underlying theme of the entire book- Kylie had been a dancer who was the daughter of a rock star and her romantic interests, Ryan and Justin, had been musicians as well. Both men had loved her, and she’d loved them both in return and over the course of their young lives, she’d had a relationship with each at differing times, though she’d always been more attracted to Ryan, but closer to Justin.

In the end and before she could make her choice, Kylie had turned out to have a severe heart condition requiring a compatible donor, and Ryan had killed himself and left his to her in his living will when he’d sensed that she was going to end up with his more talented, outgoing and vibrant friend. She had undergone the operation, unaware that Ryan was gone until she woke up to a grieving Justin at her bedside, and a new heart that was broken the second she understood what they had both lost.

The Hardest Fall was a tearjerker, and had broken the hearts of a lot of people. It had broken Leigh, time and time again, but it was the sweetest pain she had ever known. And now, as she traced her fingers over the embossed music notes, she realised that although she’d been scared of confronting Ryan with the book and learning, or divulging, the truth behind his name and the connection to her favourite love story in case he blew up, broke down or laughed at her- there was no need for her to be taking it all so personally. If he knew, well, that didn’t change a thing about the book- but if he didn’t know, then telling him could change his life.

The falls were just as loud, and the day was just as windy and bright as it had been when she’d arrived the afternoon before, but Leigh had dressed for the algid weather this time and felt much more at ease out in the elements. She’d left the mittens in the suitcase where they belonged, and though her fingers were cold and stiff after just five minutes out in the autumn morning breeze, she had more motor skills that way than she had with the alternative, and she felt composed and ready to handle anything.

Leigh checked the time on the delicate pocket watch that her parents had given her for her eighteenth birthday, and nodded when she confirmed that she had over forty minutes left until her boat left. She tucked the locket back into the high collar of her top (Leigh had taken to clipping the watch to her bra as she didn’t always wear clothes that had pockets) and then stuffed her ticket deep into the zippered section of her oversized handbag, and was wondering whether she should try and seek Ryan out straight away, or sit down and catch up with her blog on the grassy knoll running parallel to the crowded footpath when she heard it: Turn The page, the Metallica version, sang by a much more melodic voice than any who had covered it before had ever possessed.