Turn The Page (Kissed by A Muse Book 2) (7 page)

Yet another song from the book’s playlist! Okay no, I have to go into this with my glasses polished and my brain switched on! How can all of the similarities between this amnesia patient and this novel be coincidental? It’s just not possible!

Leigh looked up, over the heads of the other tourists and the hawking locals, and actually groaned when she saw him on the incline of the grassy hill beneath the exact same tree that he’d stood under the day before. He was sitting this time though, his long legs folded Indian style, while he reclined back against what Leigh now understood was a Maple tree. Leigh narrowed her eyes at him resentfully for a moment, forgetting her empathy and loathing him for making her heartbeat fluctuate, just by existing! Who the hell had eyes with a hue so bright, that it was visible from twenty metres away, anyway? Guys in books, that was who- and people in costume with contacts. Liars! Pretenders!

I’ll have to check when I’m close enough, because if they’re contacts, I’ll be able to tell, won’t I? Hmm… might have to wrestle him down so I can check properly though...

Unaware of how his presence was melting the girl he couldn’t stand, Ryan strummed almost thoughtlessly while gazing up at the sky, looking as though he were trying to escape notice rather than wow the crowd like most other buskers, who tended to play with desperation in their eyes and strain in their throats. He was asking for change, without asking for anything, and people were responding. She hadn’t noticed the day before, because he’d stopped playing the moment he’d literally stepped into her picture, but now that she was approaching him slowly and from a distance, she realised that if she wanted to address him, she was going to have to push through a gaggle of admirers and fear froze her in place.

Oh my god! How am I going to do this? All of these people! Did I make a fool of myself in front of this many witnesses yesterday? And won’t I just ruin his life a little bit more if I interrupt his set by getting in his face?

Leigh looked from side to side, assessing the situation and losing her nerve when she saw the smiles on people’s faces as they watched Ryan play.

‘Lord, he’s gorgeous.’

‘What a voice!’

‘Best cover I’ve heard…’

‘Falls?’ A giggle. ‘What falls?’

Amen sister. I hate him for it but A-freaking-men!

Leigh looked back to Ryan and smiled tightly, knowing that there was no way that she was going to steal his thunder by striking him like lightning while he was doing so well. And she didn’t want to interrupt him anyway- his gravelly, sultry voice was doing the same thing to her as it was to everyone else only more intensely because he’d never been more Ryan Weaver than he was in that moment, and Leigh loved him the way a flawed human woman could never love a flawed human man in real life.

I don’t want to confront him- I want to enjoy him! I want to soak him up! I want to read Kathryn Praser’s words while I listen to Ryan’s voice! That’s not so crazy, is it? And now that I’ve let the bloggers know what a nutcase I am, I may as well give them a full report!

Leigh looked down at the book in her hands and felt a shiver of anticipation rush through her. She’d go sit somewhere, probably above him on the hill where he was unlikely to notice her, and read along to his music, stare at the falls when she was inclined to, and wait for her boat. Maybe he’d take a break and she’d get a chance to approach him, or if he didn’t, maybe he’d still be there with less of an audience when she returned from her tour. But if neither option panned out, she could always ask Bruce to help her track him down when he wasn’t working so that she could handle it in a less public setting, like she would have the night before, if only she’d known about the amnesia thing!

‘...Turn the page…’ the song faded out just as Leigh turned away, and she paused for a moment while she listened to his applause, waiting to see if he’d play on or maybe, take a break. But the fading notes of the Bob Seger song rose again, transforming into something else, and Leigh’s feet sprang roots that dug deeply into the grass beneath her feet when she recognised the tune. It had been mentioned in The Hardest Fall, but only in passing as Ryan’s favourite song, and that reference had been the catalyst for Leigh’s obsession to begin with, moving her from Team Justin, to Team Ryan only a few pages into the novel because his favourite song had been hers for as long as she could remember.

‘See the tree, how big it’s grown…’ Ryan began to sing softly and Leigh actually gasped, whirling around and pressing her hand to her lower stomach. He wasn’t! He couldn’t! Leigh’s eyes filled with tears, the kind of tears that she always developed when she heard so much of a note of that song played, and she must have been louder than she’d thought because a few people on either side of her stirred and turned, just as Ryan’s face lifted, and blue eyes caught hers and widened.

The music stopped yet again but this time, Leigh didn’t turn away because she couldn’t have moved if she tried. For a moment they just stood there, staring at each other, while all manner of accusations bubbled up in her throat, but were kept in check by the emotion choking her.

‘Well, well, well…’ Ryan drawled, looking back down at his guitar before beginning to strum the melody again. ‘She says she’s not a crazy fan and yet she can’t seem to stay away....’

Leigh’s heart clenched when she became aware of the fact that his audience was now hers, and her song was now in his possession, and he was using it to wound her. It couldn’t be a coincidence- none of it- and she was sick of swallowing her words, sick of being intimidated and awestruck by a man who could deflect his own gaze and attention so easily from the blah blonde who was of no import to him, even though he was ruining her life.

Whether he knew he was imitating Ryan Weaver or not no longer mattered, and her empathy for his condition had blown away like so many autumn-dried leaves. All that Leigh knew for certain was that Ryan Weaver had made his way into her story, not as the hero, but as the antagonist, and that it was time to do some serious editing before she lost the plot completely, and he destroyed her most beloved one for her, for good!

Lifting her chin, Leigh began to walk up the hill toward him, and when he looked up and continued to sing her favourite words with mirth in his eyes, tainting that too, Leigh decided to silence the siren- and pegged the book at his guitar, getting his hand and making the melody grate.

‘Dear Ryan!’ she snapped, almost losing her train of thought when she saw that his guitar case was closed, but the ground around him littered with change and notes- some really big ones. What kind of busking technique was that? ‘You suck!’

Ryan was supposed to sing the word ‘Honey’ next, but the word ‘Fuck!’ came out instead as he shook his wounded hand, and Leigh winced before adding:

‘Love from, your number one fan- who wouldn’t screw you or your potty mouth, for all the iPads in the world!’

‘What?’ Ryan’s face had turned red. ‘What is the matter with-’

‘Shut up.’ Leigh yanked his iPad out of her bag, charger and all, and rested it on top of his case much more carefully than she’d delivered her novel, which she now salvaged from his lap and thumped over his head. ‘That’s for murdering my favourite song AND my favourite book, you lying piece of shit!’

‘Ow!’ His hand went to his head as he jumped to his feet, and his expression was murderous. ‘What is the MATTER with you?’

‘You’ve got a kindle app on there- read what my problem is with you for yourself and then sort it out, before the next obsessive reader you meet is less like me, and more like Mark David Chapman!’ Leigh turned and marched away, raising her eyes to the slack-jawed crowd and smirking in triumph when they stood aside for her to pass through like she, itty-bitty, mousy and four-eyed Leigh Dallas-Hone, book-geek extraordinaire- actually made them nervous! Laughing, she pulled out her new iPad, opened up the web browser to her blog, logged in and immediately began to type as she walked.

Dear Bloggers, I just beat Ryan Weaver over the head with a copy of The Hardest Fall. That’s probably going to sound a bit odd to you but believe me when I say that it feels so right! Now I’m off to see the waterfalls up close and personal, and seriously contemplate switching to Team Justin!

Question of the day: What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done, for love of a book? Comment to make me feel better about myself!

Smiling, Leigh hit ‘Post’ and looked up just in time to spy Greta waddling down the incline, lighting a cigarette and glancing around with the keen interest of a busy-body, looking for someone’s day to ruin. Leigh swerved to the left and hid behind the trunk of another maple tree, grinning proudly.

Maybe her parents had stunted her growth but there, under the shade of the romantic tree, Leigh grew a little taller, even if she was a twenty-three year old woman playing hide and seek.

Six

L
eigh passed the next half an hour reading behind another maple tree removed from the most crowded section of the parkway. Her view of the falls was non-existent from up near the road, due to the lush gardens positioned between her and the river, but she wanted to be off the radar and so that meant surrendering her view of the main attraction.

After the first ten minutes had passed and no one had called out to her to give her hell about what she’d done to the musician, arrest her for book bashing, or assault her with a snotty tissue, Leigh felt her muscles unclench. She lay down on her side, propping herself up on her elbow and cradling her head in her palm, while her other hand turned the pages. She knew the story so well that the pages flipped as quickly as though rustled by a wind, and by the time she checked her watch and saw that she had only five more minutes left until she had to board The Maid Of The Mist, she’d read eleven chapters, and was up to the part where Kylie and Ryan went out on their first date.

Humming Bobby’s Goldsboro’s ‘Honey’ to wrestle its melody free from Ryan’s fresh vocal hold on it in her memory, Leigh closed the book, rose to her feet and stretched, feeling one hundred percent better about everything. Now that she had Kathryn Praser’s words back in her head, she couldn’t believe that she’d allowed anything to come between them and the fantasy they forged for Leigh in the first place. She gathered her things together, hugged her book with affection and because she was cold and needed to wrap herself around something, and began to trek back down to the dock. But she hadn’t taken more than six or seven steps when HE materialised from behind a maple tree, his mouth hard, and his eyes tight- his entire countenance wrathful.

‘You,’ he growled, as her spirits sank and her steps slowed. Just like the night before, he looked even more alluring when angry. ‘I KNEW you were lurking around here somewhere! Do you know how many laps of the promenade I’ve done, looking for you?’

Leigh felt flustered by the sight of him, but not the way she had been the last three times their paths had crossed and so, she quickened her steps and moved to stride around him and to her destination, keeping her eyes on the eaves of the building she needed to get to- and off the angry hunk of, well, hunk.

‘I’m lurking? Says the guy who just stepped out from behind a tree?’ she asked, keeping her tone light and her eyes on her goal. ‘Little dramatic and ironic, don’t you think?’

‘Me? Dramatic? Of all the-’ he made a frustrated sound as she passed him by with her nose in the air. ‘Oh! So, after causing the biggest scene that a woman has caused in Niagara since Monroe filmed here, you’re just gonna waltz off and ignore me like my existence is of no consequence to you?’

‘It isn’t. It was, but it shouldn’t be so I’m getting over it now that I’ve said my piece,’ Leigh said blithely, crossing the path and stepping up onto the deck of the building and making her way down to the dock. ‘But I left you with some reading material so just take my advice already, and read it okay?’

Please, not another scene! Let me have the last word then go read Miss Praser’s words, so I can stop feeling like I’m needed to step up here!

‘You didn’t say ANYTHING that made sense, you nutcase! You brained me with a book and then vamoosed!’ He was panting. ‘Do you have any idea how many customers you scared away?’

Leigh laughed, increasing her strides to compensate for the way he and his long legs were gaining on her. ‘Hate to break it to you Ryan, if that’s even your real name- which it is NOT, FYI- but you were busking with your guitar case closed...’

‘That’s because I’m not trying to earn chump change, Miss Know-It-All. I get paid to play there by one of the local restaurants three days a week, three times a day.’

Leigh glanced at him over her shoulder, surprised by his jactation. ‘What? Why would they pay a musician to play away from their business?’ And then she laughed. ‘Oh, ha ha! Did you used to play near them and scare every one off?’

‘You KNOW that’s not it,’ Ryan smirked, not taking her petty insult to heart for even a second. ‘They do it because I draw a crowd in a crowded area, and while I’ve got them riveted, an attractive young lady comes down and hands out fliers for the meal specials.’ He adjusted his strap over his arm and loped forward, falling in step with her. ‘The crowd sometimes gives me change, regardless of the fact that I have my case closed and nowhere for them to put it, so I stuff in the tip jar at the restaurant and in exchange, the waitresses hand out flyers for my gigs.’

Leigh tore her eyes away from his face and tried not to pout sullenly. Damn him and his talent! And the way his eyes sparkled when suffering from a cocky spell! ‘Does it work?’

‘They make twice as much when I’m there than they do on my days off so I guess so,’ he retorted, in a tone that dared her to laugh again.

‘Yeah well, if it’s exposure you want, then you should thank me,’ Leigh said breezily, crossing the footpath. ‘I probably just got you on YouTube.’

‘How much you know about my life goals...’ A hand grabbed her arm roughly and spun her round and she yelped, caught off guard by his sudden change of tactic. ‘But we’re not talking about me- we’re talking about you and the screw you’re missing.’ He swiped his hair back off his face, exposing three or four square inches of perfection more, and Leigh felt winded by his beauty. He was just so… bright, but dark at the same time. Contrast of hot and cold, pearly teeth against glossy dark brows, pink lips against olive skin, twilight eyes against the whitest of whites. ‘What happened back there?’

I can tell you what screw I’m missing… oh cripes! Get me away from this man before I lick him to death!

‘I already-’ Leigh wambled her way out of his grip, frustrated and mostly with herself and her physical responses to the man she wanted to snuff out before he set her on fire. ‘Gah! I don’t want to have to spell this out for you! It’s too weird! Just-’ she pointed to the book. ‘Read that, okay? It’ll answer all your questions without my assistance.’

‘You think I’m going to take a book recommendation from a woman who threw Fifty Shades Of Grey in my face last night, like it was of some sort of literary import? Ha! Thanks, but I’ll stick with The Times for my picks, while you scrape the bottom of the literotica barrel.’

Leigh spun around on the steps leading up to the dock and got in his face. ‘Screw you, Weaver, I read everything- from the trash to the classics, so don’t even try to get on that high horse with me, or I’ll toss you off and have it buck you in your perfect face!’

Ryan recoiled, but he looked more amused than affronted. ‘Again with the face? Honey, if you want me that badly then please for both our sake’s- just try asking nicely and I’ll see if I can’t muster up a pity screw, to replace the one you’re missing.’

It was the ‘Honey’ that did it this time. ‘Oh you know what?!’ she exploded, fear of confrontation dissolving. ‘After Bruce told me about your condition, I actually felt sorry for you. I actually gave you the benefit of the doubt! But you don’t deserve either- clearly it’s for the best that you’ve lost your memory, because it was probably just twenty years of slimy, worthless data that belongs at the bottom of Niagara Gorge anyway, if who you are without it is THIS grotesque!’

Ryan looked like she’d punched him in the stomach, and he retreated back a step. ‘Carter told you about my accident? And you’re throwing it in my face like I deserved it? I was almost killed!’

‘No! No I came down here to apologize to you this morning! To explain myself calmly, but then you saw me and you made that comment in front of everyone and embarrassed me and I realised that I have NOTHING to feel bad about because memory loss or not- you’re just plain MEAN.’

Ryan’s eyes narrowed. ‘You came down here to throw my iPad back in my face in front of a bunch of people, yet you’re calling me mean?’ He gave her a disgusted look. ‘I smiled at you yesterday because you were beautiful and I’m a guy, and you had a book in your hands and I love girls who read…’ he snorted. ‘Sorry- I thought I loved girls who read but clearly that’s just one more muddled memory...’

Leigh felt a flash of some nondescript emotion surge through her but she twisted her heart away from it and focused on the more prominent feelings swirling through her. ‘Yeah, well it must be because I don’t think you could handle a woman smart enough to be literate if you tried- though you have been trying awfully hard, from what I can gather.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ His eyes were neon again. ‘Quit speaking in riddles.’

‘Fine.’ Leigh stepped down a step and held the book up in Ryan’s face, fit to be tied and ready to do whatever it took to clarify the embrangled situation. ‘What is this to you?’

‘Um… What is a Book, Alex?’ He leaned around the outside of it and jogged his brows. ‘Did I pass the IQ test? Did I? Can I ‘Do you’ now and fix what ails yah?’

Leigh growled and thrust it closer to his nose. ‘Try again!’

Ryan smacked it down without looking at it. ‘The book you carry around like it’s a pet, but leave behind and thump people with like it’s a weapon?’

But Leigh was done with the exchange of barbed words. ‘Touché, but all that aside…’ she held it up again. ‘Is this, or is this not, the book you chose to model yourself after when you went with the name, Ryan Weaver?’

‘Eh?’ Ryan looked form her, to the book, and then squinted at her. ‘I don’t even understand that question! I modelled? Is that how you know me?’ He rubbed his jaw and glanced out at the river. ‘Huh… that makes sense, and definitely explains the way panties drop-’

Leigh thumped him with the book again. ‘IQ test FAIL, Ryan! I’ll rephrase so you can understand… Did you, or did you not- name yourself Ryan Weaver, after the character in this book?’

Ryan was rubbing his head and glaring at her. ‘Okay for starters- I’ve never read that book. Secondly- I didn’t name myself- the woman who rescued me did- and thirdly... my name’s in that book? Cool.’ He swiped it from her hand and flipped it over, his eyes scanning the blurb.

He didn’t name himself? Oh my gosh!

After about ten seconds of reading, Ryan smirked ‘...Undying love… erotic romance…’ his eyes lifted to hers. ‘Huh. Case in point…’ he looked down again and read on and then suddenly, his face drew tighter. ‘Musician Ryan Weaver? Niagara Falls?’ He looked up at her, a puzzled expression on his face. ‘For real?’

Leigh was too stuck on one of the first things he’d said to answer him. ‘You were named by the woman who rescued you?’

Ryan nodded, flipping the book over and studying the front. ‘Sort of.’ He held up his right hand and wriggled the pewter ring at her. Up close, Leigh could see that it was a simple silver band with deeply etched music notes ringing it, and that the pads of three of his fingers were calloused. ‘This ring was all I was wearing when I was found and it says ‘For Ryan’ inside the band. And Imogen suggested Weaver as a surname, reckoned it suited me and I love the song Dream Weaver so I agreed thinking it would just be temporary, you know? Until my real name came back to me...’ He held up the book and took a step closer to her. ‘Who is Kathryn Praser? I’ve never heard of her before but it seems like she’s heard of me... When was this published?’

‘A year ago,’ Leigh said quietly, while her mind slapped desperately at the thought of: ‘His name is ACTUALLY Ryan?!’ To get a grip on it, but slid off clumsily.

Ryan lifted his eyebrows. ‘But I wasn’t Ryan Weaver a year ago. I don’t know who I was, but I couldn’t have been a busker in Niagara Falls named Ryan Weaver, or someone would have recognised me by now, wouldn’t they?’

‘You’d assume as much…’

His name is Ryan? His name is Ryan!! What the hell?

Ryan’s face screwed up as he retreated into his own mind. ‘But… but if Imogen correctly guessed my last name… then she must have been a psychic or something, right? Or she knew more about me than she let on...?’

‘Or she was just a fan,’ Leigh pointed out; quietly rocked by him, and the certainty she suddenly had regarding his innocence. If he was playing dumb, then he ought to have been going for a Golden Globe rather than a Grammy because he looked genuinely lost. ‘Not of you, as you presumed I meant last night; a reader, not a music lover.’

Ryan arched one brow at her. ‘That’s what you were saying? When you called yourself a fan?’ He tapped the book with one finger. ‘You meant, of the author’s?’

No. I meant of the author’s creation, Ryan Weaver. But your answer is a lot less mortifying, so let’s stick with that, shall we?

‘That’s precisely what I meant.’ She nodded to the book. ‘It’s my favourite. It’s set here- and I came here because it made me want to see Niagara for myself. Then I step off the bus and- poof- Ryan Clone singing a jukebox track, just like in the book.’

Ryan’s eyes were hooded with scepticism. ‘So… when I assumed that you meant you were a fan of mine, and that you recognised me because we’d…’ he read the answer in her eyes, and had the grace to redden and look away. ‘Okay… okay I get it now.’

‘And I get why you assumed that,’ she admitted grudgingly, ‘but only now that I know that you’re memories have been erased.’ She tugged on her ponytail again. ‘But if other women are constantly running up to you all excited, taking pictures with you- or cussing you out like I did, as Bruce said, then I think it’s safe to assume that they all either associate you with Ryan from the book and get excited to meet a likeness, or think you’re trying to sell them on it to bed them or get money for singing or whatever- basically working it- and offending them.’ She sighed. ‘I was coming down to tell you, after having put a copy on your iPad, when you looked up at me and made that shitty remark.’