Page 8 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
The silence is deafening.
“Oh gosh,” I whisper, scrambling to my knees. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’ll pay for it, I’ll...”
Miranda stands from her seat. “Alice, what were you thinking?”
I’m frantically trying to pick up pieces of crystal when Ryder’s voice cuts through my panic.
“Are you hurt?”
I look up and find him crouched next to me. For a moment, breathing isn’t a natural response. He’s not looking at the broken vase or the mess I’ve made. He’s watching me with something I’d almost call concern. Wow. From this close, his dark eyes seem to have gold flecks in them.
“I’m fine,” I blurt, and then wince as a shard of crystal bites into my palm. “Just clumsy.”
“Let me see.”
Before I can protest, he takes my hand in his, examining the small cut on my palm. His fingers are warm and slightly callused. My brain short-circuits from his gentleness.
“It’s not deep.” His breath dances against my wrist. “But you should clean it.”
“Ryder,” Miranda’s voice is sharp, breaking our spell. “Don’t touch her. Get up before you hurt yourself. You can’t afford anything happening to your hands.”
Ryder drops my hand and stands up, his expression shifting from concerned to carefully neutral.
In an instant, Mrs. Gallagher bustles out of the kitchen and sweeps up my disaster. She then leads me into the kitchen and tends to my wounds. She cleans the cut on my palm with water, rubbing alcohol, and an adhesive bandage. She’s kind about it, but I still feel terrible.
“You can go back into the dining room now,” she says, fixing the cap to the rubbing alcohol.
I lean back against the granite countertop, willing my brain to come up with an excuse.
I really, really, don’t want to go back out there.
“You don’t want your dinner to go cold,” she urges.
I give her a small nod and whisper my thanks.
Hoping I’m invisible, I make my way back into the dining room and to my chair that’s now back in its upright position.
Miranda shakes her head at me. “Why did you try to move when your dinner was already served to you?”
“I… I…” I don’t know. I really don’t know. If I’m being honest, I still have no clue where I am or what I’m doing here. This really can’t be my life. Please let me wake up from a really bad, and really long nightmare.
“Look at her,” Ryder says bluntly. “She looks like a zombie.”
Miranda nods. “Yes. With the travel, it must’ve been a long day for her. Alice, are your hands okay?”
I nod. “Yes, thank you.”
“Good.”
“Now, Ryder,” Miranda says, her tone turning more business-like. “What were you saying? Your practice was fine? Justfine.”
Ryder huffs. “That’s what I said.”
“The showcase is in two weeks. You need to be better than fine.”
Ryder frowns at his plate. “We’re working on it.”
Miranda sighs, setting down her fork. “Ryder, I know you have some... challenges with performing. But the label is watching very closely right now. After the Late Show appearance…”
