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I led her to the bus that I shared with Knox and Ryder, which I knew would be empty. One of the security guards who remained outside the venues to guard the buses and trailers took note of us. I also knew that Bishop was probably following behind us, but I didn’t want to bother Remi with all that.
I pressed the button to open the bus door from the outside and gestured for Remi to head inside. She stopped, and I held my breath, wondering if she’d actually get on. For a moment, we just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes, the world around us fading into oblivion.
After an obvious hesitation, she sighed and then climbed onto the bus. It was dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere that had been absent from the raucous party we’d left behind.
“Have a seat,” I said, gesturing to the couch while I grabbed us both a drink from the fridge. Handing her a beer bottle, I took a sip of my own, savoring the cool liquid before diving into conversation.
Remi took a seat on one of the plush couches, her fingers nervously drumming against her thigh. I sat down across from her, leaning back and trying to exude an air of relaxation.
“So, tell me about life outside of work, Remi. What do you like to do when you’re not chasing after rock stars?”
She raised an eyebrow, clearly wary of opening up too much. “I don’t know, Ghost. That seems awfully personal.” Her gaze flickered between me and the door as if contemplating an escape route.
“Ah, but that’s the point,” I countered, flashing her a disarming smile. “It’s part of my therapy, you see. I’m required to interview every woman I meet for at least fifteen minutes.”
“Really?” she questioned, squinting at me suspiciously.”I didn’t realize therapy could be so entertaining.”
“Only when it involves beautiful women,” I quipped, feeling a thrill at the blush that crept up her cheeks.
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, her shoulders losing some of their tension. We sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of our unspoken thoughts pressing down on us.
“Ghost,” she began, her voice soft and tentative. “Why did you really bring me in here?”
“Because I want to get to know you, Remi,” I answered honestly. “You’re not like the other people who hang around the band. You’re intelligent, perceptive, and I can’t help but feel drawn to you.”
My heart pounded as I laid my feelings bare, leaving myself vulnerable in a way I hadn’t been in years. The darkness outside the bus seemed to close in on us, amplifying the intimacy of our conversation. Remi’s eyes widened, her breath catching as she processed my words.
“Ghost,” she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Then let’s just talk,” I urged, desperate to break through her hesitation. “Tell me something about yourself, anything at all.”
“Fine,” she relented, taking a deep breath. “But after that, it’s your turn.”
Remi took a deep breath and began to share bits and pieces of her life outside of work. She loved photography, hiking, and had a weakness for political thrillers. As she spoke, I found myself genuinely intrigued by this woman who was so determined to maintain a professional facade but had a depth to her that I hadn’t expected.
“Alright, your turn,” she said, finishing her drink and crossing her arms. “What does the mysterious Ghost do when he’s not rocking out on stage?”
I stretched out my long legs. “Hmm. Let’s see. I’m usually writing lyrics or playing guitar.”
She tucked her silky hair behind her ear. “That doesn’t count. Give me something non-music related.”
I thought for a moment while I got us two new drinks. “Well, I like to work out. I’ve been going to this rock-climbing gym near my place in L.A., but sometimes I get recognized. I’m hoping to get good enough where I can do some real climbing outdoors.”
“I can tell you work out. You must need a lot of stamina … to perform, uh, on stage.” Even in the dim light, I could see the blush staining her cheek. It was cute.
“Yes, I’ve got a lot of stamina.” I winked at her. “I can perform all night long.”
She looked down at her hands clenched in her lap. “What else do you do for fun?”
I ticked off a few items with my fingers. “I’m pretty decent at poker. Let’s see, I like to go snowboarding and kayaking. Lately, I’ve been learning all I can about investing. I’ve been taking some internet classes.”
“Wow,” she murmured, clearly impressed. “I never would have guessed that about you, Ghost.”
As our conversation continued, I felt the barriers between us slowly crumbling. The more we revealed about ourselves, the more I found myself drawn to this enigmatic woman who had entered my life so unexpectedly. And for the first time in a long while, I began to hope that perhaps there was a chance for a meaningful connection beyond the bright lights and deafening noise of the stage.
Despite doing dozens of 15-minute interviews over the years at Maggie’s behest, I’ve never felt more comfortable talking to another person. I didn’t feel adrift and so disconnected from Remi like I normally did. Usually, other people seemed like utter alien beings that I had trouble relating to. With Remi, it felt like we actually connected.
Maybe the recent breakthroughs I’d had in therapy had opened me up, allowing me to let other people in. It was an interesting thought, something I was sure to discuss with Maggie the next time I spoke with her.
