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When he finally settled, Rhys lay facing her, the shadows cast from the streetlight outside making his features sharper, like glass, that made her want to get her sketchpad and draw Rhys as he slept...there was a beauty in the darkness that surrounded him.
Shay sighed, shaking herself from her thoughts and ironically she would have laughed considering her attraction to Rhys. But this wasn’t exactly how she fantasied having a rockstar in her bed.
ChapterFourteen
Rhys
Rhys woke in an unfamiliar bed,stretching out his long limbs as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Memories of yesterday came back to haunt him. Jesus, had he really been so pathetic that he had called up Shay and asked her to come get him because he was such a sad mess?
Rolling out of the bed, Rhys slipped on his shoes and grabbed his tee from where he had thrown it last night, yanking it over his head as he emerged from the bedroom to see Shay watching him with a careful expression. Although, she couldn’t mask the way her eyes wandered over him as he righted his tee and leaned against the counter.
“Hey.” He said in greeting then mentally cursed himself.
Hey? Smooth, asshole, very smooth.
Shay slid a mug over to him, then popped two slices of bread into the toaster. “I’m not much of a cook so toast is what you get. Cathal tried to teach me but the food I can cook doesn’t extend to breakfast.”
Shay smiled as she said it, looking at him with dark eyes as Rhys lifted his mug to lips, his own eyes subtly roaming over the slim but curvy woman. Her skin was pale, a stark contrast to her black hair, which was streaked with little strands of purple. The jeans she wore seemed like they had been moulded to her form and Rhys wondered if her ass would be firm in his grasp or soft.
Turning then and shielding her ass from his view, Shay folded her arms across her chest, pushing the perfect handfuls up, almost spilling from her string top. An array of tattoos was inked on her arms, dipping down underneath her clothing, and Rhys wanted to strip Shay so he could see what other ink she had hidden.
“Eyes to my face, rockstar.”
Rhys grinned as he did what he was told, offering a smile in apology, the flush to Shay’s skin making him consider she might have enjoyed his eyes on her. But that was a conversation for another day and Rhys had already made a fool of himself in the last twenty-four hours.
“Sorry.” He said, trying to look sheepish and that made Shay laugh and Rhys liked the sound of her laughter.
“You are not in the least bit sorry, Rhys Collins, so don’t act all sweet and innocent with me.” Shay plated the toast that had just popped and pushed it toward him, along with a knife and some butter. “Now eat your damn breakfast so you can’t complain I let you starve.”
Rhys proceeded to butter his toast, taking a bite as Shay walked around the counter and then hoisted herself up near him as she reached over and took a piece of his toast and ate it, shrugging when Rhys cocked a brow at her.
Shay was close enough for him to reach out and touch, the itch on his palms to do just that, and it took a fair amount of willpower to eat his toast and not act on his urge. She leaned back on her hands and regarded him, those dark brown eyes seemed to look into his soul.
“So, you want to talk about last night or are we just gonna ignore what happened?”
“Ignore it?” Rhys ventured, earning an eye roll from Shay.
“Listen,” she began, and Rhys knew she wasn’t about to bullshit him or placate him. “We can dance around the fact that you nearly ruined all the progress that you had achieved by putting yourself in a situation you should have been miles away from, or you can get it off your chest exactly what made you want to get blind ass drunk to forget.”
Rhys let loose a croak of laughter. “Damn, Shay, I can see why you rule Rebel Ink with an iron fist. I’m feeling like a jackass already. You could leave my balls where they are and save me some shred of dignity.”
The slow, sexy, smile that curved Shay’s very kissable lips made desire pool in Rhys stomach. “I think you’ll survive.”
Arching her brows in question, as if to tell Rhys she was waiting for him to go on, Rhys huffed out an exasperated breath. “It’s not a big deal. I had a fight with Declan. It’s par for the course at the moment, so ya... he said some things and so did I and we parted with him basically calling me a selfish prick, which isn’t a lie and I think I’m out of a job.”
Shay narrowed her gaze as she looked at him. “Declan won’t fire you. I mean, he can’t can he?”
Rhys shrugged, drinking more of his coffee before he responded. “Declan can do whatever the hell he wants. If he decides to walk, then Heartache Melody is over. His voice is gold. They can find another keyboard player. I’m replaceable. Dec’s not.”
For the longest moment, Shay just starred at him. Rhys edged a little closer, until their fingers were a ghost of a touch away, and when Shay spoke, Rhys didn’t want to imagine the huskier timbre of her tone.
“Why do you do that? Why do you run yourself down like that?”
“I’m not running myself down, Shay,” Rhys replied. “I’m just realistic to my place in the band. I play the keyboard. Declan and Jamie write the songs and Luna, her drums skills are second to none, she basically sells herself. Out of the four of us, I’m just the eye candy.”
His last remark was meant to elevate the seriousness of the conversation, but Shay was looking at him like she couldn’t believe a word he had just said or the fact that he actually believed it.
She tilted her chin up to look at him and it was like a magnet pulling Rhys to her, his hand cupping the side of her face as he lowered his face towards Shay’s lips. He felt the sharp intake of her breath against his skin.
