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Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 01

By: PennLady



Author's Note: Yes, here's a hockey romance. I know it's been a long (long long long) time since I posted something other than a stand alone. Writing time has been hard to come by this year, unfortunately. I do hope you enjoy this. Votes and feedback always appreciated. Thanks to MugsyB, annanova, and LettersfromTatyana for beta reading and encouragement, as well as my chief beta reader J. Also thanks to Estragon for the copy editing. Hope you enjoy!

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"I gotta go, man," said Mark. "I told Hilary I'd meet her."

"Right." Brody grinned. "You're just mad because I was kicking your ass at Madden."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's it. I'm so pissed about losing that I'm using my girlfriend as an excuse. Jesus, Brody."

Brody snickered. "You have been whipped since she moved in with you."

"Just get out." Mark glared at him.

"Man, I never thought I'd see the day. . . ." Brody dodged Mark's half-hearted swing at his shoulder, grinning all the while.

"You should be so lucky." Mark managed to land one punch as Brody went to the door. They heard some thumps in the hallway, followed by a muffled voice.

"Mice?" Brody asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nah, that's Ryan, my neighbor," Mark said. After more thumps, he said, "Come on, let's see if we can help. Ryan's got a fractured ankle. Probably needs help carrying something."

"Okay." Brody opened the door and stepped out, Mark behind him, just in time to hear a few more thumps.

Brody turned around to offer some help, and was surprised to see a woman in the hallway. She had a cast on her ankle, crutches under her arms, and he watched as she threw her purse on the floor in frustration.

"Need some help?" Brody asked.

The woman dropped her head, sighed, and looked up. "Sure," she said. "It's obviously not meant for me to do." She ran a hand through wavy auburn hair in frustration, then tried a smile. "Hi, Mark."

"Hey. Brody, this is Ryan Bancroft. Ryan, this is my teammate, Brody Lang." Mark squatted and started picking up the fallen items. "He's mostly housetrained." That got a short laugh from Ryan and a glare from Brody. Mark looked up. "How's the ankle?"

Ryan shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Not great today."

"Well, we all have bad days," Brody said. He picked up cans and boxes as he moved forward, putting them into the plastic grocery bag they'd escaped from. He took the bag, refilled with the groceries, and gestured at the little metal cart that held a few more. "Do you need any help getting that stuff in?"

"Probably." Ryan sighed and unlocked her door. 

Brody followed her in and dropped his bag on the table, then went out into the hall for the cart. Mark came through with another bag and her purse, and Brody maneuvered the cart through the door and into the apartment, leaving it outside the kitchen.

"Thanks, guys." Ryan took her purse and dropped it on the counter. "I appreciate it."

Mark looked at his watch and cursed. "Ryan, I'm sorry, I'd help you put stuff away but I've gotta run."

"No problem, Mark," she assured him. "Go on. I've got it."

"I can help," Brody offered. 

Ryan shrugged as if to say it was up to him.

"Sorry, Ryan," Mark said again. "I'll talk to you later. Bye, Brody." He took off.

"So, you're Ryan." Brody stared at the woman in front of him. She had on faded blue jeans, a GMU sweatshirt, and a well-worn leather jacket. Auburn hair framed a slightly angular face that had a light dusting of freckles over the cheekbones. Mischievous green eyes met his own. She was not what he had expected.

She gave him a half-smile as she made her way over to one of the bags. "You were expecting someone with a Y chromosome."

Brody felt guilty. "I, ah, yeah, I guess so. Mark said his neighbor was Ryan and I assumed it was a guy. Sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't worry. It's not the first time, won't be the last. I should change my name."

"How about using your middle name?" Brody suggested. "I have a couple of aunts who do that."

"My middle name is Riley."

"Oh." Brody wondered how far into his mouth his foot would fit.

"Thanks." She shook her head. "Sorry, I'm not trying to be difficult. You didn't know, and I am grateful for the help."

Brody was silent as Ryan leaned over the cart and began pulling the bags out. When she grabbed a chair to keep from falling, he shook his head at himself and stepped over.

"Here, let me." He set the bags on the table, began taking out the contents. "Just tell me where they go," he said.

"Look," Ryan said, shaking her head. "You don't have to do that, I can—"

"I know." He gave her a breezy smile. "I just like making myself useful to attractive women."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yep." He held up a can of soup, gave her a questioning look, and turned to the cabinet she indicated. "I'm a sucker for a pretty face. Ask Mark, he'll tell you."

Ryan laughed. "Yeah, I guess Mark has a pretty face, when it doesn't have stitches on it."

Brody grinned. "I'll tell him you said that."

That seemed to break the tension and Ryan sat while Brody put the rest of her groceries away. 

"You know, you should buy some real food sometime." Brody closed a cabinet and turned to look at her. 

"I have plenty of real food." Ryan crossed her arms in front of her. "You just put it away."

"I don't think you had anything that wasn't microwavable. That's not healthy."

"I manage, thanks. Are you a chef or something?"

"No." He shrugged. "But I like to cook, and it kills me to see more fake food than real food in a person's kitchen." He arched an eyebrow at her. "Come on, not even bananas?"

"I don't like bananas. There are grapes in the fridge."

"I don't believe you." 

At Ryan's wave, Brody went to the fridge and opened it. He spied a small, sad container of what might have been grapes but were halfway to being raisins.

"These, Miss Bancroft, are not grapes. They are pitiful."

"I have canned peaches." She paused. "I think."

"Stop, you're killing me." Brody closed the fridge and sat across from her at the table. "So, what happened?" He gestured at her leg.

"I jumped off the Washington Monument."

Brody stared at her. That couldn't be true, but she kept her eyes on his and there was no trace of a smile on her face. He thought for a minute, then said, in a tone as serious as hers, "Where did you land?"

"The Reflecting Pool."

Her expression didn't change much, but he could see the slight grin at the corners of her mouth.

"Good call." Brody nodded. "I'd have gone for the Tidal Basin, but you'd really have to get some distance for that."

They stared for another minute, then both started laughing. Ryan shook her head.

"If only it was that interesting," she said. "No, this was the result of a 'friendly'—" she crooked her fingers in the air as she said the word "—game of touch football with my family."

"Wow." Brody looked down at the cast, then back up to her green eyes. "A little sibling rivalry at work?"

"Something like that. I'm not much on sports; I shouldn't have played. But you know how it is, it was family." Her eyes clouded and Brody suspected there was a little more to it.

"Too bad you don't like sports," he said, "I'd get you tickets to a game."

"Thanks." Ryan smiled, a genuine one, and it softened her face. "I've gone to a few; Mark's given me extra tickets. Not so many now since he has a girlfriend, but that's okay."

"Maybe you can use mine. I don't have a girlfriend. And I only live a few floors up, so delivery is no problem."

Ryan nodded. "Thanks, but it's awkward on steps with this right now. Maybe another time."

"Maybe." Brody smiled, pleased he hadn't been shut down outright. "It was nice meeting you, Ryan. You need any help with groceries again, let me know."

"I'll do that."

* * *

Later that night, Ryan lay on the couch, reading and listening to some music, her ankle propped up on a pillow. She had turned on iTunes and set it to shuffle. Some might have found it odd to hear Bad Company, then Sara Bereilles, followed by John Coltrane, but she liked it.

She put her book aside and pushed herself up, trying but failing to stifle a groan of pain and irritation as she did. She used the arm of the couch to push herself up, got her crutches, and went over to turn off the music. Normally she would have used a quiet evening to work on her own music, but the ache in her leg made it difficult to focus.

Just let it go, she told herself and took a few deep breaths. It was an accident, could have happened to anyone. Let it go. 

She tried, but she was still pissed about what had happened to her leg. They'd had a family reunion two weeks ago, at her parents' house in Chantilly, and it had been fun. She'd caught up with her cousins, talked to her aunts and uncles, and had agreed—in a fit of idiocy, it seemed now—to play in the football game.

Her whole family liked sports, so the game was a tradition at most gatherings that had enough people to support two teams. Ryan had grown up on the Redskins, the Wizards (né Bullets) and Capitals. When the Nationals had come to town, the family had been stalwart in their support.

Ryan had liked sports, too—for a while. Until she realized that anything else she did never got the same respect or attention as her brothers' athletic achievements. A piano solo in the school orchestra performance? That's nice, dear. We'll make sure to record it so Dad can watch later. Top marks on the AP Chemistry test? Good job, Ryan. We'll celebrate after JT's game. 

She had tried. Ryan had held her own on the track and softball teams. She had kept at it, even though she preferred music, even though her sports accomplishments never seemed to please her parents the way her brothers' did. College had been liberating as she left sports behind. Her parents didn't care, as they had her brothers to focus on. JT was a football star in his third year at University of Maryland; their younger brother, Evan, was in first year at the same school and had earned a basketball scholarship.

Get over it, she told herself irritably. You're an adult. It's over. Get on with your life. 

She decided to go to bed. It was early—before ten—but the ache and fatigue in her leg tended to spread to the rest of her. She might read or watch TV for a bit, but she'd had enough of lying on the couch.

Despite her best efforts, memories of the football game surfaced while she got ready for bed. 

It had started out fun, and she'd been enjoying herself, almost to her own surprise. They'd been playing for maybe half an hour when she'd caught a pass and started running for the makeshift end zone. Laughing as she dodged the attempts to tag her, she had stepped into a small gopher hole in the yard and tumbled, one of her brothers landing on top of her.

She'd gone white from the pain, but hadn't screamed or shouted as she might have expected. Her brother, JT, had taken her initial struggles as part of the game, until she had shouted at him and freed an arm to push him away. 

What had made her furious was that instead of someone taking her to the ER at that point, it was decided to wait until the game was over. 

"Nothing broken," her father had said, clapping her on the shoulder. "We'll finish up and someone will run you over."

So for another half an hour, Ryan had sat on a lawn chair, a picnic table bench brought over to keep her leg elevated. Her mother had brought some ice before returning to the game, but that was it. Ryan had been tempted to call an ambulance, but her purse with her cell phone was in the house and she couldn't get it, nor could she get anyone's attention to get it for her.

No one, she thought, had been as nice as her neighbor, Mark Gaines, and Brody Lang, a complete stranger. Who, she had to admit, she wouldn't mind seeing again. Not just because he was tall, with a great build, shaggy brown hair and gold-brown eyes, although that didn't hurt. No, he'd been fun to talk to, and she'd liked him.

You should have gotten his number, dimwit, or given him yours. She thought about that, then shrugged. She could give her number to Mark, perhaps. 

She considered it again as she climbed into bed. Maybe it wasn't such a great idea. Getting involved with an athlete, given her current feelings about sports in general, probably wasn't the best way to start anything. And of course, there was no particular reason to think he wanted to get involved with her.

Still, he'd been nice.

* * *

"So, Mark, what's the story with Ryan?" Brody asked a couple of days later. They sat in the dressing room, lacing up their skates before practice. 

"What?" Mark looked up. "What story?"

Brody shrugged. "She seeing anybody?"

Mark narrowed his eyes. "I don't know. Why?"

"Just curious."

"I don't think she's your type."

"My type?" Brody raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Mark stood and grabbed his helmet. "Her IQ is bigger than her bra size and her voice doesn't squeak."

"I like smart women."

"Since when?" This was from Drew Stamenski and drew hoots from the rest of the team. Brody's penchant for hooking up with women who weren't exactly intellectuals was a constant source of amusement to his teammates.

"Since always," Brody said. "They're more fun to talk to."

"Is that what you do?" Ray Callahan, the team's tough guy, grinned and tapped him on the leg with his stick as he walked by. "And here I thought you were getting laid all this time."

"If you spent less time thinking about what I was doing, maybe you'd get laid," Brody tossed back. 

More snickers and catcalls rattled through the room, along with mocking advice for Ray on finding some post-game company. Brody grabbed his stick and helmet and headed out to the ice, eager to get a little skating in before practice started in earnest.

* * *

Ryan looked up from her endless data entry when her phone rang. 

"Hello. Ryan Bancroft."

"Hey, Ryan. It's Lara."

"Oh, hey. What's up?" Ryan took advantage of the break to stretch. Lara Cohen was her best friend since high school, her roommate and the band's lead singer. 

"Not much. Just checking in. I might be a couple minutes late to pick you up for practice." 

"Okay, thanks. Thanks for picking up the synth and the guitar. Sorry I couldn't help load it in." Ryan felt guilty about that. Her keyboard was nominally portable, but not with her cast, so Lara had had to take it with her the night before.

"Don't worry about it. I'll meet you at the door."

"Thanks. These damn things are a pain in the ass." Ryan glared at her crutches.

"No problem." 

"So, how's Trout these days?" Trout was Lara's boyfriend, and Ryan could never figure out how he'd come by his nickname. At least, she hoped it was a nickname.

"He's good." Lara sounded happy and Ryan smiled. Lara went on a little more, but Ryan let her mind wander and launched the app on her smartphone to start writing down a melody that had begun to coalesce in her mind. She was soon engrossed and it wasn't until Lara shouted her name that she realized she hadn't heard anything for the last few minutes.

"Ryan! Geez. Are listening or not?"

"Sorry. Song."

"Cool. Tell me later." It was an exchange they'd had many times before.

Ryan was silent for a moment as she got the basics of the melody down. "Okay. So, is it just Trout that makes you go on like this, or would it be any guy?" She snickered at Lara's indignant huff.

"Stop that. You know I love him."

"Ah." Ryan nodded. "I see. If love makes a person this goofy, then I'm glad I can live vicariously through you."

"You're just jealous. You'll see. When you find someone, you'll be crazy like I am."

"If you say so." Ryan let the subject drop. They talked for a few more minutes, setting up details for the evening, and then Ryan got back to work. The next two hours zipped by as she worked to get all of her data entered and fill out her work log in time to meet Lara. She finished with a few minutes to spare, grabbed her bag and crutches and got down to the door of her building around 5:15. Lara was there ten minutes later. 

"So, I went on about my guy," Lara said as they pulled onto 395 South to head to Lorton. "What about you? Any prospects?"

"Don't think so." Ryan's mind was only half on the conversation. The melody that had gotten into her head at work was coming faster now and she tried to follow it as she tapped at her phone's screen. "I met a guy the other day, though."

"Who? Who?" Lara reached over to poke her in the ribs, but Ryan caught her hand and placed it back on the wheel. For once, she was grateful for the slow traffic, as it kept Lara's speed under control.

"A friend of a friend." 

"Come on, you can't leave me hanging like that. What's his name?"

Ryan sighed. "Brody Lang. He's a friend of Mark's." Lara would figure it out in a minute, she thought. 

"That's kind of neat." Lara hadn't processed the last statement. "You don't meet a lot of Brodys. I mean, the only one I've even heard of is the one that plays . . . ." She gaped and stared at Ryan. "Oh, my God. You met Brody Lang? Mark's teammate?"

"Eyes front," Ryan ordered.

Lara complied but couldn't stop talking. "Ryan, that's fantastic! Did you meet him through Mark? If Mark is an example, hockey players are way cool."

"He's fine. And you don't even like sports." Ryan tried to deflect the conversation. Lara, however, was a guided missile.

"I like sports just fine," Lara countered. "Trout's a big sports fan, we watch a lot of games. You're the one hating on sports. Anyway, what was he like? What did you say?"

"You're going to miss the exit."

"I am not. Now, talk. Or I'll make you talk in front of the guys." Lara turned on her blinker and slid into the right lane.

Ryan decided to talk in the car. The band was great. Except for the guitarist, they'd all known each other for a few years now, having met and formed the band in college. Still, Ryan had no desire to have this discussion in front of them, and she doubted they would want it either.

"Okay. The other day I came home from shopping, and of course I dropped everything. I ran into Mark, and Brody was there. Mark introduced us, and they helped get my stuff inside. Brody even put stuff away." She couldn't suppress a smile at that. "We talked a little, then he left. That's it."

"Ryan, you're hopeless." Lara shook her head. "You didn't get his number? Or give him yours?"

"It never came up."

"Did he seem interested?" 

"I think so," Ryan admitted. "We were both . . . testing the waters, maybe."

"Think you'll see him again?" Lara pulled into Mitch's driveway.

"Maybe. I see him come and go. He lives in our building, a few floors up." She didn't say that she'd considered giving Mark her number so he could pass it on. "You'd know him, too, if you didn't spend all your time at Trout's. Why do you even pay rent on our place?"

"Okay, Ryan." Lara ignored the last part. She turned off the car, released her seatbelt, and turned to face her friend. "That was an opportunity. Maybe you both missed it, that happens. But don't let it happen again."

"Yes, ma'am." Ryan saluted and laughed at Lara's frustrated glare.

* * *

Brody whistled as he walked to the lobby to check his mail. He nodded at a few of the other tenants that he knew, and was about to turn around to go back up when he saw Ryan and another woman outside the door. Ryan was still on her crutches, and had a laptop bag on one shoulder and a guitar over the other, while the other woman had her own bag and was pulling a large rectangular case behind her.

"Here, I've got it," he said. Ryan looked up with a small but grateful smile and he wondered why his stomach took a sudden lurch. 


Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 02



© 2011 All rights reserved

*

A week later, Ryan was pleased to be in a soft cast. Her ankle hurt far less and she was off her crutches, but she couldn't wait to be done with the whole damn thing. At least, she thought as she came in from work, she wasn't thinking about how it had happened every time she walked more than a block.

Just a few more days, she reminded herself as she stared at the contents of the fridge. She frowned; pickings were slim. She wondered if there was any mac'n'cheese. A knock on the door distracted her and she went over to answer it.

"Hey, Brody." She smiled. "Come on in."

"How are you? I almost didn't recognize you without the crutches."

"Oh, very funny." Ryan shook her head as he stepped in. "What brings you by?"

"Just thought I'd say hi. Got the night off."

"Nice. Good game last night."

Brody grinned. "You watched. You must like me."

"Don't get your hopes up, buddy. I caught the score and some highlights." And I will never live down checking the score on my computer at rehearsal, she thought, then relented. "Nice goal."

"Hey, Obie could set up a tree stump, but I'll take it."

"And so modest." Ryan laughed.

"Part of my charm." Brody looked around. "So, what's on tap for you tonight?"

"Not sure. I was just trying to decide on dinner."

Brody gave her a skeptical look. "Do you have any food in here? I mean, something not processed into a box or can?"

"I have . . . ." She opened the refrigerator again and cocked her head. "Apples . . . and leftover Thai. I think. I was considering mac'n'cheese. I haven't checked the freezer, though. There might be more there."

Brody rolled his eyes. "Jesus. Come on, Ryan. Let's go."

"Go where?" She closed the fridge.

"Back to my place. I'll make something."

"Brody, I can fend for myself. I'm a big girl, you know."

He looked on the verge of saying something, but shook his head. Ryan wondered what he'd been about to say, but didn't ask.

"I couldn't sleep tonight knowing you were going to eat 'Thai, I think.' Come with me, I'll make you some real food."

Ryan gave in and grabbed her phone and keys. Brody waited while she locked the door, then led the way down the hall to the elevator.

"So, how goes it with the band?" 

"Good, thanks." Ryan was pleased he asked. "We've got shows at a couple of colleges coming up, and then we're headlining at the 9:30 Club."

"Really? That's awesome. I was there for a show last year. Which colleges?" He held the elevator door for her. "Maybe I can come."

"We have one in D.C., at George Washington, and another at Maryland. But don't you have a road trip coming up?"

He studied her as the elevator went to his floor. "Is that a hint I should stay home?"

"No, no." She looked up as she stepped off the elevator. "I just thought you'd be busy. Come and bring friends, we need the exposure."

"I could do that." They walked to his place and he unlocked the door and gestured for her to go in.

Ryan walked in and took stock. There was dark leather furniture—a couch, a couple of chairs—and a large flat-screen TV. Not much in the way of knick-knacks, but there were a couple of pictures on the wall, and she saw some books and smaller pictures on a shelf. The layout was similar to her place, but his was much neater.

"Nice place," she said.

Brody grinned. "You say that like you expected it not to be."

She laughed and shook her head. "I don't have much to compare to. My brothers are in college and in my experience, guys aren't the neatest housekeepers. I refuse to go to our bassist's place anymore, because you need a hazmat suit to use the bathroom."

Brody laughed. "I grew up in a messy house and I guess it shouldn't bother me, but it does. So I keep it neat." He went into the kitchen and Ryan followed. 

She gave a low whistle as she looked around at the gadgets and appliances on the counter. "Wow. You really are serious about the cooking."

"You bet. But mostly it was good timing; they'd just re-done the kitchen in here when I was looking for a place. Couldn't pass up a new kitchen. Have a seat." He gestured towards the kitchen table. "How's your ankle?"

"A lot better, thanks." She sat with a sigh of relief. "Can't wait until this cast is off, though. I don't like hobbling around, and it's just plain old annoying."

"I know the feeling. I sprained my ankle last year and was out for four weeks." He opened the fridge, muttered to himself, then made a decision. "You good with pasta?"

"Love it."

"Cool." Brody took some vegetables and chicken out of the fridge. "Pasta's handy stuff. You should keep some around. I don't know how you survive without actual food in your place."

"Oh, funny. Do I look like I'm wasting away?"

He turned, took his time looking her over, and grinned. "No, you look just fine to me." 

"Thanks." 

"So, how big do you think the crowd will be at your shows?" Brody put some water on to boil, then started sorting through the vegetables.

"Not sure. We're trying to get the word out, and we've got some fans, and it'll be a Saturday, so that should help. We have web pages, and Lara updates them. And we're working on flyers."

"Here, eat this." He handed her a carrot. 

She took it and laughed. "Brody, I actually do eat vegetables of my own free will."

"Humor me." He watched until she took a bite, then turned back to his preparations. "Let me know the dates and I'll see if anybody else on the team can come."

"That'd be great."

"Does your family come to your gigs?" When she didn't answer, he looked over and saw her frowning. He felt a little guilty. "Sorry. Sore spot?"

"A little." She shrugged. "My youngest brother, Evan, he comes sometimes. My parents don't come."

He glanced at her, then put some oil in a skillet. "Why not? You'd think they'd want to."

"You'd be wrong."

"Come on, it can't be that bad." He started slicing a zucchini. 

"My family is obsessed with sports. Suffice to say that I haven't had a ton of support in my musical ambitions." Ryan studied the carrot before taking another bite and didn't look at him. 

"Really? I mean, I know I only heard the one song, but it was great." He looked at her and then checked the water. "My parents would have been all over that. My mom plays the piano, and my dad plays the guitar."

"That's nice." Ryan was silent for a moment and then changed the subject. "So, what are you making over there?"

"Not sure yet. Some kind of pasta-veggie-chicken thing. With sauce. I'll call it chicken a là Lang."

She smiled, and Brody was glad she seemed to have cheered up. He remembered the call where he'd overheard her talking to her mom, and wondered about it. His parents had always supported him; sometimes it was hard to realize not everyone's parents reacted the same way to their kids' choices.

They chatted about Ryan's day job while he cooked, and when he brought the food to the table, she asked him if he minded all the traveling he did with the team.

"Not most times. I mean, there are times when you're just beat and the last thing you want to do is drag your ass onto a bus or a plane, but then you get over it." He handed her a glass of water and sat down, motioning her to take some food. "And it's not as bad as the minors, let me tell you."

"We've done a little traveling, the band, I mean. We lined up some dates and did a self-designed tour a couple of times. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to do any kind of extended tour, sponsored by someone." Ryan took a bite of chicken and vegetables. "Hey, this is great. Really."

"Thanks." He grinned. "See, I told you it'd be better than whatever you had."

"I like reheated Thai," she shot back, but laughed herself. "I do appreciate it. When did you have time to learn to cook?"

"Funny what you pick up in the off season." He sipped some water and then ate a few bites himself. "I have four brothers and sisters, so sometimes it was cook for yourself or take your chances on what someone else made. Then one summer my mom was sick and it seemed like I was the only one available, so I started cooking."

"What was the first meal you made on your own?" 

"Waffles."

"Waffles?" She laughed. "Frozen waffles?"

He narrowed his eyes and pointed a fork at her. "I'll have you know those were made-from-scratch, cooked-on-an-iron waffles. We had eggs, flour and baking powder; it was waffles or pancakes. I'm a guy; I wanted to use the waffle iron."

"I'm jealous. We were always running around so much I didn't have a real waffle until I stayed at Lara's when I was about fourteen. Her mom made Belgian waffles, with fruit and whipped cream." She smiled at the memory. "Those were fantastic. I got her to teach me and tried to make them at home the next weekend, but it didn't work out."

"What was all the running around for?" Brody almost wished he hadn't said anything, as he could see the shadow pass over her face, although it lifted quickly.

"Sports. What else? My brothers did a lot of baseball and football; we had to travel to games as they got older." Ryan drank some water. "And if it wasn't that, it was going to pro games. Anyway." She cleared her throat. "I guess you learned to get beyond breakfast."

"Nothing like a house full of hungry people to make you expand your cooking horizons." 

"So what do I owe you for this?" She waved her fork over the plate. "Not like I can reciprocate in kind."

"Well." Brody scooped some more pasta onto his plate. "How about the all-access backstage pass?" He got up and took the plates to the counter, waving off her offer of help. "I mean, I need the whole experience." He stopped and widened his eyes. "Hey, do you have groupies? Because that could be all kinds of fun."

Ryan couldn't help but smile and shake her head. "Groupies wouldn't fit in the backstage area. Trust me, the band barely fits."

"And another bubble bursts." Brody told Ryan to go into the living room while he dealt with the dishes, and she did. She indulged herself and curled into the overstuffed sofa.

"I could probably fall asleep on this in no time flat," she said when he came out.

"Don't do that. We're going to watch something."

"We are?" 

"You bet. No big revenge stories, though. This is something different. The most basic competition—man versus man. Who's the fastest? Who's got the right strategy? Who will come out on top?"

"Um, Brody, I'm really not much on watching sports."

"Iron Chef is more than a sport."

"Iron Chef?" Ryan stared at him. "You want to watch a cooking show?"

He turned to her with mock indignation. "This is no mere 'cooking show.' Could you plan a four-course meal cold, with no previous knowledge of the main ingredient? In an hour?" He raised an eyebrow as he waited for her answer.

"No, I could not." She shook her head. "You win. But I bet they couldn't write a song."

"True, but that's not what it's about. So, what do I win? Oh, I know." He grinned. "That kiss."

Ryan laughed. "I don't think so."

"Oh, come on. You must know the song, right? Love the one you're with?"

"Nice try, Brody." She shook her head, still laughing.

"All right, I'll let it slide tonight. But some day, Ryan, you're going to let me kiss you."

"You're confident, aren't you?"

"More of a positive thinker."

* * *

A few days later, Brody huffed out a breath as he dropped onto the bench in the dressing room. He grabbed some Gatorade and gulped it down, exchanging high-fives with his teammates as they filed past.

"Good job." Chuck Baxter clapped him on the shoulder as he dropped to the bench next to him. "Now we just have to do it all again next game."

"No problem." Brody grinned. "Give me ten minutes."

Baxter laughed and started unlacing his skates. "Ten? Come on, man, you're ten years younger than I am. You shouldn't need more than five."

They joked and horsed around for a few more minutes, then Brody took his turn at a shower, relishing the hot water that poured over his tired muscles. He was looking forward to some food, then maybe some time to unwind with a video game. He wondered if Ryan would be up, and if she'd eaten anything with any nutritional content.

It had been a good night, he decided. A win was never a bad thing, and he had two assists to add to his totals. He'd taken a couple of hard hits, and a slash on his arm that would leave a bruise, but it was worth it to gain the two standings points.

His thoughts wandered back to Ryan again. She was an odd one, but he liked her. Plus, he mused to himself, there was the kiss that she'd avoided so far. Now it was a challenge; a matter of principle. 

"Come on, Langer, let's go grab a beer." Baxter looked over from buttoning his shirt. "It's early yet."

"Excellent idea. Since you came up with it, you can buy the first round."

Baxter rolled his eyes. "You are one cheap bastard, Lang."

Brody just laughed.

At the bar, they rehashed the game for a while before moving on. 

"So, Bax." Brody tapped a finger on his beer bottle. "How supportive were your parents when you told them you wanted to play hockey?"

Baxter scoffed. "Are you kidding? I'm Canadian."

Brody laughed. "Right. What was I thinking?"

"Actually, my mom wasn't so enthused. I got a million lectures on how hard it was, how long I'd have to practice, how hard I'd have to work, how zillions of guys want to do that and don't make it."

"Typical mom stuff."

"Yeah, but you know." Baxter shrugged. "I got support with the lectures. She'd drive me to practice: 'Work hard, Chuck. You can do it.' She'd pick me up: 'It's a long shot, but not impossible.' All kinds of shit like that. She's a great mom."

"With me it was my dad who was the skeptical one. He kept telling me how slim my chances were and all that. Wanted me to have a back up in case it didn't work out, so I went to college." Brody grinned. "I started with an English major. You should have seen his face."

Baxter laughed. "I bet."

"But they were supportive, right?" Brody studied his beer, then looked at his friend. "Never . . . I don't know . . . never made you feel bad about it?"

"What's wrong with you? You never get maudlin over beer." Baxter narrowed his eyes.

"No, no. I was just talking to someone and it got me thinking."

"I thought I smelled something burning."

Brody rolled his eyes.

"Come on, out with it." Bax took another swallow and waited.

"All right, all right. It's a neighbor of mine. She loves music and wants to be a musician, but she said her family gives her a hard time. They're sports fanatics. It just got me to wondering if I'd be playing here if I hadn't gotten the support from my family. I mean, none of us ever questioned that. Mom and Dad were great about helping us do what we wanted. It must be weird not to have that."

"Well, yeah, not everybody does. But people manage anyway. Can't make everyone happy."

"Thank you, Dr. Phil." 

"It's true." Baxter shrugged. "My sister's friend wanted to be a hairdresser. Her parents thought it was a waste and tried to talk her out of it. She did it anyway, and now she owns her own salon and she's happy. You want to be happy, you can't care what other people think. Christ, where would we be if we hung on every sports column out there?"

"Good point. Still, it's a lot to do on your own."

"If she wants it, she'll do whatever she needs to, family or not."

"How's your family, anyway?"

"Good." Bax smiled, which emphasized the scar near the right corner of his mouth. "Adam is acing science, and Tara scored a goal in her last hockey game. She'll be the next Cammi Granato, you watch." 

"I don't know how you do it." Brody shook his head. Bax had come to the team the year before in a trade with the Boston Bruins, and his wife and two kids were still in the Boston area. 

Bax took a pull on his beer, then shrugged. "You just do it. It's not ideal, but it was best for the kids. I feel bad; it puts a lot on Doreen's shoulders, but we both agreed. The kids were comfortable up there, and we didn't want to uproot them. Tough enough being a teenager, I remember. They'd have been miserable having to change schools and all that."

"Yeah, I get it." Brody took a swig of his own beer, tapped the bottle on the table. "Make sense, but . . . I don't know. Don't think I'd like it."

"Didn't say I liked it," his teammate pointed out. "I said we agreed it was best for the kids."

Brody nodded but said nothing. He'd watched a number of his siblings and cousins marry and start families young; many times too young in his opinion, and along with the weddings, he'd seen a fair number of divorces. That, he'd long ago decided, was something he could do without.

"I think I'll just wait," Brody said. Baxter raised an eyebrow, amused. "I'm in no hurry for the house, kids, and picket fence."

Bax chuckled. "That's what they all say, until they meet someone. Like you and your musician."

"You're way off base on that one," Brody informed him. "She's nice, and it's cool she's in a band, but neither of us is looking for anything."

"Neither was I when I met Doreen."

"Yeah, well." Brody shrugged, then grinned. "Guess I just have more willpower than you."

Bax guffawed. "That's what I said. Then I asked her to marry me. Jesus, Langer, you sound just like I did. You're sunk."

Brody just shook his head and smiled as he finished his beer.

* * *

Ryan stifled a grin as Lara regarded her with exasperation.

"You're not going to tell me anything?"

"There's nothing to tell."

"Oh, come on." Lara threw up her hands. "I swear, you're doing this just to aggravate me."

Ryan couldn't hide a laugh. "You're right. It's much more fun to string you along over any potential love life I might have than to actually have one." She leaned back in her chair. 

"So there's potential!" Lara's eyes gleamed. 

Ryan berated herself for bringing the subject up during a rehearsal. Well, Lara had brought it up, she thought, but Ryan should have ended it as soon as possible. Luckily the guys were chatting amongst themselves as Nate changed a string on his bass.

"Come on, Ryan. I can tell there's more." Lara crossed her arms.

Ryan dropped her head. She needed to say something or there'd be no peace, not to mention no rehearsal.

"Look, I haven't seen him for a while. There's nothing to say." Lara gave her a skeptical look and Ryan tried to move things along. "I've talked to him a few times; he's been busy with road games, and I've been busy with, what was it? Oh, yeah, the band." She arched an eyebrow at Lara.

Lara was about to say something when Nate said he'd finished with the string. Lara sent her a look that said they'd talk later, and at least, Ryan thought, that gave her time to prepare. Not that preparation would necessarily help; Lara could be relentless. 

"Great," said Ryan. "Let's run through the song." She nodded at Mitch, who counted them in and she hit the first notes. Ryan bit her lip as she kept half an eye on Jason; he had a tendency to improvise additions to maximize his parts, which annoyed the rest of them since they'd been playing some of the songs for over three years and had them down cold. This one was newer, but Ryan thought it could be one of their best.

Ryan told herself to relax as she played; to not get upset until and unless anything happened. That lasted about thirty seconds, as Jason started early and trampled on her keyboard intro by soloing over top of it. She stopped and counted to five before saying anything.

"Jason, what the hell are you doing?"

"What? It sounds better this way." He looked over at Nate, then Mitch, and at last Lara, but got bland, blank expressions in return.

Ryan glared at him but Lara spoke first. "Not this time, Jason. Just play it like we wrote it, please. Okay, let's take it from the top." She looked at Ryan, who nodded and let out a slow breath.




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 02



Mitch did the four-count again and Ryan began, watching Jason the whole time. He joined in on time, but then ran over Lara's vocals, and they stopped again. Ryan wondered if he'd done it out of spite that time.

"Jason!"

Jason glared at her. "What? I wasn't finished the solo. You can't run through the progression once more while I finish?

"This song doesn't revolve around your damn solo. This is not the time to fuck around with the songs. You know it; play it." Ryan stared at Jason until he looked to Nate and Mitch for support. When he didn't find any, he glared at the floor and sulked.

"All right." Lara looked over at Mitch. "One more time."

He nodded and they went again. Ryan made herself focus on her hands so that she wouldn't distract herself trying to make sure that Jason didn't pull any more tricks. He played it straight all the way through, and Ryan was relieved when it was over.

"Okay, pretty good." Lara looked at the others, then exchanged a nod with Ryan. "If we can do it that way, I think it'll be great." Her eyes settled on Jason at the end.

"Absolutely. We should put it in the list for the 9:30 Club," Mitch said. He tapped a stick on his leg.

"Speaking of which." Lara dug out her phone. "Can we take care of some business before the next song?" Everyone nodded and she tapped at the screen. "First off, I want to put up a new song on Facebook and MySpace. I was thinking 'Roam Around,' but if we can clean this one up, we could use that."

"Either's good with me," said Ryan, and Nate and Mitch seconded the idea.

"I think we should go with 'On the Far Road,'" said Jason.

Ryan all but bit her tongue in an effort to keep her temper. "On the Far Road" was not their best song, but it did have the guitar front and center. "Roam Around" was far better, and the song they'd just finished, "Skyline," could be a close second. Neither of those, however, spotlighted the guitar.

Nate spoke up. "'Far Road' isn't ready, Jason. We agreed on that last time."

"It's Facebook, it doesn't have to be perfect. It's a good song." When no one spoke up to support him, he scowled and shrugged. "Whatever."

Lara took a deep breath. "Moving on. I don't think it's too early to start making flyers to put up about our gig at the 9:30 Club. Plus we have GW in two weeks and University of Maryland the week after. Those would be excellent places to hand out flyers." 

"How about songs?" Nate asked. "Maybe we could put another one up before each of the college gigs."

"Sounds good to me." Mitch nodded. "I can help put some flyers up. We should put some up near Adams Morgan and areas like that. We don't usually hit those."

"Cool." Lara nodded and her thumbs flew over the tiny keypad. "Okay, I'm still working on our website, the one with our own domain name; Facebook is good, but MySpace is kind of worthless. I think we can have some fun with this. Maybe we can take turns blogging or something like that. Trout said he'll help."

Ryan murmured her agreement as the guys nodded. Trout may have had an odd name, but the man knew his way around websites.

"Great. Let's get back to work." Lara slid the phone in her purse and settled back on her stool.

For the next couple of hours, Jason didn't make any more trouble, but neither did he hide his dissatisfaction. Ryan couldn't recall the last time rehearsal had seemed so much like work. When they were done, they ordered pizza and talked over the "big gig," as they had come to think of it.

"We should try mixing up the order." Mitch reached for his first slice. "I think we're all getting tired of that, and we know the songs inside out."

Ryan pulled a pizza box over to her and Lara; she knew from experience that otherwise they'd be lucky to get a slice each, the way the guys went at it.

"Good idea." Ryan debated pepperoni versus sausage and went with the former. "Let's figure it out and we'll have the GW and Maryland dates to experiment." She grinned. "We should be all set to rock the 9:30 Club. Good work, Lara."

"Absolutely. It's going to be so awesome," Nate chimed in. "I'm really psyched about it."

"Thanks." Lara beamed. It had taken weeks to get the date.

"Too bad you didn't get an earlier date." Jason took a swig of Coke. 

Ryan saw Lara's expression darken a bit. Her friend didn't get angry often, but Jason was good at pushing buttons. 

"It was the first open date I could get, and we should take advantage of the lead time to maximize the exposure," Lara said.

Jason grunted and went back to his pizza.

* * *

"Jason was a piece of work, wasn't he?" Lara shook her head as she drove them home.

"He was." Ryan paused, trying to get a sense of Lara's mood. "No worse than usual, I guess, but he does get under my skin. I think he does it on purpose."

"Yeah. God." Lara smacked the steering wheel. "'Too bad you didn't get an earlier date?' Next time he can plan the damn gigs. I don't see him offering to help. He won't even put up any flyers!" She shook her head. "Nate did I don't know how many blocks last time, and Jason couldn't be bothered to put them up on his own street. Putz."

Ryan gave a short laugh. "True. You know, I was thinking, Lara. We agreed to six months, but I don't think it's going to work."

"We should keep our word, and we can't afford to lose him now. Let's see how the gigs go." 

"I feel so stupid." Ryan shook her head. "Like I should have seen it, you know? But he was Nate's friend, and he seemed so enthusiastic when he auditioned."

"He's Nate's sister's boyfriend," Lara corrected, then made a face. "Try saying that five times fast. Anyway, we all thought he was serious, Ryan. It's no one's fault."

"I know. It's just been bugging me for a few weeks now and I haven't been sure whether to say anything." She huffed out a breath. "Nate and Mitch are on board, always have been, but Jason keeps wanting to rock the boat. It infuriates me." She paused to gather her thoughts. "I know what I'm doing, and I'm glad you guys trust me. If Jason doesn't start trusting, it'll be a problem."

Lara nodded. "It will. I have to say, I keep waiting for you guys to have an actual fight one day."

Ryan scoffed. "Please. I'd mop the floor with him. Hardly worth the effort."

"True. So, how are things with the family?" Lara switched lanes and subjects as their exit approached.

"The usual. I'm such a disappointment."

"No, you're not. They don't say that."

"Not out loud, but it's definitely what they think." She considered. "Okay, not Evan. But the rest of them."

"I've never understood that." Lara turned onto Route 1. "I know they're into sports, and that takes talent and work. But you have talent and you work hard, it's just different talent. So I don't see how they can be like that."

"Are you kidding? With my dad, it was sports or nothing. Thank God the boys came along, or he would have died of a broken heart."

"Come on, Ry, you're exaggerating." 

"Am I? For God's sake, Lara, they gave me a boy's name. How much more obvious could they have been that they wanted me to be a son? Geez, if they'd found out ahead of time, they probably would have given me up for adoption."

"Oh, come on. We've been over this."

"Okay, okay. I'll drop it before I start feeling sorry for myself."

"Good. I'm staying home tonight and I don't have time for your pity party." Lara nudged her arm to take the sting out of her words.

"Wow, home? What have I done to warrant the honor of your company?" Ryan feigned shock as they got to their door and she unlocked it. "Did Trout find a mermaid?"

"Oh, knock it off." Lara smacked Ryan's shoulder. "He's off on a camping trip with some friends. I don't do beds outdoors."

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"At the Marriott."

Ryan laughed. "Well, they say couples should have their own individual interests, right? So this is good. Time apart. You can appreciate him more when you see him again."

"I'll appreciate him plenty once he showers."

Ryan made a face. "Thanks for the image."

"Hey, mental hands off my boyfriend."

"I don't want my hands, of any sort, on your boyfriend. Have no fear."

"Okay." Lara grabbed some water. "Besides, you should want your hands on Brody Lang."

"Oh, please." Ryan reached in for a soda. "We're friends, ok? We talk. He's a nice guy."

"But?" Lara led the way into the living room and they each dropped onto the couch. 

Ryan stretched her legs, reveling in being free of any casts. "But what?"

"There's a but in there, I can tell. He's a nice guy, apparently single. You're single, so what's the problem?"

"Maybe I'm not looking for a boyfriend, ever think of that?"

Lara scoffed.

"Okay, fine." Ryan took a long drink. "I like him, ok? But he's a hockey player. After all the sports crap I've put up with in my life already, I have no desire to date a professional athlete. And let me point out there's no evidence he wants to date me." 

"So you're just friends?"

"Yes, friends." Ryan laughed and her friend's expression. "Look, Lara, I like him. He's funny, and he's been cool about the band, which goes a long way. But other than that, there's nothing going on."

"Hmph." Lara slumped back in her chair. "That's just not right."

Ryan snickered. "We can't all be lucky enough to meet a fish. I mean, a guy like Trout." She laughed louder when Lara threw a pillow at her. "Oh, and I forgot to tell you: Brody cooked me dinner a while ago."

Lara sat up, eyes wide. "Are you serious? He's cute, he's an athlete, and he cooks? Dear God, Ryan, if you don't go out with him I'm going to break up with Trout and take your place."

"Okay."

"I'm serious."

"Have at."

"Ryan." Lara threw up her hands. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Come with me tomorrow when I go to the party?" Ryan gave her friend a hopeful look. "Please?"

"Sorry. I love you like a sister, but that's beyond the call of duty." When Ryan pouted, Lara smiled. "Actually I can't. I'm meeting up with my own parents; my grandparents are visiting. Why are you going?"

"Oh, it's Evan's birthday. It'll be a family party with all our cousins and what not. I mean, that'll be nice and I've got his present but I just know how it's going to be." 

Lara looked at her with sympathy. "Well, it's a birthday party, though, right? So people should be . . . distracted. They should be focused on Evan."

"My parents never miss a chance to remind me of my mistakes." Ryan shook her head. "Just grin and bear it, right?"

"I'll cover for you if you want to be sick," Lara offered.

"Tempting, but no." Ryan yawned and stretched. "I think I'll go shower and chill out for a while."

"Okay. I'm going to veg with a movie. Take it easy, Ry." Lara patted her hand as she walked by. "It's only a few hours out of one day. It won't be so bad."

* * *

After going over a new song with Lara in the morning and grabbing an early lunch at the mall, Ryan made her way over to Crystal City to pick up a Zipcar. Working with Lara had kept her from dwelling on the party, but riding out to Chantilly in the little compact, she couldn't avoid it.

It's really sad when you think about faking sick to miss your own brother's birthday party. She popped in a CD and tried not to think about it. 

Other people would be there, she reminded herself. Other relatives, probably even some friends from the neighborhood. With luck, her parents would be too busy hosting the party and talking to people to give her any grief. The one thing she did not need was to be reminded, in front of people, of how her parents thought she was wasting her time, her life, "playing" with the band. 

You're not even there yet. Don't get worked up over things that haven't happened, she chided herself. She took a deep breath and advanced the CD until she found a song by Muse and calmed down.

She found a spot in front of the neighbor's house and parked by the curb. Gathering her bag and gift for Evan—she'd found a graphic novel she knew he'd been looking for—she walked up to the house. It was a nice house, a two-story colonial. There was a basketball net in the driveway, and she remembered watching her brothers shoot hoops with their dad. 

Ryan knew the air hockey and ping pong tables were still in the finished basement and assumed there'd be a pile of people lined up to play. Her dad never missed a chance to organize a game, tournament or competition if he could. She grimaced, remembering her fifteenth birthday and the way her father had insisted everyone gather outside for an obstacle course race. It might have gone over better had the party not been attended by a dozen teenage girls who were more interested in talking about boys, movies and music. She walked up the front steps and knocked before going in.

"Ryan! You're here!" Her mother was the first person to spy her.

"Of course I am. I wouldn't miss Evan's birthday." Ryan gave her mom a hug and pat on the back. "I even have a gift. Where should I put it?"

"Just over here." Judy Bancroft led her daughter over to a table in the corner of the living room. "Oh, it's so good to see you off your crutches." She squeezed Ryan's arm.

"Good to be off them. So where's the birthday boy?" A roar rose up from the basement and she gave her mother a wry grin. "Guess I'll go say hello."

Before she went to the basement, Ryan traded greetings with friends and family, then decided to maneuver into the kitchen for a drink. She tensed up when she saw her father.

"Hi, Dad."

"Ryan." He nodded. "How are you?" 

"Good, thanks." Ryan tried to ignore the awkward feeling she had whenever she talked to her father. Most people got at least a clap on the shoulder from James Thomas Bancroft, Sr.; she got a nod. With a deep breath, she rummaged in a large cooler for a soda. "So, um . . . how's work?"

He shrugged and reached for a beer. "Not too bad." 

"Great." The usual strained silence fell between them. "So . . . did Mom tell you about our gig at the 9:30 Club? We're pretty excited." Ryan didn't know why she even said it. Even if her mother had said something, she doubted her father would have listened. Or cared.

He grunted a noncommittal noise and popped open his beer. Before either could say anything else, someone yelled for James to come down to the basement.

"Looks like they can't start without me." He nodded again and left.

Ryan leaned against the counter. She'd never had the best relationship with her father, and it hadn't improved when she'd not only rejected sports but focused on music as her career choice. She hadn't been far off, she thought, when she'd told Lara that not having a son as his first child had almost broken her father's heart.

"Hey, sis!"

Ryan pulled out of her thoughts and managed to smile at her brother. "Hey, JT. How's it going? Surprised you made it home."

JT clapped her shoulder and she gave his hand an awkward pat. JT was three years younger than she was, but had been taller than she since he was twelve. He had taken after their father the way she'd taken after their mother in looks. He had their dad's brown hair, brown eyes and squared-off jaw. 

JT had been a star football player in high school, as had their father, and he'd opted to go to UMD, their father's alma mater. He'd likewise been unimpressed with Ryan's musical aspirations, although too focused on his own life to give her much grief about it.

After working out and playing football for years, he looked older than he was; she thought he could easily pass for twenty-five. She wondered if he got carded when he went out. 

"Come on, Ryan, I couldn't miss Evan's eighteenth birthday." JT rummaged through the cooler for a soda. 

"Yeah, me neither." 

"Besides, it's a lot easier now that I've got the car." 

Ryan nodded and sipped at her soda, forcing herself to think on a reply. The car had been JT's twentieth birthday present the previous June; her twentieth birthday present had been a gift card. She shook her head. "Well, it's great you could come. I know Mom and Dad like having you around. God knows why." Ryan laughed as he narrowed his eyes at her. "How's school?"

"Excellent." JT took a swig of his drink. "We've got that new guy, Dunston, from Philly. He's supposed to be one of the best receivers out there, and so far it's all true. With Barski at quarterback, and Dunston to receive, we should run the conference. I'm still undecided about the draft, though. Dad thinks I should, and my agent says I should easy go in the first or second round, but you know. You have to look at all the options."

Sports, sports, and more sports, thought Ryan. "Well, good luck with all that."

"Thanks, Ry." Another roar sounded, this time from the den, and JT took off.

Ryan wandered back out to the crowd and looked for Evan. She didn't see him in the living room or den, and decided to brave the basement. She looked around and found Evan off to the side, shouting encouragement to their father, who was facing off for some ping pong against a man she didn't recognize.

She poked him in the side. "Hi, Evan."

"Ryan!" He looked down—Ryan thought wryly how her brothers made her feel about three feet tall—and grinned. Like Ryan, he had their mother's auburn hair and green eyes. He was taller than JT by a couple of inches, and when he'd gotten into sports, no one had been surprised when he had been drawn to basketball.

"Happy birthday, squirt." She put one arm around him and squeezed.

Evan scoffed but returned the hug. "I've been taller than you since I was, like, ten or eleven."

"I know, but I'm still the big sister. So there."

"All right, all right." Evan shook his head in mock resignation, then smiled. "Thanks, Ryan. I'm glad you could make it. I thought you might have rehearsal or something. I ran into Trout the other day; he told me about the 9:30 Club. That's great! Congratulations."

"Thanks, Evan." Ryan was pleased. She and her youngest brother had always gotten along. Evan was the only one in the family who took her music anywhere near seriously. Any teasing was always good natured, and he usually asked to hear any new songs. It was a nice contrast to the way everyone else reacted.

"I'm aiming to be at your gig at Maryland, and I'll bring some friends, too."

"Thanks, Evan. I'd appreciate that." She gave his arm a squeeze.

"No problem. I'm not sure I can make it to the 9:30 Club, but I'll let you know. And tell me if the date changes or anything."

"Sure." They were quiet for a minute, watching the ping pong. "So," Ryan asked, "who's winning?"

"Dad." Evan raised an eyebrow. "Do you think he'd be this quiet otherwise?"

"Ah. Right." Ryan nodded. When their father was winning, he was focused; when he was losing, he would chatter to put his opponent off his game. She watched for a few minutes, then told Evan she was heading back upstairs.

"Don't leave before the cake," he advised. "Mom got chocolate with raspberry filling. There'll be a stampede."

Ryan laughed and went back up. She found a couple of her cousins who were still in high school and caught up on what was happening with them, then her dad came up to start the grill. It was October, and the weather was cooling, but it took more than that to keep her father from grill duty. 

The men gathered around the grill on the back patio and their conversation turned to the football season, real and fantasy; the just-begun hockey and basketball seasons; the end of yet another disappointing season for the Nationals; and the future of the Redskins, a year-round soap opera that provided plenty of material. The women went between the porch and the kitchen, helping Ryan's mom set things out, and their conversation was either about kids, or the effect of their husbands' sports hobbies. 

Ryan debated where to go. She didn't care to step out and discuss sports with the men, and she didn't have kids, nor a boyfriend, so chatting with the women was tough as well. Her younger cousins said hi when she greeted them, but they were more interested in discussing high school problems with each other and playing their handheld video games. The ones that weren't Facebooking or tweeting.




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 02



At least the burgers will be good, she thought. She had to admit her dad was a grill master par excellence. He had honed his skills for tailgating parties.

Settling into a seat on the patio for the gresh air, she tried to relax. Pieces of conversation floated to her, and it wasn't long before she felt herself tensing up.

"Yeah," said her father, "I think JT'll go for the draft next summer. I mean, why the hell should he wait? He's on pace to set the school record for tackles in a season. It'd be crazy for him not to enter."

"How about Evan?" someone asked.

"He'll be a starter, you watch." Her father's pride was undisguised. "Even as a freshman. They're nuts if they don't start him."

"Hi, Ryan." 

She looked up and smiled. "Hi, Uncle Pete. How are you?"

"Great. How's everything going?"

"Oh, pretty good, thanks."

"Keeping yourself busy?" Her uncle asked.

Before Ryan could answer, her father did.

"Ryan still thinks she's going to be a rock star." He flipped the burgers. 

Ryan ground her teeth and felt herself flush. The derisive tone rivaled the pride with which he'd spoken of Evan and JT. She kept telling herself she was used to it, and someday, she would be.

Her father continued, "Her mother and I keep hoping she'll grow out of it and get a real job. She could do more than the drone work she's doing now." He shot a wry glance at Ryan. "Don't think JT or Evan is going to support you once they've been drafted." 

Ryan struggled for something to say. "It's not like that," she managed. "We work hard."

Her father shot her a sidewise glance, his disdain evident. "If you think that's work, little girl, then your mother and I did something wrong."

Ryan excused herself through gritted teeth and went back in the house. She had to leave; her dad had pushed too far this time and she couldn't pretend in front of all these people. She made a beeline for the guest room that held the coats.

"Ryan. Hey, Ry!" Evan found her as she was grabbing her jacket. "What's up? We haven't even had the cake yet."

"I'm sorry, Ev. I was going to find you and say goodbye. Dad pissed me off. Again." She shoved her arms into the sleeves. "I know I should be used to it, just let it roll off me or whatever, but it was too much. Too far. I am fucking sick of him making me feel like a failure because I don't chase a goddamned ball around a field." She stopped and took a breath. "Sorry, I don't mean to take it out on you."

"It's okay." He jammed his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry he makes you feel that way."

"Not your fault." She took another deep breath and tried to relax her shoulders. "Look, I'll just tell Mom I don't feel well. I don't want to cause a scene and ruin your party."

"Why would you ruin the party?" JT poked his head in and Ryan groaned to herself.

"I wouldn't. That's why I'm going." Ryan grabbed her bag.

"Oh, come on. Is this about what Dad said on the porch?" JT rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Ryan, he's only being honest."

"Gee, thanks, JT." She glared at him. "When Dad insults your life choices, I'll remind you that you said that."

"Maybe if you made better choices he wouldn't say anything. Christ, Ryan, listen to yourself. You want to be in a band? Every kid in fucking high school wants to be in a band at some point." JT made a face. "Dad knows you won't make it, so why should he pretend?"

"JT, back off." Evan's eyes darted between his siblings. "All kinds of people make it in music. Who's to say Ryan won't?"

JT scoffed and shook his head.

"Well, I guess that settles it." Ryan's voice was rough. "Happy Birthday, Evan. I'll talk to you later." She gave Evan a quick hug but said nothing to JT as she pushed past him and down the hall.

Her mother was surprised but distracted when Ryan said she was leaving and only made a token effort to convince her to stay. As she got in the car, Ryan thought that would have hurt, had she not already been so upset by her father's and brother's statements. She calmed herself down as she drove out of the development, not wanting to be distracted on the highway.

Lara was still out when she got home. Ryan was a little disappointed—she'd been looking forward to venting over ice cream—but decided that some quiet time alone to read or work on a song would do more good. Not to mention, they were out of ice cream.

Knowing she couldn't work as tense as she was, she first set iTunes going and then grabbed a drink and sat on the couch. Arcade Fire segued into Radiohead and she started to relax as she let the songs play, not thinking, just listening. When her cell phone rang, she jerked in surprise and had to orient herself.

She looked at the display, surprised to see Brody's name.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Ryan. It's Brody. What's up?"

"Not much." She sat up on the couch. "Where are you?"

"I'm hurt. I thought you knew the schedule inside and out." He sounded so aggrieved she had to laugh.

"Sorry, Brody. Family stuff today. Did you play already? I'm sorry if I missed it."

"Nah. You've got some time. Starts at seven."

"Okay, but where are you?" Ryan looked at her watch; it was just after five.

"Toronto."

"Lucky you."

"Yeah, well. What can I say? I'm a lucky guy. So, how was the family stuff?"

"It sucked." Ryan didn't try to downplay it.

"Ouch. Sounds like someone needs some sushi."

She had to give a small laugh at that. "Maybe. Or there's always macaroni and cheese." It occurred to her that she hadn't eaten much of anything since breakfast and had only snacked at the party. 

"Ryan, don't say that. I can't be distracted worrying about you like that."

"You worry about me?" She was surprised.

"I worry about anyone who treats mac'n'cheese like it's its own food group."

"I'll have a hot dog with it," she offered.

"No." 

"Spam?"

He made a strangled noise.

"Sorry." She giggled. "I don't know. I was so mad that I ended up not eating, and I'm not hungry yet, but I'm sure I'll be hungry soon. How about I promise to eat something that doesn't come in a box?"

"I'd feel much better." 

"Okay then, I'll do that. You'd better go. Don't you have warmups or something?"

"Yeah, pretty soon. I just wanted to say hi to my favorite musician."

"Thanks, Brody." Ryan smiled at the warm feeling the comment elicited. "After the day I had, that's a really nice thing to hear. If you were here, I might even let you kiss me."

Brody was silent for a moment. "You shouldn't tease me like that, Ryan."

She bit her lip as a nervous excitement shot through her, then grinned. "Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?"

"You'll just have to wait to find out."

She wondered if she imagined his voice was a little deeper than usual. "Vague threats don't scare me, Brody."

"Who said anything about vague?" He paused and Ryan felt that same combination of nerves and anticipation. "Fine, be that way. See if I cook for you again." He paused again, then relented. "Get some healthy food and then watch the game, okay?"

"Yes, sir." She laughed. "Good luck."

"Thanks. Talk to you later."

Ryan smiled again as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. She was still tense, but the phone call had gone a long way towards helping her shake off what had happened at the party. Favorite musician, he'd said, and she shook her head as she got up and wandered to the kitchen. He'd said it for fun, but it had been nice to hear anyway.

In fact, she realized, she felt like working on some music. She glanced at her phone and saw that she still had an hour and a half before the game. She could work on something, then grab some dinner, then watch the game.

She went over to her computer to sort through her works in progress and see what grabbed her attention. The second song did. She listened to what she had so far and then moved over to the keyboard. In the middle of fiddling with that song, another melody came into her head and she decided to work on that and switched to her guitar. She paid no attention to anything else until a thud from upstairs made her look up and blink, then she checked the time.

"Oh, man. They're probably halfway through the first period." She got up, stretched, and turned on the television.

With the game in the background, she started searching through the kitchen for something to eat. Hunger came at her with a vengeance and she bought time with some juice. Nothing looked appealing and so she grabbed a take-out menu. Chinese food didn't come in boxes, exactly, she thought. Boxes were squares or rectangles; those cartons were more like trapezoids.



Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 03



Author's note: thanks again to my beta readers and to estragon for copy edits. Votes and feedback always welcome.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Brody drummed his fingers on his knee and bounced his leg as he sat on the team bus. They'd be on their way to Philly soon and few things got the Capitals pumped like a game against the Flyers, even though it was the teams' first meeting of the season, in mid-November.

Baxter dropped into the seat beside him. "Jesus, do you never sit still?"

"Just a little extra energy, that's all." Brody shrugged. "Plenty left over for the game. Don't worry, old man. I'll cover a shift if you need a rest."

"Smart ass." Bax shook his head. "Still thinking about your musician?"

"She's not 'my' musician." Brody's phone beeped and he extracted it from his pocket to find a text from Ryan. GWU Sat 2pm. Sent flyer email. R 

Baxter looked over as Brody tapped out a quick reply. "What was that?"

"Just a text from Ryan." Brody slid the phone back in his pocket. 

"Who's Ryan?"

Brody gave him a wry grin. "My musician."

"A girl named Ryan?" 

"Yeah. She was just letting me know when her gig was this weekend; I told her I'd show up, maybe bring some of the guys."

"Oh, man. You've got it bad." Bax elbowed him. "I told you so."

"Bax, she made it very clear that she is not interested in anything more than friends, okay? I wouldn't mind more, but I don't go over the line when it's been laid out like that."

"I do admire a man of principle." Bax snickered when Brody rolled his eyes.

They wound their way onto I-95 North and random conversations sprouted up. Bets were made on goals, assists and fights. Then attention split between razzing Obie—Anatoli Oborotenski, the team superstar—about being married, and various other guys about their girlfriends, or lack thereof. The ribbing went on until the coach stood up and issued instructions for their arrival, then resumed when he sat down.

Baxter nudged Brody. "Good thing you're not going out with this Ryan, you'd have to put up with this shit, too."

"Hey. What?" Mark Gaines turned around and looked at them. "You're going out with Ryan? When the hell did that happen?"

"Ryan?" Cole Janizak, the team captain, leaned over from his seat. "Brody's dating a Ryan? Man, you're a trailblazer." That statement grabbed everyone's attention; Brody glared at Baxter as the catcalls and comments started rolling in.

"Thanks, Bax." Brody scowled at his friend, who just grinned, then addressed his teammates in turn. "No, Gainer, I'm not going out with Ryan." He turned to his captain. "Who, I might add, is a girl. Okay, Janny?"

"Thank God. I knew she had more sense than that." Mark grinned and sat down before Brody could reply.

"Asshole," Brody grumbled, making Baxter laugh. 

"You got it bad, kid. If they're going to start giving you shit about it, you might as well go out with her and make it worth the while."

Brody grumbled some more and then pulled out his iPod. They might start giving him shit, but it didn't mean he had to listen.

x-x-x-x

Ryan sat, eyes glued to the TV, as she watched the Caps-Flyers game and munched on some chips for a snack. The camera caught Brody on the bench, talking to one of his teammates, then turning to look out over the ice.

"They're whole-grain chips, I swear," she said.

"What?" Lara looked up from her computer, where she was updating the band's Facebook and MySpace pages. "Who are you talking to?"

"What? Nobody." Ryan glanced at Lara, then back at the screen. "I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did. You said you were eating whole-grain chips. What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Sorry." When Lara kept staring at her, Ryan gave in. "It's Brody. He likes to cook and he's always after me to eat healthier food. I saw him there and had to, I don't know, defend myself."

"You're a lunatic."

Ryan hunched her shoulders. "I'm not! I don't know. It's nice he's concerned. And it's not like he's wrong. I have crappy eating habits."

"You have crappy cooking habits," Lara corrected. "You eat just fine if given the chance."

Ryan shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I could buy better prepared stuff, like at Trader Joe's. Just a pain to get there."

"So, what's the score?" Lara went back to the computer.

"Three to two, Caps."

"Cool. Brody score?"

"No, but Mark did."

"Look at you. You're turning into a puck bunny!"

Ryan threw the bag of chips, leaving a trail of crumbs across the living room floor. "I am not."

Lara leaned back in the chair, laughing. "Oh, come on, Ryan." She wiped at her eyes. "I was kidding. And on top of that, you missed me completely."

Ryan stared at the debris on the rug. "I know. Still. I'm not a bunny, puck or otherwise."

"Come on, I'll help clean it up." Lara got up and retrieved the hand vacuum while Ryan collected the bigger pieces and put them back in the bag.

"Thanks. Sorry." Ryan dumped the bag in the trash and came back to help get the rest of the crumbs.

"No problem. We all need to toss our chips sometimes."

Ryan gave her a dark look as Lara giggled.

"Look, Ryan." Lara vacuumed up the last of the chip crumbs and put the vacuum back. "It's okay if you like him, you know that, right?"

"I do like him."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I like him fine. We're not dating, I told you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Lara grinned as she threw Ryan's words back at her. "I still don't understand the problem there."

"I told you." Ryan stretched and sat back down on the couch. "I don't want to compete with sports for someone's attention. It's that simple."

"Yet you're watching the game."

"Yeah, so?" Ryan shrugged. "Besides, he said he'd come see us at GW. If he's going to watch me work, it's only fair if I watch him. And we've watched games before, to see Mark."

"You never defended yourself when you saw Mark on television."

Ryan scowled. "He never said anything about what I ate."

Lara laughed and went back to the computer. "You know what they say, Ryan. When you fight something like this, it means you really want it. Save yourself the stress and just go out with the guy."

"I thought you wanted to go out with him. I mean, he cooks," Ryan teased.

"Me? No way!" Lara looked stunned. "I've got Trout. I think he might propose."

"No kidding?" Ryan raised an eyebrow.

"Well, maybe. He takes a while to build up to these things."

Ryan couldn't help herself. "What will you say if he asks?" She gave Lara a blank, innocent look that almost hid her smile.

"Yes! What else would—?" Lara was indignant, then glared when Ryan couldn't stifle her laughter. "I ought to kill you."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Ryan shook her head and grinned. "But you walked right into that."

"Just for that, I'm leaving." Lara stood up, sniffed and put her nose in the air. "I'm going to see my boyfriend, who keeps me company and does all sorts of nice things. You can sit here alone and envy me."

"Right. I'll be sure to do that." Ryan sat back on the couch as the intermission wore on. "Tell Trout I said hi."

Lara went into her bedroom and came out with a shoulder bag. "He thinks you should go out with Brody, too, you know." 

"Why in the world would Trout have any thoughts at all about me dating?" 

"It's just a couple thing," Lara said as she grabbed her coat. "You know, you're part of a couple so you think everyone else should be part of one."

"I'm good, thanks. Go away." Ryan made a shooing motion. "Go hook your fish."

"If he's lucky, he can get his hook in me." Lara wiggled her eyebrows.

"Augh, no! TMI!" Ryan shook her head and covered her ears. "Go! Go!"

Lara left with a promise to pick her up for rehearsal after work the next day and Ryan waved in acknowledgment. The third period started and she was surprised to find herself tensing up. She forced herself to relax.

"You will not get worked about this game," she said aloud. There was no reason to, she decided. If anything should be stressing her, it should be the show at George Washington University in the District on Saturday. Not to mention that she hadn't followed any team in ages; why get worked up now? 

Because you want Brody to win, a voice popped up in her head. She rubbed her hands over her face. It was true. She'd gotten to like Brody a lot over the last few weeks and she didn't want to see him lose. In addition, she'd taken to wondering what a kiss would be like, since he brought it up in nearly every conversation. 

She shook her head and concentrated on the game. It had been a while since she'd paid close attention to any sports event, even the Super Bowl, and hockey was complicated. However, JT had gone through a major hockey phase at one point. Her father had gone along with it and so hockey had been added to the television slate, and Ryan had picked up more than she'd intended. 

As she resumed watching, Brody crossed the neutral zone with the puck. He passed it and took a step to the side to avoid the Flyers' forward who had trailed him. Ryan winced as they collided anyway and the Flyer jabbed at Brody. He responded with a half-hearted push, his eyes on the puck as he kept skating to join the play.

Ryan narrowed her eyes as the Flyer kept poking at Brody and snagging his jersey, and Brody turned around. "Don't do it, Brody," she warned. "They always get the retaliation move." She knew that much from watching her brothers play games. When he jerked away and zipped towards the net, she exhaled in relief. 

The puck squeaked back out to the blue line where a Caps' defenseman corralled it and held, looking over his options. Ryan checked his number, but all she knew was that it wasn't Mark. The d-man sent the puck back down into corner and Brody went after it, stabbing at it along the boards and getting it to his linemate, another player Ryan didn't know.

Damn it all, she was going to have to learn the roster. Grumbling to herself, she pulled out her phone and accessed the team's website while she continued watching.

Brody circled back and drifted towards the net, holding at the side and jostling with some large guy in orange and black. Ryan sat on the edge of her seat as the Caps set up and began cycling the puck and Brody tried to inch closer to the front of the net. A slap shot from the point came through, hit a stick and ricocheted, then hit a skate and went towards Brody. He and the Flyer both attacked the puck, and after a small flurry it skipped out above the crease.

Another Cap—Ryan saw the name Baxter on his jersey—rushed in and tried to poke it past the goaltender. She lost track of the puck, saw the goalie flop on the ice and huddle into a ball. There were some more jabs at the puck until the ref blew the whistle, and after a few seconds, the players drifted apart. Ryan sat back and took a deep breath as they went to commercial.

It was ridiculous how tense she was over the game. She'd even caught herself wincing when Brody had been checked hard into the boards. Ryan dropped her head back on the couch.

"Maybe I'd better kiss him and get it over with."

x-x-x-x

Saturday morning Brody woke up and groaned as his leg throbbed. He'd gone down to block a shot in the game against Philly, caught the puck above his knee, and it still hurt. Given that, he'd talked with the coach and trainer and decided to skip the day's optional skate. He stayed in bed a little longer, but sleep wouldn't return, and so he got up, making his way to the shower with a grimace. Once out, he was rubbing his hair with a towel when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Brody. It's Ryan." She paused. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"

"What? Oh, no, no. I've been up for a while. What's up?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to say hi to my favorite hockey player."

"Now that's a way to start the morning. Okay, I'm buttered up. Why'd you really call?"

"Hey. That's not fair." 

"I'm kidding, Ryan. Relax." He waited; there was something in her tone that made him think this was more than a "nothing" call.

"Okay. You're right. I didn't just call to say hi. I'm nervous about the show today and I can't figure out what to do with myself."

He considered his reply. "Well, I could offer a few ideas on that. I could even show you."

She laughed. "I'll bet you could."

"You're turning me down again, aren't you?"

"I don't think you've actually asked me anything."

"Hmmm. Point taken. Have you had breakfast?"

"No, not yet."

Brody wondered why he'd even asked. "Well, come on up then. I'll make you something."

"No, Brody, you don't have to do that," she protested. "You must have practice or something and I wasn't—"

"Just come up, Ryan. You can't go to your gig on an empty stomach."

"But—"

"Just come up." He disconnected.

Brody smiled to himself as he threw on jeans and a t-shirt and waited for Ryan. He had to wonder how a woman like that managed to keep such nice curves while eating things that had only a passing relation to actual food. Well, he decided, he'd send her off with something fun. He couldn't play a guitar, but he could make a pretty kick-ass breakfast. He dug out his skillet and went to answer the door when he heard her knock.

"Hey, it's the rock star." Brody grinned. "Come on in."

"Thanks." She stepped in and he closed the door. "I'm not a rock star yet, though," she said as she followed him to the kitchen.

"Think positive. Visualize it."

Ryan gave him a skeptical look. "What, did you read The Secret or something?"

He tossed an arm around her shoulders as he directed her towards the kitchen. "Try to be encouraging, and look what happens."

"I'm sorry, Brody. I appreciate it." 

He laughed. "It's fine. I was kidding. Here, have some orange juice." He handed her a glass.

"Thanks. Listen, really, if you have to go, I—"

"It's an optional practice, and since I have a sore leg, I have opted not to go." He flashed her a grin. "Ryan, seriously, relax. I wouldn't have told you to come up if I didn't want you to."

"Okay." She took a deep breath. "Sorry. I get a little . . . wired before gigs."

"So I see. Anything specific or just general nerves?" He gestured for her to sit at the small table in the kitchen.

"Both, I guess. You remember I mentioned Jason, our guitarist?" 

"Sure." Brody nodded as he opened a cabinet. "Drink the juice. You like eggs?"

"Most times. Not sure about today." Ryan sipped at the juice and he watched as she bounced her leg to release some nervous energy.

"You'll love these, don't worry. Now, back to your guitarist problems."

"I guess I'm just not sure he's prepared for this. I'm not sure he takes it all seriously enough." 

"Okay. So what will you do?" Brody beat the eggs and stirred the vegetables in the frying pan. 

"I don't know. He was pretty amenable to everything when we interviewed him but after a few weeks, it changed." Ryan shook her head. "We agreed to a six-month trial, and we're about halfway through. I'm wondering if we should cut it short. I mean, the last live gig we had he kept trying to expand his solos, on maybe half the songs. We covered, but . . . If he does that next month at the 9:30 Club, I don't even want to think about it." She propped her elbows on the table and dropped her face in her hands.

"Ryan, relax. You have time. I'm sure he'll come around. Deal with today and worry about the rest later."

She raised her head and peered at him through her fingers. "I hate when people say stuff like that."

He chuckled. "Sorry. Best I could do on short notice. Anyway, I'm looking forward to your show today. I'll come early, make sure I get a good seat."

"I hate to break it to you but this is a seat-free performance. It's the college fall festival and we'll be on a campus common area."

"I'll manage."

"Okay." She paused. "So, your leg. Is that from the shot you blocked in Philly?" He turned and she giggled at his expression.

"Why, Ryan, am I to understand that you watched my game? Without me even asking?"

"Oh, shut up." She tried to scowl but couldn't, and ended up laughing. "Yes, I watched." 

"I am so flattered. And yes, that's why I'm skipping practice. I have a bruise the size of Michigan on my thigh. It's better now but it hurt like hell when it happened."

"I'll bet. It hurt just watching." 

"Not my favorite part of the game," he acknowledged, "but you do what you have to. Here, eat this." He put a plate in front of her.

"What is it?" She eyed it warily.

"Huevos rancheros, and some chorizo sausage on the side." He got up, returned with the salt and pepper shakers, and gave her arm a quick squeeze. "Go on, eat it. You'll thank me."

"Okay." Ryan tried a bite and nodded. "You're right. Thanks, Brody." She gave him a rueful smile. "I do appreciate it. Beats the Frosted Flakes I would have had otherwise."

"Frosted F—?" Brody huffed out a breath and shook his head. "How can you—" He shook his head as she snickered. "You're teasing me again."

Ryan shrugged as she picked up another bite of eggs and sausage. "I might have gone for Pop Tarts." She met his eyes and couldn't hide a laugh.

"That teasing's going to get you in trouble one day, Ryan."

"Yeah, yeah. You keep saying that."

Brody didn't reply, and instead just watched her. He couldn't figure this out. She'd been clear that night they'd gone for sushi and he'd tried to kiss her. Yet here she was teasing him; flirting, even. And here he was, liking it.

"So, are you going to eat or just keep staring at me like that?" Ryan asked. "Because I have to tell you, it's a little unnerving. And I'm nervous enough as it is."

"No, I'm done." Brody shook his head and went back to his food. 

They finished and she helped clear the table, then checked her watch. 

"Thanks, Brody. I'd better get back downstairs. Lara will be here soon and we have to load up."

"It's still kind of early, isn't it?"

"Oh, there's plenty to do." She hooked her thumbs in the front pockets of her jeans. "Set up the instruments, tune what needs tuning, check the sound system; before you know it, it's time for the show."

"Cool. Maybe sometime I can watch you set up." 

She laughed. "If you want. It's hardly exciting. Then again, you probably won't hurt your leg, either."

"See? It has its advantages." Brody grinned. "Seriously, I'll be there, and I think Mark will, with Hilary. Maybe a couple of other people, too."

"That would be terrific. At least then I know we won't be playing to an empty field."

This time he laughed. "Wow, you really do get nervous. Come on, you know it won't be empty."

"I know, I know. Okay, I have to go. Thanks again."

"No problem." He walked with her to the door. "One last thing before you go."

She turned and looked up. "What's that?"

He put a hand on her arm and stared at her for a moment. He leaned down, waited, and when she made no move to stop him, kissed her. Her lips were soft and warm, as he'd imagined. He kept his touch light, then pulled back after a moment.

"Told you so," he said with a smile.

x-x-x-x

Ryan glanced around the stage as she played her guitar during the sound check. It wouldn't be perfect—outdoor shows never were—but they'd do the best they could. Her keyboards and laptop were good to go, now they just had to finish this song and they'd be done.

She glanced over at Nate and tilted her head at Lara. He nodded, indicating that he thought Lara sounded good as well. Ryan smiled to herself; as much as she sometimes envied Lara's ease with her hair, nails and makeup, she envied Lara her voice more. Ryan had learned to make the most of what she had, but she'd never have the strength or projection that Lara did.

Shaking those thoughts away, she focused again, waited three beats, then added her vocals behind Lara's during the chorus.




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 03



She darted a glance at Jason, relieved that he was on track so far. Maybe he'd turned a corner, she told herself. Maybe it was falling into place, and the friction they'd experienced was just a result of frustration as Jason tried to learn everything and fit in. 

They finished the song and she looked up to see Trout giving them the thumbs up from behind the sound board. She waved in acknowledgement and thanks, then stepped back and shook out her arms. 

"He's a handy guy to have around," she told Lara. 

"I know." Lara waved and blew him a kiss.

"I know I've said it before, but it's such a relief knowing there's someone on our side handling the sound. Remember the show we did at GMU last year?" Ryan shook her head.

"Don't remind me," Nate said. He took off his Nationals' baseball cap, shook out his hair, and replaced the hat. "That was the worst."

"No kidding." Mitch popped open a bottle of water. "The sound was so messed up."

"I couldn't hear any of you guys through the monitors," Ryan said. Nate tossed her a bottle of water and she nodded her thanks. "I couldn't tell where anybody was; it was horrendous."

"Trout told me the same thing." Lara stretched, then sat on a folding chair. "That was when he told me he could do the sound if we wanted. I had no idea before that."

"A man of many talents, and we're glad to have him," Ryan agreed. "Wish we'd known before that show." After that show, they'd taken Trout up on his offer to do sound for them, even though it usually meant paying the venue's sound guy as well.

"Okay, I want some food before we start." Mitch checked his watch. "We have an hour and a half. Who's hungry?"

"I am!"

"Nate's hungry. What a surprise," Ryan teased. 

They decided on a place to eat and although she wasn't hungry, Ryan went along. She felt more confident than she had at Brody's that morning. The sound check had gone well, and Jason had been spot-on during the couple of songs they'd rehearsed. Perhaps Brody was right, she mused with a smile; perhaps she just needed to be patient and let Jason come around. She huffed out a breath; not likely.

After they'd eaten, Mitch spied a friend and went over to say hi, taking Nate and Jason with him. Lara and Ryan stayed at the table and talked. Lara was going on about a cousin's wedding when Ryan's phone buzzed and she looked at it to find a text from Brody. Break a leg. Meet up later?

"Who's that?" Lara leaned over, curious. "Anyone who'd call you is here."

"Oh, thanks a lot." Ryan pretended indignation. "I have friends besides you. I could have a whole other life and you might not know."

"Right. Who was that?"

Ryan shrugged. "Brody. Just wishing us luck. I saw him this morning, and he said he was coming to the show."

"Wait, back up." Lara's eyes were wide. "You saw him this morning? What happened to 'just friends?' Or did you switch to friends with benefits?"

"Oh, please." Ryan laughed. "I was just nervous this morning and so I called him. He gave me breakfast."

"He's cooked for you twice and you're still just friends." Lara shook her head. "You are hopeless."

"Maybe not." Ryan sipped at her drink and stifled a smile. "He did kiss me."

Lara was silent for a moment, and narrowed her eyes at Ryan. "So, let me get this straight. You like him, he likes you. You call him and sometimes hang out. He's cooked for you. There's been a kiss. You're even watching hockey games, when senior year in high school you swore you'd never watch a sporting event, ever, ever. But you aren't going out with him."

"I said that because I was pissed that I had to wait for a ride home from GMU, in the freezing cold at a bus shelter, but JT's football game outranked me. It doesn't count. Besides, we've watched games before; we've even gone to some when Mark gave us tickets."

"We've gone all of twice. At the first one, you spent more time with your music app than watching the game. At the second one, you left after the first period. No changing the subject. Why won't you go out with him?"

"I told you. The sports thing."

"Oh, bullshit." Lara crossed her arms in front of her. "That's absolutely no reason. Hockey is his job. Other players have girlfriends, or are married and have families. Look at Mark and Hilary."

"I'm not saying it doesn't ever work, or won't." Ryan raised and dropped her hands. "I'm just saying it won't work for me."

"But you haven't even tried. How do you know?" 

"Why won't you just leave it alone?"

"I'm your best friend. It's what I'm supposed to do. Now, answer the question." Lara leaned forward and rested her arms on the table.

"Okay, look. You know what it was like in high school and all. How everything I did got shoved behind the sports. You know how many concerts we did, and they never showed. I remember coming back from a music competition in Philly, and I had to wait at National Airport for two freaking hours because Evan had some sort of basketball clinic. He was twelve!"

"Yeah, I remember." Lara nodded in sympathy. 

"Anyway." Ryan sipped some water to get back some control over her emotions. "I got used to it, because I knew it wouldn't change, but the one thing I decided out of all of that was I never wanted to come second to sports again. It would seem to me that dating an athlete would pretty much guarantee that."

Lara mulled it over. "Maybe, but I don't think that's fair to Brody. You're making a lot of assumptions. Like I said, it's his job. Everyone's job has to come first sometimes. You can't tell me that if you did go out with someone, the band wouldn't come before them at times."

"Well, and there's another thing." Ryan hit her fist on the table. "I want to do this, Lara, you know how much. You know there are times when it's work, band, work, band and not much in between. How fair would that to be a guy? To a relationship? I can't complain that a guy puts sports first, then I go and put the music first. It wouldn't be fair."

"Why don't you ask Trout?" Lara arched an eyebrow. "He manages."

"Well, yeah, but Trout's . . . Trout." Ryan shrugged. "And he helps out with the sound, the web sites, all of that; he wants to be involved. He's not a pro athlete."

"Oh, please." Lara gave an exaggerated roll of the eyes. "That song's getting overplayed."

"Gee, thanks, best friend." Ryan sat back in her chair.

"You're welcome. Listen. I know your family's priorities are messed up when it comes to sports, I do. But are you going to let that get in the way of something really good?"

"How would you know if it's any good? And, not to be a broken record on every point, but again: there's no real evidence he wants to date me."

"Oh, for God's sake." Lara smacked Ryan in the shoulder. "He's cooked for you twice that I know of, you told me he kissed you—and don't give me that 'it was just a game' crap—and he's coming to see you play. You're not that dense, Ryan."

"Okay, okay." Ryan shrugged and toyed with her napkin. "I'm not not interested. I'm just not sure it's a good idea."

"Give him a chance. You know I'm right." Lara tossed her hair. "That's why I'm your best friend."

Ryan gave her a dry look. "That must be it." 

x-x-x-x

Brody waited for Mark and Hilary near the Foggy Bottom-GWU Metro station. He was looking forward to the show and seeing Ryan perform. When he thought about growing up, he always remembered music in the background. Classical, rock, blues, even some punk—his parents had played a little bit of everything, and he and his siblings had all added their contributions as they'd grown up. He'd tried to learn an instrument, but it had been plain from the first squeak on the clarinet that music was not his strong suit. That had been disappointing, but then he'd found hockey, and all had been right in his world.

Still, he thought, it was cool to know someone in a band, and he wanted to hear one of Ryan's completed songs.

"Brody, over here." 

He heard Mark call out and looked up. "Hey, guys. I didn't know you were coming, Nils."

Nils Birkeland, a teammate from Sweden, grinned. "It sounded like fun."

"He just wants to meet girls. I told him he should come here; they'll think he's a student." Mark snickered while Nils just rolled his eyes. 

"So, where's the show?" Hilary shook her head at the two of them and looked at Brody.

"It's about three blocks up and one over. Let's go." 

Brody led them over to the stage area, where a crowd was starting to gather. He remembered Ryan's fears of a no-show audience from the morning and smiled to himself. Told you so, Ryan.

"This is so cool." Hilary looked around as the crowd grew. "I've never known anyone who was in a band."

"I had a friend in high school who got a band started," Mark said. "They were pretty good but didn't last long."

"Ryan told me a lot of bands go through lineup changes," Brody said. "She said her band is really the exception to the rule, with the four of them together for so long." He told them how they'd gone through a number of guitarists, and that Ryan wasn't sure about the current guy. "She was pretty nervous this morning."

Mark narrowed his eyes. "You saw her this morning? I thought you weren't going out with her."

"I'm not. What?" Brody looked at the others. "What?"

"Brody, think about what you just said." Hilary arched an eyebrow. "You were talking to Ryan this morning. You've been talking to her and hanging out, and you talk about her a lot. You obviously like her. What are we supposed to think?"

He stared at her. "Seriously? Come on, guys. Yeah, I like her, but Ryan's the one who says she doesn't want anything else. She called me this morning and said she was nervous. I made her breakfast, we talked for a while and she left."

Mark was silent for a moment, considering. "Okay, then. But if you screw her over, I'll have to hurt you."

"Christ, what are you, her older brother?" Brody stared for a moment and shook his head. "This is ridiculous. Nils, help me out here, man."

"Well, you have to admit, it sounded like you could have . . . ." The Swede cleared his throat. "You know what it sounded like. And you have a reputation." He looked at Mark and Hilary and had to laugh. "Come on, Brody. You set yourself up."

"When's the last time you were 'just friends' with a woman?" Mark asked, then clarified, "Who wasn't already someone else's girlfriend?"

"Look, Ryan's the one who said she wasn't interested, okay?" 

"Okay, okay. Let's leave the guy alone." Hilary stepped in and smiled. "It is possible that not every unattached woman will throw herself at his feet."

"Thanks, Hil." Brody looked down at her. "I think."

"No sweat." She linked her arm through Mark's. "Now, let's find a spot. I want a good view of everything."

x-x-x-x

She was something else, Brody thought as he watched Ryan up on stage. He wondered if she knew how happy she looked up on the stage. Serious and intent, but happy.

They'd come out on stage to a loud welcome, and Brody realized Ryan hadn't been kidding about them having fans. In fact, he wondered if she'd underestimated, or had just been modest. As they announced or launched into songs, there were cheers, and he saw more than a few people singing along. 

He wished he'd had a chance to check their songs online. Ryan had told him they were on Facebook and had links to songs, but he'd never gotten to it, seeming to get sidetracked every time he thought about it. It was just amazing, he thought, that he knew someone who could do this.

She started out on the keyboards, with the guitar strapped on but shifted to her back. When she switched to the guitar for the next song, his appreciation went up a few notches on more than one level. There was something intriguing, he thought, about a woman with an electric guitar. His appreciation rose again when she performed a solo. 

"Wow, they're great!" Hilary whistled and applauded as a song ended. "I never imagined Ryan up on stage, but she's right at home."

"Yeah, I have to say, I wasn't sure what to expect." Mark nodded. "But they are good. And Ryan, wow. She's better than the other guy. I don't know why she's not the main guitarist."

Nils echoed their comments and Brody found himself pleased that his friends were impressed, and couldn't wait to tell Ryan afterward. Assuming, he thought, that she wanted to meet up later. She hadn't replied to his earlier text, and for all he knew, she had plans with her band mates. He frowned as he realized he'd be disappointed if he didn't get to see her, surprising himself. 

After the singer—Lara, he recalled—announced the last song, he took a chance and sent Ryan another text, suggesting they meet for dinner or a drink later. 

After the band finished, Lara thanked the crowd for coming out and announced their upcoming shows. Brody watched as some people advanced to the stage, and Ryan, Lara, and the bassist came down to talk to them while the guitarist and drummer began disassembling their equipment.

"That was great. Thanks, Brody." Hilary grinned. "I haven't been to any kind of show in a while." Then she made a face. "But I have to say, being around all these college students makes me feel really old."

"You don't look that old," Mark said. 

"Gee, thanks." Hilary raised an eyebrow. "Just how old do I look?"

"Nope." Mark shook his head. "No way. I've learned that anything I say can and will be used against me, so I'm not saying anything."

Brody's phone buzzed and he flipped it open, laughing as Hilary tried to goad Mark into a response. There was another text: About to pack up. Come back and meet band.

"Hey, guys. Ryan said to come back and meet the band, and I asked her if she wanted to get together later. Any takers?" Brody asked.

"Sorry. I have to work the late shift. I'm afraid my afternoon plans require a nap," Hilary said.

"I'll help," Mark offered, and wiggled his eyebrows.

She scoffed. "Yeah, right." She tried a scowl but it didn't last. "You can take me home, but then you have to sleep or play video games or something."

Mark gave a heavy sigh. "Yes, dear."

Brody turned to Nils. "How about you?"

"Thanks, but I have to get going. Tell them I said hi, and it was a great show." 

Brody shrugged and nodded. They said their good-byes and as the others headed back, Brody turned and walked towards the stage.

x-x-x-x

Ryan was pumped as she detached her laptop and turned it off, then began to pack up her cables. The show had gone better than she'd hoped, the crowd had been receptive and supportive, and Jason hadn't tried anything stupid. Plus, she admitted to herself, it had been nice to know that Brody was in the audience.

"Hey, that was so excellent!" Lara bounced over from talking to a few more fans and squeezed Ryan's arm. "Oh, God. I get so nervous but I love being up there."

"Ignore her, Ryan, she's just fishing for compliments," Nate called out. He grinned when Lara turned and held up her middle finger.

"It's okay, I'm used to it." Ryan laughed when Lara turned to glare at her. "Okay, okay. You were terrific; you sounded great."

"You're only encouraging her." Mitch shook his head. "Remember, we had a rule: No divas."

"We broke it to keep you in," Lara retorted. Mitch just grinned as he packed away the last of his drum kit.

Nate closed the case for his bass guitar and chuckled as he walked over to Mitch. "Here, man, I'll help load it in the car. Hey, Jason, we could use another hand."

Jason threw his patch cords and effects pedals in a bag. "Sorry, guys. Gotta run. Good show. See you at rehearsal." He grabbed his jacket, put the bag in his car and turned back for his guitar and amp.

Ryan exchanged a glance with Lara, who pressed her lips into a thin line. They watched in silence as Jason loaded the rest of his equipment. He gave them a careless wave as he pulled out into traffic.

"Hold on, guys, we'll be there in a minute." Lara moved to help Ryan finish packing up her synth. 

They were all quiet for a few minutes, and Ryan felt annoyance creep in to edge out her previous good mood. Leave it to Jason, she thought, then gave a mirthless laugh. Maybe she could cite the no-divas rule as a reason to end Jason's trial period.

"Hey, there. You were right. No groupies."

Ryan looked up at Brody's voice and grinned. "Hey." Her spirits lifted and she stepped over to give him a quick hug. "Thanks for coming."

"Sorry to disappoint about the groupies," Mitch called back as he and Nate stowed cases in his car. "We can't afford them yet."

Brody laughed. "That's okay. They're probably more appealing in theory. Great show, though. We had a good time." He turned to Lara. "You sounded fantastic."

Lara turned to Nate. "See, he complimented me without any prompting."

Nate snickered. "He doesn't know any better. Ryan, you should have warned him."

Lara started over to him and Nate laughed, pretending to cower as she made to swat him on the shoulder. Trout raised his eyebrows inquiringly as he came over. 

Lara shook her head and huffed out a breath. "They all gang up on me. It's brutally unfair."

"You love it," Ryan told her, then turned to Brody. "Don't mind us, we get punchy after a good show."

"No problem. You guys look busy."

"Not really, just packing up. We'd have been done sooner but we were goofing around." She shook her head. "Sorry. Manners. Guys, this is Brody Lang. Brody, this is our bassist, Nate Campbell; our drummer, Mitch Renatti; and our jack-of-all-trades, Trout. You missed Jason."

Brody shook hands all around and again praised their performance, then turned to Ryan. "So, now what?"

"Now I get everything home."

"You free after that?"

"Um, yeah. No plans." Ryan glanced over at Lara, saw her friend's smug expression, and ignored it. 

"Dare I ask if you ate lunch?" Brody gave her a skeptical look. "Be honest."

Ryan sighed as Lara failed to stifle a laugh. "No. I wasn't hungry." She thought for a moment and brightened. "I ate some of Lara's french fries."

"Well, that settles some of the plans, anyway. We'll get some food somewhere."

All right, then. Ryan gave up. "Do you need a ride back?"

"No, I drove in. I could give you a ride if you need one."

"Oh, well—"

"Go on, Ryan. I was going to head over to Trout's anyway." Lara's grin was so wide Ryan thought her friend's face might crack. 

"Okay." Ryan had been friends with Lara long enough to know when the path of least resistance was the smartest route. She looked up at Brody. "Just let me help with the drums, then we can go."

"No hurry," he assured her.

"It's okay, Ryan." Mitch waved her off. "We've got it covered. We'll take your amp, too. Go on. See you Tuesday?"

"You bet. Thanks a lot." She got her keyboard, guitar, and the rest of her gear as Brody shook hands with the guys and complimented Lara once again.

"Here, I'll take that." Brody took the handle of keyboard case and pulled it behind them as they walked.

"Thanks." Ryan was quiet as they walked to the parking garage. 

"Everything okay?" Brody popped the trunk, loaded the case inside, then stepped aside as Ryan added her guitar gear, and closed it again.

"Yeah." She stood for a minute, then looked up at him. "Lara thinks she's pretty slick, setting us up to be alone like this."

He raised an eyebrow and took a step closer. "She did look pretty pleased with herself, I admit. Is it a problem?"

Ryan flashed a grin. "I guess we'll just have to find out."

x-x-x-x

Brody debated what they might do now that the gig was over. It was fall, so a lot of places closed early. On the other hand, the weather was still decent, so he suggested they go to Old Town Alexandria. Ryan agreed, and he waited while she changed, musing over what Mark, Hilary and even Bax had been saying for the last few days.




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 03



True, he wouldn't mind being more than friends with Ryan. However, she'd been up front about not wanting more, and he wasn't one to push once a line was drawn. Then there was the question of just what "more" would be.

On the other hand, that had been a few weeks ago, and they'd remained friends. Hell, they spent enough free time together and on the phone that anyone who didn't know them probably would think they were going out anyway. There was the matter of the kiss; it had been a bit of a joke, but she hadn't stopped him and he had to admit he wouldn't mind trying it again. Maybe he should try once more, he thought. It wasn't like he was asking her to marry him.

"Hey, sorry. Didn't mean to take so long." Ryan came out of her bedroom, dragging a brush through her hair. "I'm ready when you are." She dropped the brush and picked up a coat.

"No problem." Brody followed her out the door, and gave himself permission to admire how she looked in her jeans and sweater. He'd always thought she was attractive, but hadn't pursued those thoughts too far. On the other hand, he hadn't seen her with that guitar until today. It might be a good time to follow those thoughts and see where they led.

"I haven't been to Old Town in ages," Ryan said as Brody found a parking space. "This is a good time of year to come; parking's never that easy in the summer."

Brody grinned. "I called ahead."

"Of course you did." Ryan smiled. 

"Where shall we go?" Brody matched his pace to hers as they started down the sidewalk.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm still too wired to think about it. I could just walk for a while."

"Sounds good."

They talked about this and that as they walked over the brick sidewalks. Brody commented on the houses sitting so close to the street, and when Ryan noted it cut down on lawn work, he had to agree.

"Aren't you cold?" Ryan zipped up her coat and jammed her hands in her pockets. "It's got to be in the forties tonight, or at least it feels like it."

"Nope. In Michigan, this would be downright balmy." He wore a Capitals' sweatshirt over a t-shirt and the weather felt fine to him.

She laughed. "I knew a guy in college who wore shorts and went barefoot all year. In snow he'd wear sneakers, but no socks. Not sure if he was from Michigan, though."

"Oh, I never minded the snow. If there was snow, there was likely ice, so I was good." He paused. "I have to tell you, I was shocked my first winter here and how people panicked. I mean, three inches and they're delaying school openings? God, I can't tell how much snow I would have needed for a snow day."

Ryan laughed. "I know. My mom's from upstate New York and she complains every winter. She's always out with the SUV checking on the neighbors. And Dad." She shook her head. "He doesn't like it but doesn't let it stop him from much. Once they all but drove through a blizzard to get to one of JT's away games."

He gave a low whistle. "Wow. Dedicated."

"Oh yeah." Ryan laughed again, but it was short. "When it comes to my brothers and their games, Dad would probably drive through a monsoon."

"Did you ever play anything?" 

"Yeah. I played softball when I was younger, ran track in high school." She shrugged. "I didn't mind at first but after a while I did, because it took up time I wanted to spend on music. And it didn't measure up to my brothers anyway."

Not sure what to say to that, Brody remained quiet as they continued down King Street. As they passed in front of City Hall and Market Square, he tried again.

"When did you first get into music? I mean, first play an instrument or something?"

Ryan's eyes lit up. "I was at my grandmother's, I guess I was eight years old or so, visiting for a weekend. She had this old, boxy piano in her living room and taught me to read music, then taught me the keys and notes. I loved it. Just loved it. It all made sense, or something. It was easy for me to see the connections, like it's easy for my brother, JT, to read football plays."

"A real prodigy, hmm?" 

She shook her head. "No, not really. I mean, I caught on quick, and could even repeat a few things by ear, but I had lessons. My grandmother paid for them. They were my birthday and Christmas presents for a while." She looked up, her lips quirked in a half-smile. "Would you believe that I actually offered to play a sport in exchange for lessons, to get my parents to pay for them? How backwards is that?"

"Sounds like creative negotiation." He smiled and decided she'd had enough of that line of conversation for now. He gestured across the street. "Hey, let's check this place out. They always have neat stuff."

He took her hand and led her over to a store full of odd pieces of art. There were sculptures of all sorts: fanciful creatures, caricatured people and a few things he didn't try to guess at. Ryan laughed at a clock that ran backwards, and Brody was glad to see her relax a bit. They wandered a bit more, down to the water front and into the Torpedo Factory, which had once been such a place but was now an artists' center.

They watched some artists work, though few remained at this hour on a Saturday, then went back outside. 

"Okay, I admit it's getting almost to the point of me saying it's cold," Brody said.

Ryan laughed. "It's always cooler by the water." She leaned on a post and watched a few planes come in, bound for National Airport. Brody leaned against another one and watched her. She seemed a bit preoccupied, but he wasn't sure by what, and hoped he hadn't killed the evening with his earlier questions.

"All right, I'm hungry now." Ryan turned to him with a smile. "And I'm sorry. Didn't mean to bring down the mood. I'm really glad you came to the show, and I am having a nice time."

"Well, good, and it's about damn time you're hungry." He put his arm around her shoulder as he had when she'd come to his apartment. "Come on, we'll hit the Union Street Pub. It's warm and close."

x-x-x-x

At the restaurant, Ryan made herself relax. She asked Brody about growing up in Michigan, and he was happy to answer. They both laughed as he told her about his early efforts at skating, and hockey, and being part of such a large family. The conversation wandered over movies and, of course, music. 

"You know, I give you a lot of credit for getting up there," Brody told her. "That's pretty brave."

"It's not so bad." Ryan smiled as she sipped her drink. "They don't throw things. Much."

"That's good to know."

"We were nervous at first," Ryan admitted. "But now I don't think about it quite the same way. I get wired, like I said, but for different reasons. I'm less concerned about what they think than about performing well, technical glitches, things like that." 

"Still, to get up there and play stuff you wrote and wait for the reaction." Brody shook his head. "I'd be a mess."

"Yes, but then, I don't have people coming at me with sticks and skates trying to knock me down. The worst that'll happen to me is tripping over a patch cord."

"Give me the sticks and skates. At least I can see them coming and I know what to do."

"I'll stay with the stage, thanks. Less dangerous, most times."

"You know, you're killing my image of the brave artist, up on stage and baring her soul to the masses."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Now who's trying to butter who up?"

"Caught me." He flashed a grin. "Come on, ready to go?"

Brody took her hand again as they left and started retracing their steps up King Street. Ryan was a bit surprised, but didn't pull away. She'd enjoyed herself more than she'd expected; Brody had been nothing but great all evening. Lara had made a good point earlier—just because Brody was a professional athlete didn't mean he was like her family. She imagined Lara, waiting to cross-examine her, and shook her head.

"What?" Brody asked.

She gave a quick laugh. "Nothing, really. Just thinking about how Lara will quiz me endlessly about this 'date.' And she will call it a date."

"Any reason it shouldn't be a date?" Brody's voice was light, but he wore a serious expression.

Ryan was quiet for a minute. "I don't know. I've been debating that."

"Well, that's progress. What can I do to nudge you to the yes column? Or, let's change the question: what's the problem with going on a date with me?"

"There's no problem, Brody, except . . . you play hockey."

He stared for a moment, then laughed. "I think that's the first time that's been a strike against me."

"It's not, exactly." She shrugged.

"Come on, Ryan. Tell me."

She gave him a brief version of her conversation with Lara prior to the show. "So, it's not you. I like you." 

"Well, there's a start." He squeezed her hand.

"But it's not just the hockey, Brody. It's my band. Just like I don't want to be second to sports, it wouldn't be fair to promise more than I can give." Ryan leaned on the car as he unlocked the doors. "I know hockey means a lot to you, you've worked so hard to get where you are. I'm still working like that with the band, and I may never get to the equivalent of where you are. Sometimes I go to work, then work with the band, then do it all over again and there's not much time for anything else."

"True." He held the door for her, then closed it when she was in and went around to the driver's side. "But when you think about it, we're pretty well-suited."

"How's that?"

He eased into the flow of traffic. "Well, for starters you like to play music and I like to listen. You like to eat and I like to cook. And eat." She smiled as he went on. "Plus, the busy schedule thing could work in our favor. You're busy, I'm busy, so neither of us has to wait on the other."

"So very practical." She put her hands over her heart. "I'm swooning."

"No, you're not, and that's one reason I like you. I wouldn't like you if you swooned."

Ryan laughed at that, and Brody smiled, but they were quiet for the rest of the short ride back to Arlington.

As they walked into the apartment building, he once again put his arm around her shoulders. Ryan couldn't say she minded, if she was honest with herself. Her resistance was fading. But was it worth trying to shore it up?

"Look, Ryan." Brody nudged her chin up as they rode in the elevator. "I'm just saying I like you and we have fun. And despite your best efforts, I think you like me. I'll assume it's the cooking, but let's say you like being with me."

She tried to look stern but failed and sputtered out a laugh. "It's definitely the cooking, but yeah, you're okay."

"Whoa. Now I might swoon."

"Don't. I can't catch you." They were both laughing as they stepped off the elevator at Ryan's floor. 

She unlocked the door and held it for him as he came in. "So . . . you want to go out with me?"

"Sure." He gave her that lazy grin she'd seen the first time they'd met and a few times since. "After I saw you with that guitar today? How could I not? You know that's pretty hot, right?" At the look she gave him, he snickered for a moment, then became more serious. "Ryan, I'm not looking for a huge commitment, on either of our parts. But I do want more than what we have so far." He pushed a lock of her hair back.

Ryan bit her lip at both the touch and his expression. "I, ah, I get busy you know." She gave him a wry grin. "Plus there's the whole temperamental artist thing."

"Trust me, you have nothing on some of the Russian players I've played with. We'll be fine."

"Okay, I give up." Ryan sighed and put her hands up in defeat. "You win. You talked me into it."

"I'm a shrewd negotiator. I learned from my agent. And I also learned that you need to seal the deal." With that, he pulled her closer and kissed her.

Ryan relaxed into it. There was a little hesitation, but not much, on both their parts. His lips were firm on hers, and his hands slid around her back and held her to him. She raised her hands and rested them on his chest, gripping his shirt lightly. His tongue brushed her lips and she responded, sighing when he stepped closer and meeting his tongue with her own as he raised the intensity.

After a few moments he broke the kiss and Ryan sighed. It had been a long time since anyone had kissed her, and never like that.

"Now that is a lot more satisfying than a handshake." Brody's voice was a little hoarse, and she stifled a small laugh.

"It had its good points," Ryan said.

Brody laughed. "It certainly did. I think future ones will have better points." He gave her a quick kiss. "Good night, Ryan."

"Good night, Brody."



Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 04



(c) 2011 All Rights Reserved

A week later, Ryan was on the UMD campus. She walked over to the statue of the diamondback terrapin, symbol of the school's teams, and rubbed its head. The week had been hectic, including a tense dinner with her parents, and it felt like it was the first time in days she'd even been able to take a deep breath.

"So, let's see." She patted the terrapin's head again. "In the last week, I've filed a record number of reports at work, argued both on the phone and in person with my parents, argued with our guitarist, and picked up a boyfriend. A hockey-playing boyfriend." She shook her head. "It doesn't feel quite real." When she got no response, she shrugged and leaned against the statue's base and waited for Evan.

It had only been a week, but so far Brody hadn't done any of the things she might have expected from a person obsessed with sports. He'd called when he said he would, and left messages that made her laugh if she couldn't get to the phone. He asked about the band's progress, and although he said he wanted her to come to a game, hadn't pressed her on it. 

Ryan realized she had to give up her preconceived notions. Lara had been right, at least so far. Brody treated hockey like his job, which it was. Like anyone else with a job, he talked about it at times, and let it go at others. She needed to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"It must be a set up. It shouldn't be this easy." Ryan stared at the terrapin, but he remained impassive.

"Hey, Ryan!" Evan jogged up and gave her a hug. 

"Hi." Ryan reached up and mussed his hair. "You need a haircut."

"Yeah, I know." He grinned. "Sorry I'm late, got caught up in homework."

"They make the basketball players do homework?" Ryan teased.

Evan put a hand on his chest and took a stumbling step back. "Oh, I'm hurt! How could my own sister say such a thing?" Then he grinned. "Come on, is that the best you've got?"

She laughed. "Sorry, long week. I'll think on it and come up with something better." Then she saw the book in his hand. "So, what? You carry that to impress the girls?"

"Oh." Evan looked down, as though he'd forgotten he was carrying anything. "Oh, well. Here. Don't say anything to Dad, okay?"

Ryan gave him a puzzled smile and took the textbook he held out. "'Introduction to Architectural Principals?' Wow, Ev." She paged through and gave a low whistle. "It's all Greek to me. Wow." She handed it back. "I didn't know you were interested in architecture."

"Well, I'm not sure how interested I am yet, but it sounded neat when I was checking out courses. And you remember my friend, Reza? His dad's an architect and I've talked to him a bit about it." Evan shrugged, embarrassed. "I don't know, it may not work out."

"Why don't you want me to tell Dad?"

Evan snorted. "Are you kidding? You think he wants me to take anything resembling difficult? He wants me to take safe courses to keep my GPA up so I don't get on academic probation or anything. Of course he thinks I'll declare for the draft. He even told me, why bother declaring a major when I know I'm not going to finish it."

Ryan was silent, leaning against the statue and studying her brother. "So I'm guessing you don't agree with that plan?"

"I don't know." Evan rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be dumping all this on you before the gig."

"It's all right. I have some time, and the sound check's done. Come on." She stepped away from the statue and started walking. Evan caught up in two long strides.

"I don't know what I want," he said after a few minutes. "I mean, I love playing basketball, don't get me wrong. But I just don't know if I want it the way JT wants football, you know? Or the way you want your music."

"You still have time to decide, kiddo." Ryan put her hands in her pockets. "I mean, you've just started your first semester."

"Oh, come on, Ry." Evan barked a laugh. "You and I both know that if I do anything other than declare for the draft when I'm eligible, Dad will have a fit. He doesn't care about anything else. Last time I saw them, I tried talking about classes and if there's something beyond ignoring a person, that's what Dad did."

Ryan nodded, knowing that feeling all too well. 

Evan went on, "It was all about sports, all about basketball. And if not that, then about JT and football. Dad acts like this is all just filler until I play games. He knows I need to take the classes, obviously, but he acts like it's a waste of time."

"Dad can be tough to talk to. Not that I try anymore. You know, I'm still sorry I left your birthday like that. I was just so mad."

"No worries." Evan shrugged. "Besides, I have to tell you—I was jealous."

"What?" Ryan stared at him.

He patted her shoulder and laughed. "I wish I could be like you, Ryan. I wish I knew for sure what I wanted, and that I could just ignore Dad and do it anyway."

"I thought you wanted to play basketball."

"It's fun. I just . . . I don't know. I'm glad it got me a scholarship, I just don't see myself playing in the pros. I know it's what Dad wants, but I don't know." He shrugged. "I don't want to disappoint him."

"That's okay. I disappoint him enough for all of us." Ryan nudged him but he frowned at her dark humor.

"Ryan, don't say that. I mean, I know it must feel like that, but it's not right. It's on Dad, not you, if he's going to be like that."

She smiled. "Thanks, little brother."

"Oh, don't go mushy on me." Evan pretended to scowl and push her away when she hugged his arm. "I guess JT will have to make up for the both of us, huh?"

"I think he can handle it."

They walked for a little while longer, heading toward Evan's dorm. Once there, Ryan waited outside while he dropped his book in his room. 

"Okay, let's go." He let the door close behind him. "I guess it'd be dumb to ask if JT is coming?"

Ryan shook her head. "I doubt it. I haven't talked to him in a while, so I don't even know if he knows."

"Let's change the subject. What's new with you, anyway?" Evan asked as they headed back to the gym, where the band would play as part of the homecoming festivities.

"Well . . . okay, I'll tell you but if you laugh I'm going to smack you."

Evan raised an eyebrow. "What, did you try to rob a bank or something?"

"Oh, funny. No. I'm going out with someone."

"Really? Well, hey, that's cool. I mean, not that I need to think about my sister dating anyone, but okay. Who is it? Anybody I know?" Evan grinned. "Is it some musician with dreadlocks and tattoos that will give Dad a heart attack?"

Ryan laughed. "No, no musicians. He might have a tattoo, I guess; I haven't asked. Anyway, believe it or not, a hockey player. Brody Lang. From the Capitals."

Evan stopped and stared at her. "Seriously?"

"Yes." She smacked his arm. "Why would I make something like that up?"

"I just know how you are about the whole athlete thing. I mean, geez, if I wasn't your brother, you'd probably never talk to me." He laughed as he dodged another swing. 

"Smart ass." But she smiled and explained how they'd met.

"Have you told Mom and Dad?"

"No. No way, not yet." Ryan shook her head. "It's only been a week, just barely, and I'm not sure how it will go. Besides, I can't subject Brody to Dad. Not this soon. Can you imagine?"

Evan nodded. "Oh, yeah. Smart move."

They talked a little more, and then Ryan turned when she heard someone call Evan's name. A girl with long black hair and Indian features came up to him, her smile wide and her dark eyes bright. Ryan looked at her brother and bit back a smile at the pleased expression on his face.

"Hey, Amira." He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek.

Ryan hid her grin under her hand; Evan had forgotten she was even there. She watched as he hugged the girl, then took her back pack, which looked like it would burst. 

"So, Evan, who's this?" Amira nodded at Ryan, who had to laugh when Evan went bright red in the face.

"I'm Ryan Bancroft, Evan's sister." She held out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Hi, I'm Amira Patel."

"Amira's in my economics class." Evan cleared his throat. "And we've been going out for a few weeks now."

"Really? That's great." Ryan beamed. "If you want to know any embarrassing secrets, Amira, I'll give you my email."

Amira laughed. "Thanks."

"You want me to come to your show or not?" Evan gave Ryan a half-hearted glare, then turned to Amira. "Remember, I told you about Ryan's band?"

"Sure." Amira nodded. "I'm looking forward to seeing you perform."

"Terrific." Ryan checked her watch. "Well, I guess I'd better go if I want this to come off on time. Call me afterwards if you want, Evan."

"Okay." He grinned. "If your new boyfriend won't be jealous."

Ryan looked at Amira. "He thinks he's so funny." As the other woman chuckled, Ryan turned to her brother. "He's in Buffalo tonight, doofus. Now, are you coming or what?"

Evan chuckled and gave her a one-armed hug. "Yeah, we're coming. Break a leg and all that. And, Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

Evan stepped back and put an arm around Amira. "Don't tell Dad, okay? About the courses and . . . stuff?"

Ryan nodded. "You got it. See you later."

x-x-x-x

Three days later, on a game-free Tuesday night, Brody whistled as he flipped a zucchini pancake over. 

Mark eyed the contents of the pan warily. "What is that?"

"A zucchini pancake with angel hair pasta and a few other things. It's like a frittata." Brody sprinkled some salt and pepper on it, flipped it again.

"How the hell do you come up with stuff like that?"

"Saw it in a magazine." Brody shrugged. "Looked good, thought I'd try it. Come on, when have I ever let you down with food?"

"When you tried to mix red peppers and sauerkraut." Mark shuddered at the memory. "I can't eat either of those things now without flashbacks, thanks to you."

"Not every experiment works. We learn from our failures." 

Mark snorted. "Anyway, I'm not trying that, whatever it is."

"Fine, it's not for you anyway, you wuss. It's for Ryan."

"What is it with you and cooking for her? Every time I turn around you guys are eating together."

"I can't cook for my girlfriend?"

"No, you can cook for whoever—what?" Mark walked over and poked him in the shoulder. "When did she become your girlfriend? On the bus to Philly you said you weren't going out with her."

"And at the time, I wasn't." Brody turned the heat down on the stove. "Things change, man. That was almost two weeks ago. You need to keep up."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you going out with her?"

"Are you seriously asking me that?" When Mark didn't answer, Brody shrugged. "I bet Hilary loves it when you get all big brother. Anyway, I wanted to. I asked, she said yes, so we're going out. Very simple."

Mark looked about to say something, then turned his head and paced into the living room. Brody ignored him for a few minutes, then turned around. "What is the problem here?"

"I don't know. I like Ryan. And I know you and how you are with women."

Brody raised an eyebrow. "How I am?"

"Oh, please. You've been commitment averse since I've known you, to say the least. And I don't think Ryan is like that. I don't want you doing anything to hurt her."

"Yeah, because I'm such a monster. Because I've left a trail of broken hearts in my wake. Christ, Gainer." Brody turned back to the stove. "Look, I asked her. She said yes. We're just going out. Relax."

"Fine." Mark went to the door. "But you can't tell me the first time she tries making plans more than a week in advance, you won't freak."

"We're both busy enough that plans are made on the fly. With her band, she's probably busier than I am a lot of the time. And besides, my freaking limit on plans is more like two weeks."

"Okay, fine." Mark had to chuckle. "Just, seriously, man, don't mess with her."

"Jesus, you really are a big brother." Brody made a shooing motion. "Go away."

Mark left and Brody shook his head as he dumped his knife and cutting board in the sink. Ryan was an adult, for God's sake, he thought. He hadn't blackmailed her into going out with him. True, he hadn't been, and still wasn't, looking for the long-term stuff, as he'd told Baxter. Someday, that'd be fine; some day, after his NHL career, when he was done with road trips, potential trades, and all of that. 

There was no point in having something derailed when it was avoidable. Ryan, he figured, had to feel much the same. She was busy with her band, and was working to get busier. He doubted she was looking for the picket fence either. More likely, she was looking for a tour bus.

The knock at the door drew him out of his thoughts, and he went to answer it with a sense of anticipation that surprised him.

"Hey there." He smiled at her when he opened the door.

"Hi." She looked up with bright eyes, a little breathless. "Sorry I'm late."

"Not a problem." He stood back and gestured her in, then closed the door behind her. He watched as she strode in and rested her guitar case against side of the couch, then draped her coast over the arm. He had to admit, he liked that walk; it was confident and not just a little sexy.

She put her hands on her hips and took a breath, then turned back to him and smiled. "Hi."

"Hi." He came over and faced her for a moment, then leaned down to kiss her. "How are you?"

"Good." She leaned into him for a moment, then pulled back. "Hey, something smells good."

"Thanks." He tugged her towards the kitchen. "You're a guinea pig tonight. I decided to try something new."

"Hmmm." Ryan pretended skepticism. "Maybe I should go back for my ramen noodles."

He raised an eyebrow. "Tell me you at least added some meat and vegetables to it."

"Um, no, can't say we did." Ryan had the grace to look embarrassed.

"I don't know how you've lived this long," he said, but couldn't help a chuckle.

"But if I hadn't done that, how could I appreciate you now?"

"There's something to be said for appreciation," he allowed. "Now, sit. It's almost ready." 

Ryan smiled as she sat back in the chair. She'd had a busy day, been late for rehearsal, and had come right from her ride with Lara up to Brody's apartment, not even stopping to drop off her guitar. In the elevator she'd laughed at herself, so anxious to see her boyfriend. Not that she hadn't had boyfriends before, but she couldn't recall looking forward to seeing any of them like this.

It had been a few days, she reminded herself; she hadn't seen him since the previous Friday. Five days, she thought wryly; it had been less than a week, and here she'd been in such a hurry she'd dragged her guitar along with her.

Brody brought over the plates, each with a piece of some odd pizza-looking thing. Ryan looked from him to the food as he set glasses of water on the table. 

"What is that?"

"Zucchini pancake with angel hair pasta. Don't judge, just eat it."

Ryan did, with some trepidation, but nodded in approval. "Not bad. Not bad at all."

"Well, thank you for that glowing review." Brody shot her a look and she laughed. "So, anyway, sorry I missed your show at Maryland. How did it go?"

"Pretty good." Ryan cut another piece of the food. "Jason only ran over on two songs." She rolled her eyes. "At least it was songs where he'd done it before, so we could cover. I let him have it afterwards, but I doubt it'll help."

"Sorry." 

She shrugged. "I'm trying to let it go, for now anyway. And I did get to see my brother, Evan. He's the youngest. Plays basketball."

"And your other brother is . . .?"

"JT. Football. At Maryland, in fact." She stabbed at the pancake. "Just like Dad." 

"I'm sensing a little hostility." 

Ryan gave him a half-smile. "Sorry. It's kind of automatic."

He reached over and squeezed her hand. "It's okay."

"No, no it's not. It's stupid to get upset about it." She shook her head. "It's been that way my whole life and I should be used to it—I am used to it, really."

"Yes, I can see that." Brody gave her a somber nod, which made her huff out a laugh.

"I could bore you with the reasons why, but I don't want to ruin a nice dinner. So let's just forget about it. I'll start over. The show was fine, I let Jason have it about the songs, and I got to see Evan, so that was fun." She took a deep breath. "There, see? Now, I watched the Buffalo game and some of the one on Sunday. You guys looked good. That was a stupid call in the Buffalo game that cost that guy . . . what's his name? The Russian guy?"

"Obie?"

"No, the other one."

"Oh, Tolya Strelkov." Brody grinned. "Yeah, he was pretty pissed about that goal being disallowed. But he'll get another one."

"You got one." Ryan smiled at him.

"I did indeed. It was a great feeling, let me tell you. I was on the verge of a slump. Well, a slump for me."

They talked a little more, then cleared the table when they finished eating. Ryan offered to help with the dishes, but Brody waved her off. Instead, he took her hand and pulled her out to the living room. She laughed as he yanked her down to the couch, half on top of him.

"So, what do we do now?" Ryan asked. "Watch more Iron Chef?"

"If you want." Brody smiled. "I actually didn't have a plan."

"Okay." She covered a yawn. "Why don't you tell me about your family? I like hearing about families where everyone gets along."

He laughed at that. "Well, we get along most times, I guess."

Ryan shifted to get more comfortable and laid her head on his shoulder. "Go on, tell me. My family problems annoy me. You have, like, a dozen siblings, right?"

"I don't think five kids is any kind of horde," he said, "but it did make for a crowded house. We're all experts at the five-minute shower. Except my sister, Lana."

"Lana? No, you can't be serious." Ryan lifted her head. "You have a sister named Lana Lang?"

"What's wrong with that?" Brody widened his eyes, all innocence.

"Your parents did not name your sister after a character in Superman comics. Tell me they didn't."

"Okay, no, they didn't." He laughed as Ryan dropped her head in relief. "Seriously, my oldest brother is named Rick, then there's my sister Carla, then me, then Josh, and my youngest sister is Eileen. My mom's name, though, is Lois, so they had some fun with that."

Ryan chuckled. "I bet. So, what do they all do? Anyone else play hockey, or another sport?"

Brody paused, trying to remember everything. "Well, we all played sports at some point, but I was the only who got serious about it. Rick works in construction, and Carla is a teacher. Second grade, more power to her. Josh is a computer programmer, and Eileen is in her last year of college. I forget what she's majoring in; she changes all the time. Last I talked to her, she was talking about joining the Peace Corps or something."

"That sounds neat. Did you all get along?"

"Oh, pretty much. There was the usual sibling rivalry. Frogs were strategically placed in dresser drawers, things like that." He paused. "Usually it was rubber frogs, or spiders, but once Josh found a real frog and man, Carla almost broke the windows when she screamed."

"Nice." Ryan laughed.

"Well, my sisters were no slouches in about getting us back, let me tell you." Brody chuckled and absently rubbed her arm. "They were sneakier, too. They liked to take my hockey equipment and hide it. They'd fill my skates with dad's shaving cream." He made a face. "I can't tell you how weird that felt."

Ryan smiled. "I should have thought of doing that to my brothers." Her eyes drifted closed; between the warmth of his body and the softness of the couch, she could feel herself on the verge of dozing. She made herself wake up. "Are any of them married?"

"Rick is, and he has two kids, two boys. Carla got married last summer, no kids yet. Josh was seeing someone but I think they broke up. I think; they were kind of on and off a lot. Eileen always says she's too busy, and she probably is."




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 04



"Wow. I don't know how you keep up on all that." 

"Mom has an amazing recall, and we use Facebook. And that doesn't count any cousins, aunts, uncles, second cousins . . . ."

Ryan laughed, then covered another yawn. "Sorry. It's not the company."

"Busy day?" 

"Oh, sort of. Mostly I was up late. Couldn't sleep."

"Working on some music?"

"Yeah, some." Ryan shifted against him so that his arm was around her shoulders. That drowsy feeling crept up on her again. "I'm a little stressed about the show at the 9:30 Club."

He chuckled. "Isn't that still over two weeks away?"

"Well, yes, but I can't help it."

"Ryan, you really need to relax."

"Please? At this time of year?" She raised a hand began ticking off points. "First, Thanksgiving, then our gig, then Christmas. All of which means the pace at work increases to get things done for the holidays and people taking off. Not to mention buying presents, which with my family is the definition of 'exercise in futility.' None of that adds up to relaxation." 

"Yes, but you have one thing this year you didn't before."

"What?"

"Me." He grinned. "I'm good at relaxing, and helping people relax."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"It is. And since I'm your boyfriend, doesn't it make sense to take advantage of me?"

She laughed. "Well, if you put it like that . . . ."

"Get your mind out of the gutter. Geez. Musicians." Brody sat up and gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes while Ryan kept laughing. "Come on, come on, sit up."

Ryan pushed herself up and yelped when Brody tickled her sides. "Hey! That's not helping!"

"Okay, okay." Brody got serious and directed her to the floor and then sat on the floor behind her and began to massage her shoulders.

Ryan remained tense for a minute, then gave in. "Thanks. That feels great."

"You're welcome."

They were quiet for a while, and Ryan felt herself drifting again. "I guess I should go. I didn't realize I was so tired." She yawned and sat back, leaning against Brody's chest. Which, she thought to herself, was not a bad thing.

"You can't keep this up, you know," Brody told her.

"Hmmm?"

He shifted her so that he was half-holding her. "This pace. The stress levels. You've got to find a way to relax. Take a night off or something."

"Yeah, I'll get right on that."

He gave her a wry grin and smoothed her hair back. "You look beat."

"I am." She shrugged. "I'll get over it. Not much I can do about it now."

"I think you need a new relaxation technique." Brody wiggled his eyebrows.

"Is that so?" Ryan laughed. "I've tried yoga. Lara made me, but it didn't take. What do you suggest? Pilates? Aromatherapy?"

"No, too new agey. I like the tried and tested methods." Brody grinned and leaned down to kiss her.

Not bad as far as relaxation techniques went, Ryan thought. She shifted in his arms, turning towards him as his lips moved against hers. She let him coax her lips apart and deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue against hers. His free hand stroked her arm, then moved lower and ran up and down her side. She put a hand on his shoulder, then raised it to toy with his hair, pleased when he made an approving sound.

Ryan relaxed, enjoying the physical contact. It had been a while since she'd dated, and she hadn't realized how much she'd missed this aspect of being with someone. Not just kissing—although she wasn't complaining—but just being next to someone, or holding hands.

"We could take this somewhere more comfortable." Brody slid his hand under her shirt.

"We could, but I think I'd better go." She smiled. "Lots of work to do and all that."

"You sure?" Brody kissed her again. "Because you seem a lot more relaxed now. Maybe we should do this for a while longer."

Ryan laughed and rubbed his arm. "I am, much more. You were right, you're very good at relaxing people."

"I've barely gotten started." 

"Well, then, I'll have something to look forward to." Ryan realized what she said but it was too late to change it, so she just grinned at him.

"You mean it, don't you?" Brody feigned hurt. "You really want to go. I must be losing my touch."

"Your touch is just fine. But . . . well, this is about all the touching I'm up for right now." Ryan sat up and faced him. "If it helps, it's not you, it's me."

Brody laughed and stood, then offered her a hand and pulled her up. "That has to be the worst line invented, ever." He pulled her into a hug, gave her one more kiss, and then stood back. "Okay, rock star, you better go, then."

"Thanks, Brody." Ryan picked up her coat and guitar. "For dinner, and everything else."

"I should have made you play me a song." He nodded at the guitar as he walked her to the door. "Music goes so well with food."

"Next time." She stepped through the doorway and turned around. "Thanks again, really."

"You're welcome. Get some sleep." He reached out and put a hand against her cheek for a moment. "Go on. I'll call you tomorrow."

"All right. Thanks. 'Night." 

"Good night." Brody watched her until she got on the elevator, gave one last wave and closed the door.

He dealt with the dishes and decided it was time for bed. First, though, he needed a shower. Cold.

x-x-x-x

The next night, Ryan was sitting with her guitar, deep into a song when she heard Lara come in.

"So, how's it going with the boyfriend?"

Ryan looked up to see her friend leaning against the wall, a gleam in her eyes.

"It's going fine, thanks." Ryan went back to her song and hid a grin, knowing the neutral response would drive Lara crazy.

"Oh, come on. There must be more than that."

Ryan pretended to think, then shook her head. "No, that's all." Lara made a frustrated sound and Ryan laughed. "Okay, what is it you want to know?"

"I don't know! Just . . . how is it going?" Lara walked over and sat on the couch. "You hardly say anything. Inquiring minds want to know."

"It's . . . it's pretty great," Ryan admitted. "Brody's a lot of fun, and he helps me de-stress. He also cooks a mean dinner." 

"You do look more relaxed." Lara grinned. "With most other people, I'd say it's the sex, but with you, I'm sure it's the food."

"Oh, thanks. How would you know?"

"Because I know you." Lara sat back. "You don't jump into things. Even the band. As much as you've wanted it, and for as long as you've wanted it, you plan. So I'd hardly expect you to jump in the sack with Brody on the first date."

"Yeah, well." Ryan shrugged. "I won't lie. He's certainly made it clear he'd like that, but he doesn't seem upset that we haven't."

"Good. A guy who'd be upset about that isn't worth your time."

Ryan chuckled. "Thanks. Good to know my judgment is still intact."

"I never had a doubt. Okay, change of subject. You still coming to my mom's for dinner tomorrow?" Lara's mom always invited Ryan for Thanksgiving.

"I was planning on it. Is it still okay with her?"

"Oh, sure." Lara nodded. "She just wanted me to check. Mitch is coming, too, I think. His parents are out visiting Maria before she has to deploy again."

Ryan shook her head. "That sucks, having to go before Christmas. I guess it's good they'll see her now. Mitch didn't want to go?"

"He said he did but couldn't get the time off from work. And he saw Maria last month when she was here on leave, so that's something, at least."

Ryan nodded. Mitch's sister, Captain Maria Renatti, was a doctor in the Army and about to leave on her third tour of duty in the Middle East. The whole family was proud of her, and the band was as well, by extension. Ryan hoped Maria would be okay; she was a lot of fun and had been a big supporter of her little brother and his friends when they'd started, even helping them get one of their first gigs.

"We'll have to get her address," Ryan said. "Make sure we send care packages and stuff."

"You know, I was thinking we should add something into our Facebook page, too. I'm not sure what, but some sort of fan page for Maria and her unit. It's not much, but Mitch mentioned it a while ago and thought it would mean a lot to her." Lara tapped a finger against her leg as she thought about it. "Yeah, we can do something. I'll talk to Trout and poke around and see what's out there."

"Excellent idea." Ryan nodded. "Let me know how I can help."

"You sure your parents don't mind you missing dinner with them?" Lara asked.

"They won't be home." Ryan set the guitar down, stood and stretched. "JT's last game of the season is in North Carolina, and Dad decided he wanted to make it a big trip. I can't get the time, and I don't want to go anyway. Evan's going with them. They wanted to do the traveling tomorrow. Even if I could get the time, I can't say Thanksgiving dinner at a rest stop on I-95 sounds like a fun proposition."

"No, me neither." Lara shook her head. "Okay, well, I think Mom's planning dinner for about three, so don't eat a big lunch. Is that okay?"

"No problem. Can I bring anything?"

"Nope, Mom says she has it all under control."

"Knowing your mom, she probably does." Ryan smiled and sat next to Lara on the couch. "Your mom is a fantastic cook, and I don't know how she keeps track of all the details."

"I don't either. She wouldn't tell me." Lara laughed. "Says it's a mom secret that I'll learn some day."

"I'm not sure I buy that, and it makes her all the more impressive."

"It does. So, what's Brody doing for the holiday?"

"There's a team dinner or something, he said. They're playing in Nashville tonight, coming back right after." She shrugged. "I'm going to go to the game on Saturday, when they play St. Louis."

"Well, well, well." Lara gave Ryan a knowing look and squeezed her arm. "Going to a game. You must really like him."

"Oh, knock it off." Ryan swatted Lara's hand away, making her friend laugh. "It's his 250th game. He asked if I'd come and said some people would be getting together afterwards for a few drinks or whatever. He's been really good about the band, coming to the show and all, and so I feel like I should go. I mean, I want to, and it sounds like fun."

"You're so cute when you're trying to figure out a relationship. It's adorable, really."

"Shut up." Ryan tried to scowl but ended up laughing instead.

"I'm sorry," Lara said over her own laughter. "Seriously, I'm glad to see it's going well. I knew it would be good for you."

"Relationship as therapy? Oh, please."

"No, no. Not like that. You just get so wrapped up in the band that sometimes you don't do anything else. It's good that you're seeing someone, because it forces you to get out and try different things."

"I'm sure Brody would love to know that he's forcing me into the real world." Ryan shook her head and wondered if Lara was right. Did Ryan focus on the band to the exclusion of everything else? She wanted it, though. If there was one thing she'd agreed with her father on, it was that if you wanted something, you went after it with everything you had.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

"You're right. Sorry." Ryan leaned her head back on the couch. "It is fun, but it is taking some getting used to. I guess—I know—I expected him to act like my dad, my family. But he's not."

"Told you so." Lara tapped her feet on the floor in a happy dance.

Ryan threw a pillow at her.

x-x-x-x

Saturday night came around and Ryan felt a little weird as she handed her ticket over to the attendant at Verizon Center. She had, as she'd told Brody, gone to a couple games after Mark had given her tickets. More often, she'd given the tickets to Nate or Mitch, although she and Lara had had a good time at the games they'd attended.

Aside from her brothers, she'd never gone to a game for anyone in particular, she thought as she made her way through the crowd. She had to admit to some ambivalence about this game. Her guard was up on the whole sports issue, but Brody had only asked once, and since he'd come to her gig, and was coming to the 9:30 Club, how could she say no? 

Jesus, she thought. She was going to need therapy for this relationship.

Ryan followed the usher to the steps at the top of the section, then saw Hilary waving at her from the seats. Relieved to see a familiar face, she waved back and went down the steps.

"Hey, Ryan. Brody said you were coming. Glad you could make it. Here, have a seat." 

"Hi. Thanks." Ryan followed Hilary a few seats in and they sat down.

"Here, let me introduce you. You remember Lena, right?"

Ryan nodded. She'd met Lena a couple of times; as she recalled, Hilary and Lena were best friends, and Lena was with another guy on the team. In quick succession, Hilary introduced her to Sara, Nancy, Mina and Meg. Ryan hoped she'd remember the names; it was tempting to pull out her phone and note them all down.

"Ryan's with Brody," Hilary explained with a grin. "Believe it or not." Ryan gave her a puzzled look and Hilary laughed. "Sorry, Ryan. That's a comment on him, not you."

"Ah." Ryan just nodded, not quite sure what to say to that.

"Never mind her." Lena touched Ryan's arm and gave Hilary a dirty look. "She just likes to cause trouble. Brody's a great guy."

"Yeah, he's not bad." Ryan grinned and the other women laughed.

Lena started to say something else but was drowned out by the roar of the crowd and the blood-pumping music that accompanied the team's entrance onto the ice. Ryan looked down and couldn't help a smile when she saw Brody skate out, zip along the blue line and then around the boards to warm up.

The first period moved at a quick pace, and the teams traded goals within the first ten minutes. Ryan winced when Brody took a hit into the boards, then laughed at herself when he didn't even slow down. 

With five minutes left, Brody's line was out, cycling the puck around the St. Louis defensive zone. Ryan realized she was on the edge of her seat, hoping they'd get another goal before the intermission, but couldn't make herself sit back. 

Brody sent the puck towards the net and the goaltender kicked it out, straight to Mark, who sent it around to another Capital, who in turn threw it back at the net. Brody and his linemates drove to the net and collided with the Blues defensemen as they fought to get the puck over the goal line. 

Ryan's nails dug into her palms and the other women shouted encouragement. They sat back with groans of disappointment when the goalie covered the puck and the ref blew the whistle. 

"I can't believe that didn't go in!" Mina protested. "Unreal!"

"That goalie's no slouch," Nancy said, shaking her head. "It's going to be tough the rest of the way."

"He's good, hmm?" Ryan asked. She felt as though she should try to contribute, although she didn't know much about hockey beyond the Capitals, and little enough about them.

"Oh, yeah." Nancy nodded. "We even tried to get him in the off season, but St. Louis made a better offer. He was a runner up for the Vezina, too. The NHL award for the best goaltender," she explained to Ryan.

Ryan was saved having to think of a reply when play resumed. The Caps pressed again, but the St. Louis goalie held steady and the siren sounded to end the period with the score still tied. She slumped back in her seat, relieved it was over. The other women talked for a moment and then broke away for restrooms and food. Ryan waved off their offers and stayed in her seat, as did Sara.

"Enjoying the game?" Sara asked.

"Pretty well." Ryan nodded. "I'm not usually much on sports, but it's fun."

"Not much on sports? That must make things interesting."

"Oh, it's not so bad." Ryan shrugged. "It's not that I hate it, exactly. Just haven't had great experiences with it." To put it mildly, she thought, then changed the subject. "So, which one is yours?"

Sara gave a hearty laugh at that. "I hadn't though of it like that. It makes it sound as though they're a bunch of stuffed animals. And a lot of them are teddy bears, but they'd hate to hear me say that. Anyway." She chuckled again. "I'm seeing Tolya Strelkov."

"I'm going to need a score card for all the couples." Ryan shook her head. "I still don't know the team roster."

"I felt like that when I first started meeting everyone," Sara agreed. "But you'll get used to it."

Ryan laughed and they chatted as intermission wore on. Sara listed the couples on the team and Ryan wondered how anyone could keep it all straight. As the other women drifted back, she found out that Hilary had decided to go for her MBA and that Lena had recently gotten into a Master's program at GWU. Mina, a chef, had recently been promoted. Nancy and Meg were older and had children, and Ryan couldn't imagine how they balanced being moms with working and their husbands traveling so much.

"What do you do, Ryan?" Nancy asked.

"Oh, I—"

"Ryan's got a band!" Hilary interrupted with a grin. "And they're fantastic!"

"No kidding?" Lena said. "Wow."

The other women plied her with questions about the band, its name, their music, and Ryan was happy to answer. She realized she'd expected any conversation to center around hockey, and so the talk of jobs and family was a pleasant surprise. She told them about the 9:30 Club and the shows after that, and that she hoped they'd come. They all promised to check their schedules and then the lights went down for the second period.

Ryan let the other women's enthusiasm carry her along and she settled in for the rest of the game, trying to put her usual dislike of sports aside. 

Brody's line came out for a face off in the Caps' zone and she noted his linemates, Baxter and Callahan. Mark was out on defense, as was Meg's husband, Curt Weldon. Callahan won the puck, and dropped it back to Mark as the Caps' got into position.

Mark carried the puck up to the blue line, then passed it up to Baxter. Baxter nearly lost it to the Blues' winger, but he managed to get enough stick on it to push it away and Brody grabbed it, heading up ice with Callahan.

Ryan leaned forward and clasped her hands. St. Louis seemed to be a little off-kilter, just a step or two behind the Caps. A couple of times she expected a penalty as they tried to knock Brody's line off the puck, but the refs didn't call anything. 

Another check, another pass, and the Caps set up and began cycling, playing keep away from the Blues. 

Baxter let a shot go, but it bounced off the cross bar. Brody scrambled to get it back to Callahan, who passed it on to Weldon. After holding for a few seconds, Weldon sent it on to Mark. Mark looked for an opening and Ryan heard Hilary urging him to shoot. Instead, he winged the puck to Brody. Brody make a quick shot, which tumbled around the crease before scooting back near one of the circles. Brody got it again and slid it to Mark, who slammed it home.

When the light went on, Ryan jumped out of her seat along with the rest of the crowd. She turned to Hilary. "You know, this is kind of fun," she shouted with a grin.



Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 05



© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Author's Note: Thanks again to my beta readers and to estragon for copy editing.

Ryan gave herself a mental shake as she got her guitar out. It was Saturday, and in seven days, they'd be headlining at the 9:30 Club. She thought she must be excited; she kept telling herself the butterflies in her stomach meant she was excited.

She chatted with Lara and Mitch as they got ready. Nate came in a few minutes later, and Ryan was surprised not to see Jason with him. Mitch and Nate started talking, and Ryan turned to Lara.

"Where's Jason?" she asked. "He and Nate usually come together."

Lara rolled her eyes. "Nate told me yesterday that Jason was coming with Allison. That's why Trout's not here. Well, that and he had to go help his dad." 

Ryan nodded; Trout and Allison didn't mix well. "But he'll do the sound for us at the show, right?"

"Yes, relax." Lara chuckled. "He'll be there."

"Why is Allison coming?" Ryan couldn't blame Trout for staying away. Although she appreciated Allison's efforts with the band—she usually handled the merchandise sales at the band's gigs—she could only take Allison in small doses. She wondered how Nate had managed, as he was Allison's older brother. Then again, maybe that was why he'd moved into his own apartment right after high school.

"I don't know." Lara shrugged. "I guess she spent the night at his place or something."

"I'd say I'm surprised he's late, but I'd be lying, so I won't." 

"If he showed up on time, I think I'd have a heart attack. 

With that, Jason and Allison walked in. Ryan nodded and was surprised when Jason leaned his guitar, still in its case, against the wall. She waited, but when he made no move to begin setting up, she forced the issue. "Jason, what are you waiting for? You're late and we need get started."

"We need to talk about some things first." Allison stepped in front of Jason and met Ryan's gaze.

"We do?" Ryan didn't care for that. Allison wasn't part of the band. 

Nate frowned. "Allison, what are you talking about?"

"It's not me, it's Jason."

Ryan stiffened but made an effort to stay calm. "What about Jason?"

"You need to make some changes. He's a fantastic guitarist, but you're holding him back and he's tired of it." Allison crossed her arms over her chest.

This time Lara spoke up. "So why doesn't Jason tell us what he wants?" 

Ryan and the others turned to him. Ryan had no idea of what he might say, but she had a feeling it wasn't going to make her feel any better.

Jason stood and shrugged. "Allison's right. I opted to join you guys when you needed someone, but I'm tired of being kept in the background."

It was on the tip of Ryan's tongue to remind him that he wasn't a full member of the band yet. They'd agreed on a six-month trial period, and there were still six weeks left. She decided not to say anything yet.

"So what do you want, Jason?" Nate's voice was low, which Ryan knew meant he was pissed, even if Jason didn't.

"I want control of all the guitar parts. First off, that means I do all the solos from here on out. I'm way better than Ryan is, so I'm the one that should be out there."

Nate snorted, and Ryan grabbed Lara's wrist when her friend moved up to protest. She wanted to hear the rest.

Jason obliged. "Next, I get to say how long the solos last, not Ryan. And if I want to add something in on my own, it stays in, whether she likes it or not, and I get partial song-writing credit for it."

He want them to remove the brown M&Ms next, Ryan thought. "Anything else?" 

"Yes." Allison gave her a spiteful smile. "If you don't agree, then Jason quits."

"Is that so?" Ryan nodded. Well, that made up her mind. 

"Jason, what the fuck is this?" Mitch got up from behind his drums. "You're threatening to quit a week before our headlining gig? What the hell's the matter with you?"

"I'm just laying things out. The rest is up to you guys." Jason leaned against the wall, as though he had all the time in the world to wait for their answer.

"Okay." Ryan took a few steps back. As Nate, Mitch and Lara moved to join her, Jason scoffed.

"See, this is what I mean. You guys can't do anything without talking to her first."

"Shut up, Jason." Mitch glared at him, then turned to the others. "I don't believe this shit."

"Me neither," Ryan agreed. She felt calmer than she might have expected to, and put it up to the surprise. "So, what do we do?"

"I say we toss his ass out on the street, and her with him." Lara glared and then realized what she'd said. "Sorry, Nate."

"No worries."

"Mitch?" Ryan turned to him. "What do you think?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

She took a deep breath and looked at the other three. "So we're good with this? I mean, the gig is next Saturday."

Mitch snorted. "Are you kidding? Do you know how much we'd suck if we gave in to any of this? We'll be better off without him."

Ryan smothered most of a laugh. "Okay, then."

They separated and Ryan raised her voice. "Jason, we've talked it over."

He looked over, his expression smug and confident, matching Allison's. "So, what's it going to be?"

"We wouldn't want to 'hold you back.' You're out." Ryan kept her face neutral as Jason gaped.

"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out," Nate added. His delivery was dry and Jason's face darkened.

"Nate, what are you doing?" Allison shot her brother an angry look. "You should be on our side; I'm your sister!"

"Don't remind me," Nate snapped.

"But you had a trial period! It's not over!"

Ryan allowed herself a quick glare at the other woman. "Allison, he offered us two options. We took one."

"It's all right, Allison." Jason recovered from his surprise and affected a look of nonchalance. He grabbed his bag of gear, his amp and his guitar. "It's their mistake. Last chance, guys. Once I'm out the door, I'm not coming back."

Allison turned and glared at them as she walked to the door. "You guys are going to be pathetic next week. Good luck getting a replacement in seven days." She stalked out and Jason followed; the door slammed shut behind them.

Lara broke the silence that lasted a few minutes after their departure. "Oh, my God. Did he really think we were going to agree to any of that?" She was incredulous. "I mean, honestly, did either of them think that would work? Total, epic fail."

"I bet it was Allison's idea." Nate dragged a hand over his face. "She thinks he's the best guitarist ever and probably figured that with the gig next week, there was no way we'd say no." He looked at Ryan. "You know you're a better guitarist, right?"

She laughed. "Thanks, Nate. Part of me knows I should be upset about this, and I am, but really, I'm just relieved."

"I know what you mean." Mitch nodded. "Give it fifteen or twenty minutes; then we'll be plenty pissed off."

"Allison thinks if she comes in with all the drama, she'll cow people into submission." Nate shook his head. 

"I'm going to leave any cow and submission jokes alone," said Mitch, prompting a round of laughter. 

"We do appreciate your restraint," Ryan said once she could talk again. 

Nate flashed a grin. "Now I could say something about Mitch and restraints. I was talking to his girlfriend the other day and—" 

"No! Stop! TMI!" Ryan held up her hands. "Very funny, but we need to get serious. Time to revisit the arrangements we used last year, before Jason. You still have your guitar, right, Nate?

"We've done it before, Ryan. We'll be fine," Nate assured her. "And yes, I do. It's right over there; I left it here last week. I must have known something was coming."

"You know, guys." Mitch tapped a stick on his knee. "We've gone back and forth on this for a while. Do we really need a second guitarist? I mean, how many times have we gone through this?"

"He's got a point." Lara sat on one of the folding chairs scattered in the room. "We've done all right with just the four of us in the past."

"But when it works, when we have a guitarist that fits, I like the extra depth in the sound." Ryan dropped into another chair. "It gives us more options, more possibilities."

"I see that, but still, do we really need it?" Nate asked. "We sound fine as a four-piece, we all know that. I think I like us better that way; the sound is more basic, more stripped-down, more . . . I don't know. Honest, maybe."

"I'm with him." Mitch nodded. "Not to mention, it would save us the hassle of interviewing and auditioning and then trying out any more Jasons."

"Ryan, you're right, but the truth is, no one has fit since Alex." Lara cocked an eyebrow at her friend and Mitch and Nate nodded in agreement.

Ryan rested her elbows on her knees and dropped her head in her hands. Mitch had a point, and so did Nate and Lara; no other guitarist except Alex, Nate's roommate from college, had fit in with them. Since he'd left, they'd performed a number of times as a four-piece unit, and no one had ever complained. Was looking for another guitarist worth it, or necessary? 

She looked up. "You guys all have good points. Let's put it aside at least for now, though, what do you say? We can talk about it again after the gig. It's not like we're going to find someone this week anyway."

"Sounds like a plan," Mitch agreed.

"Works for me," said Nate.

"Oh, hey! I forgot to tell you guys!" They all turned to Lara, who was bouncing with excitement. "I got a call back from a concert promoter just before I left to come here. They'll have an A&R guy in the audience!"

"Excellent!" Mitch beamed. "Nice work!"

"Way to go, Lara!" Nate hugged her.

"Wow." Ryan felt her anxiety level jump up several notches. "So we just lost a guitarist a week before our first headlining gig, at which there'll be an A&R guy in the audience."

"Yep!" Lara grinned. "Cool, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Way cool." Ryan's stomach was in knots. "Okay, guys, let's get started."

x-x-x-x

Brody tromped into the dressing room after practice. It had been a good day so far, he thought. He'd talked with his parents and they were coming East for Christmas, along with a couple of his siblings. He hoped Ryan would have a chance to meet them. They hadn't talked much about it yet, but he assumed she'd be spending the day with her family. Still, with his family staying for a few days and coming to a game, there should be time for everyone to meet.

"Hey, Langer, big plans for tonight?" Bax called from across the room.

"Don't know yet." He threw his jersey into the laundry and stripped off his equipment.

"He needs to check with the little woman." Drew Stamenski laughed as Brody threw a knee pad at him. "Hey, man, it's okay. We all go through that phase."

"Fuck you, Stams." Brody grabbed a towel and walked back to the showers, grinning as he did.

No sense in letting Drew know he was right. Brody was planning on seeing Ryan later, but he didn't know when. She had told him she'd call at some point, when the band took a break from rehearsing. He'd finish his shower, get dressed, and give her a call before leaving if he hadn't heard from her by then. 

When he got back and checked his phone, he saw there a voice mail message waiting. He dialed in and listened to a pissed-off and distracted Ryan.

"Hi, Brody. Look, things all blew up at rehearsal; Jason quit. So we have to go back and go over arrangements so we can go on with just the four of us. We'll never get anyone on such short notice. Maybe we won't even after. Anyway, I'm sorry, I'm not sure when we'll be done tonight so I'll have to take a rain check. Maybe tomorrow? After your game? Just call me. Damn. Sorry again. Bye."

Brody texted her a reply, telling her not to worry and to call after she was done, if she wasn't too tired. Then he got dressed, wondering what to do with the rest of his day, now that it looked like a large portion of it was unexpectedly free.

"Everything is okay?" Tolya Strelkov asked from behind him.

"What?" 

Tolya shrugged. "You look upset, maybe? Is problem?"

"Oh, no. No." Brody shook his head, then thought for a minute. "Hey, Tolya, what do you do when Sara has to work and you aren't expecting it?"

Tolya gave him a wry smile. "I find something else to do."

"Problems already, Langer?" Bax looked up from his spot on the bench. "She stood you up? You're lost without her?"

"Shut up." Brody grumbled to himself; it looked like the guys were going to start giving him shit about dating Ryan. Although, at least this time he was in fact dating her.

"Come on, guys, go easy on him." Mark's eyes glinted. "He's not used to these serious relationships with intelligent women."

"Listen, asshole, Ryan just left a message that their guitarist quit, and their gig at the 9:30 Club is next weekend. They need to rework their songs because of it, so she's just working later tonight." Brody scowled at Mark, feeling only mildly guilty that he'd diverted his friend because Mark had come pretty close to the mark. Although he liked the casual aspects of this relationship with Ryan, he was surprised at how disappointed he was that she'd had to cancel on him.

Mark's demeanor changed instantly. "Seriously? He quit, this close to their show?"

"I don't know much about music, but that doesn't sound good," said Baxter. "They don't have to cancel or anything, do they?"

Brody shook his head. "I don't think so. Ryan didn't say anything like that in her message. But I guess if he's gone, they need to figure out how they'll make up for it. I have no idea how long that takes; she said she'll call me later."

"Okay, well, when you do see her, tell her I'm sorry and good luck. Hilary and I are still planning to be there." Mark slid his coat on and picked up his bag.

"Yeah, thanks." Brody waved as Mark walked off.

"So, band problems aside, how are things with your musician?" Baxter asked.

Brody considered as he gathered his things. "Pretty good, I think. I have to admit, going out with her is something of an experience. Never dated a musician before."

Bax chuckled. "Showing you the dark side of the music industry, is she?"

"Yeah, right." Brody fell into step with his friend as they made their way to the parking garage. "No, it's just . . . I don't know. It's nice going out with someone who has their own life, you know? Their own goals. The last real girlfriend I had before this, she way too needy. I mean, she had her own job and everything, but she wanted to be with me all the time." He gave Bax a knowing look as he unlocked his car. "Even I know our lifestyle isn't compatible with that."

"Points for you, kid." Bax clapped him on the shoulder. "Good to know you're not completely clueless on that front."

"I knew that time in college would come in handy."

"Your parents are proud, I'm sure. Now, let's go grab some lunch. Your treat; I bought the beer last time."

Brody killed the rest of the afternoon by having lunch with Bax, and then heading home to take stock for a grocery run. Even if he couldn't see Ryan tonight, he thought, maybe he could come up with something different for lunch or dinner the next day. One thing he'd discovered was that when it came to food, Ryan was more than willing to try anything he made. At the store, he picked up some odds and ends and, still undecided about what to make for Ryan, bought some chicken. Nothing like chicken for versatility, he thought.

As he unpacked at home he wondered what Ryan would do about food. He could just imagine her calling a bag of potato chips and a soda "dinner." He supposed he couldn't blame her. Having their guitarist quit so close to the gig had to require a lot of juggling. At least if the team lost a guy, or even a couple, to injury, they had other players to rely on to fill the gaps. 

He reheated some leftovers for dinner and then flipped on the TV, pleased when he found Iron Chef America. It wasn't quite as good as the original, but he liked Bobby Flay and Alton Brown. As the chefs were busy plating their dishes, the phone rang.

"Hello."

"Hey, Brody. It's Rick."

"Hey, man." Brody smiled and turned off the TV. His oldest brother rated his full attention. "How's it going?"

"Quiet weekend," Rick told him. "Amy took the kids to visit her mom, so it's just me and the idiot box."

"How come you didn't go?"

"We're behind schedule. First there was a question about permits, and then there were two days of rain. We couldn't do anything, so I'll be working tomorrow. But we'd had the weekend planned for a while, so I told Amy to go without me. Only good thing about it is the overtime."

"How are the kids?" Brody found it odd to think that when Rick had been his age, twenty-six, he'd been married with a kid already. Now, at twenty-nine, Rick had two. Brody couldn't see himself with a pet, much less a child.

"They're good. Want to borrow them some time?"

Brody laughed. "What, you can't return them? Lost the receipt?"

"You should try it, man. I'm telling you—you think hockey's tough, try entertaining a two-year-old for a few hours."

"Sorry, Rick. I'm just here to be the uncle who buys cool toys."

"Slacker."

"Yeah, yeah. So, what's up? Everything okay with Mom and Dad?"

"Oh, yeah, fine. They're excited about flying out for Christmas. So are Amy and the kids. You sure you don't mind putting us up?" 

"Since you'll be in hotels, absolutely not."

Rick chuckled. "I knew there was a reason you kept that apartment. You have an excuse to limit visitors."

"Damn, I didn't think anyone had figured that out." 

"That's why I'm the older brother. How about you? What are you doing home tonight? I thought you had a girlfriend now."

"I do, but she's busy tonight." Brody explained what had happened. "I feel bad, she sounded pretty ticked when she left that message. I was debating calling her but I don't want to interrupt them."

"Wow, listen to you. Should I give you advice on engagement rings?"

"What? Because I feel bad that she's having a tough time?"

"Brody, you never let anyone else stick around long enough to have a tough time. You must like her."

"Of course I like her. I wouldn't have asked her out if I didn't. Jesus, why does everyone think I can't handle this?"

"Maybe because you've always made a point of saying how you didn't want a serious relationship for, like, ever? Maybe because at, what is this, something like six or eight weeks, it's the longest relationship I can remember you having?" 

"Yeah, well." Brody scowled at the rug. "Sue me."

Rick guffawed. "Oh, come on, Brody. For all the shit you and Josh gave me when I was dating and engaged, I deserve a little payback."

"It's been four years!"

"Payback is always sweeter when they're not expecting it."

"You have always been such an asshole."

Rick laughed again and they talked for a while more, until Rick said he had to go meet a friend for dinner and call Amy before he left. After hanging up, Brody wandered out to the kitchen, thinking over the call with Rick and the earlier comments from Baxter.

Was six weeks the longest relationship he'd had? He pondered that; surely there had to be someone he'd dated for more like three or six months. He thought about high school, and then college, and realized that no, he hadn't. He'd been so involved with hockey outside of classes that he had barely given dating or girlfriends any thought. Sure, he'd known some girls and gone on dates, but Rick was likely right. 

Bax had joked again at lunch that Brody had seemed to be at a loss after getting Ryan's message, and he was forced to admit that he was. Previously, he'd been fine if the woman he was seeing showed up, and fine if she'd had to change plans. Because, he told himself, that was the way he'd liked it and wanted it. Casual and easy, no pressure for anyone.




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 05



He was saved thinking any more about it when the phone rang again. He checked the display and smiled when he was Ryan's name.

"Hey there, rock star. How are you?"

"Hi, Brody. I'm okay. Pretty beat." 

"You sound it. Where are you?"

"Just got back. I flopped on the couch and I'm not sure I want to move now."

"I have to ask—did you eat today? Anything?"

Ryan paused. "There was pizza at some point, but it's all a blur." When he grumbled, she added, "But there were vegetables! On the pizza. I swear. They were even green."

"You up for some company?" 

"Aw, Brody, did you miss me? That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside." 

"If you're going to tease me, then no, I didn't."

"I'm sorry. I was going to say that it'd be really sweet if you missed me. No one ever misses me when I'm at rehearsal."

"In that case, yes, I missed you." He grinned.

"That really is sweet. I don't suppose you have any food up there? I mean, otherwise I'll have to see what I have in a box that I can maybe microwave and—"

"Stop! Jesus, stop! You're killing me."

"You're right. I'll just go for the ice cream."

"Ryan." 

"What? It's organic. Lara bought it."

Brody went into his kitchen and started rummaging through the fridge. "Okay, now you're just doing that to annoy me. Do you want some food?"

"Yeah, I do, but I don't have the energy to do much about it."

"Fine. I'll be down in a few minutes."

"Ha, my cunning plan worked." She laughed. "Brody, that would be great, but you don't have to do that. Honest. I'll be fine."

"Oh, no." He grabbed a plastic container and checked his pocket for his keys. "You're not getting out of it that easy."

"Yes, sir."

x-x-x-x

Ryan laughed to herself as she hung up the phone. She did feel a little guilty about conning Brody into bringing her food, but she reminded herself that they had had plans, and he likely would have made dinner anyway. This was a simple matter of timing and location. 

She sat for a minute with her eyes closed until she heard a knock on the door. With a groan, she dragged herself off the couch and opened the door. She had to bite back a smile at the exasperated expression on Brody's face.

"You know, I don't deliver dinner to just anybody."

"Well, then, I'm honored." She closed the door after he stepped in and followed him into the kitchen. "I do appreciate it, really."

"Good." He set the container on the counter and put his hands on her shoulders. "Now, are you okay? You sounded pretty upset in your message."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Ryan leaned against him and smiled as he slid his arms around her. "It was just unexpected. I figured we'd have a nice, calm, run-through of everything—well, as calm as it gets with Jason—and then he comes in and . . . Oh, never mind. I'm tired of thinking about it."

"Fair enough. Come on, sit while I heat up the food."

"If I eat that, can I have the ice cream?" 

"We'll see."

Ryan laughed, then kissed him. "Does that influence your answer?"

"It might." He gave her a sly grin. "Try again and I'll let you know."

"Okay, but just once." Ryan linked her hands behind his neck and pulled him down to make it easier to kiss him. It was so easy, she thought, to just relax with him. Already the weight of the day seemed to be easing off a little, so she shifted a bit so that she rested more against him. 

He kept one arm around her and slid the other hand up until he cupped the back of her head, and tangled his fingers in her hair. She made an appreciative sound at that, and he smiled as he broke the kiss.

"Okay, I'm convinced. You can have the ice cream."

Ryan laughed and kissed him once more. "Thanks." She paused a moment. "Really, thanks. I missed you today, and I felt bad when I called earlier. I was looking forward to seeing you. I'm glad you came over."

"Well, I have to admit I missed you, too." He hugged her, dropped a kiss on her forehead, and stepped back. "I must have, or I wouldn't have brought food."

Ryan sat at the kitchen table. "So how was your day? Less chaotic than mine, I hope."

"It was good. Coach wanted us to try a new power play strategy. Took a little time to adjust but I think we got it. Had lunch with Bax, then did some food shopping. I talked to one of my brothers. Mark says hi and good luck; I told him about Jason."

"Bastard," Ryan grumbled. "Prick."

Brody laughed and put a container in the microwave. "Guess you're still a little mad about that."

"Oh, just a little." 

While the food heated, Ryan got herself a drink and she asked him about his conversation with his brother. The timer beeped a moment later and Brody pulled the food out. He grabbed a plate, arranged everything, and put it in front of Ryan. He found silverware and handed it to her, then sat down at the table himself. "Okay, so, tell me what happened."

Ryan gave him a wry smile and told him about Allison and Jason and what they'd said. Brody listened and joked around a little, but she appreciated that he understood how serious it was for her. She was quiet as she ate, and Brody talked about how his family was coming out for Christmas. He sounded as though he was looking forward to it and she envied him that.

"Thanks, Brody, that was really good." She pushed the plate away. "You're definitely the only guy to bring me homemade enchiladas."

"Not a problem. Want that ice cream?"

"No, not really." She stood and stretched. "Too tired."

"Hey, do that again." Brody came and stood in front of her. "That was nice."

She couldn't hold back a laugh. "Men. You're all the same."

"Just trying to distract you after a tough day." He grinned. "And it was nice."

Ryan laughed as they walked out to the living room. "I'll take the flattery." She rested her hands on his chest and smiled when his arms came around her. "But I'm done stretching."

"You're a terrible tease, but I guess I'll survive." 

"Who's teasing?" Ryan grinned and stripped off her sweater.

Brody looked down at her. "Wow. I think I need to sit down." He dropped onto the couch and pulled her with him so that she straddled his lap. He traced a finger along the strap of her lacy, light blue bra. "Now this is nice."

Ryan bit her lip and shrugged. "Every so often I go and get something kind of girly with Lara."

"Nice choice." 

Ryan shifted on his lap and he groaned, making her laugh. "I guess you like it."

"What's not to like?" He pulled her down for a kiss. When she rolled her hips against him again, he grabbed her waist to hold her still. When she parted her lips, he took advantage to plunge his tongue into her mouth. She responded by twining her hands in his hair and pressing her body against his.

They were both breathless when they broke the kiss. 

"You sure about this?" Brody asked. He ran a finger along the edge of her bra and watched as she closed her eyes and took in a deep but shaky breath.

"Yeah, I am." She opened her eyes. "You?"

"Oh, yeah." He rubbed his denim-clad erection against her to prove the point. "Just checking."

Ryan took in a deep breath and bit her lip. "I'm healthy and safe. You?" 

"Yes, ma'am. And prepared."

"All right then." 

Brody tightened his arms around her, fusing his lips to hers. She curled her fingers into his shirt and responded with an urgency he hadn't felt from her before. He dropped his hands to cup her breasts, running his thumbs over the hard tips beneath the smooth material of her bra. Ryan responded by sliding a hand down between them and cupping him through his jeans. He let out a muffled groan as he thrust against her hand, unable to help himself.

"Like that, do you?" She smiled against his lips.

In answer, he unbuttoned her jeans and slid a hand inside. It was his turn to smile as she gasped. "Do you like that?"

"Yeah." She rested her forehead on his and bit her lip as she rocked against his hand. "I'd like a little more."

"I aim to please." He tangled one hand in her hair and kissed her again, harder and faster. This, he thought, was a much better end to the day than he'd had planned.

Ryan didn't say anything, just tugged his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans and put her hands underneath to begin working it off. Brody hissed out a breath as her hands moved over him; he loved the feel of her hands. He'd imagined they were strong and nimble, having seen her play the guitar, and he was right. 

She worked his shirt up and he sat up so she could slide it off, then pulled her back with him, kissing her and savoring the feel of her skin against his. She shifted to adjust her balance and he groaned as she rubbed against his erection. 

She broke the kiss with that husky laugh. "Sorry. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine." He kissed her again and with an efficiency that made her laugh again, unhooked her bra. "As pretty as this is, you don't need it." He pushed the straps down her arms and she slid them all the way off. She closed her eyes as he reached up to cup her breasts. 

Ryan closed her eyes as Brody stroked his thumbs over her nipples. She splayed her hands on his chest, loving the feel of his muscles and how they tensed under her touch. She was glad she had followed her instincts and taken the initiative tonight. In fact, if he didn't move a little faster, she'd take it again. To prove the point, she pressed her lips to his and worked on unbuttoning his jeans.

"Hold on." Brody's voice startled her out of his thoughts. 

"What?" She was surprised to find herself so breathless. 

"Just, ah, just logistics." He guided her up on her knees so that he could push his jeans down although he dug into his pocket first. 

It took more effort, and a fair amount of laughing, to slide Ryan's pants down as well, but she managed to get one leg free and then settle down against him. His groan was muffled as she pressed her mouth to his neck and applied pressure. His hand slid between her legs and she bit down on his shoulder as he stroked through the wetness he found.

When she had control of herself again, she reached down and wrapped her hands around him, stroking in a firm and steady rhythm.

"Okay, okay. Stop. Just for a second." Brody took a deep breath, then looked up at her and smiled. "You have excellent hands." 

"Thanks." Ryan waited for her heart rate to get back to normal. 

"Feeling less stressed?" he asked as his hands skimmed her sides.

"Some. You?"

"Well, it's a good kind of stress." He pulled her close for another kiss, then tore open the condom package and slid the covering on, anxious to get inside her. 

Once ready, he put his hands on her hips and nudged her up, then shifted until he could lower her onto him. He pushed inside and savored the heat for a moment before moving to set a rhythm. 

"You feel really good." He closed his eyes and dropped his head back on the couch. "Really good."

She murmured an assent and Brody kept moving, making approving sounds as Ryan moved with him. She drew in a sharp breath and her body tightened around him as she came, forcing him to grit his teeth to make everything last longer. Her body relaxed, and so did he, but a moment later he could feel her body start to tense and he gave up. He thrust faster, feeling his own body tighten, and a moment later he groaned as his own climax raced over him.

They were quiet for a while, getting their breath back, and Brody kissed her before nudging her back. Understanding, she stood and backed up a couple of steps. While Brody stepped into the bathroom, Ryan realized what a mess she must look like and stepped back into her jeans. Though on the whole, she thought with a grin, it was more than worth it.

"So, how was that for some stress relief?" Brody wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead.

"Pretty good." She leaned closer and looked up at him. "I was pretty angry today, though. I might need to do it again later."

"Later, we'll do things a bit more slowly." He nuzzled her neck and bit lightly on the pulse point, making her gasp.

"More slowly?" She swallowed. "Something wrong with what we did?"

"No, no. It's just that it can be even more relaxing if you take your time."

"Well, you said you were the relaxing expert." She gave that low, husky laugh that he liked to hear.

"You'll just have to let me show you." He nipped at her bottom lip. "In a little while."

x-x-x-x

Ryan sat at her desk, willing the time to pass. It was Friday and she was itching to get out of the office. She'd been distracted all day, thinking about the gig the following night. Plus, she wanted to see Brody. 

She hadn't seen him since Sunday and smiled at the memory. They had eventually worked off enough stress that she had slept until after ten in the morning. Brody had been gone when she'd woken up, but he'd left a note and a ticket for that afternoon's game, telling her to come and noting that cheering on the team was yet another positive way to release stress.

Although her initial reaction was to decline, she decided to go. She could go to the game, or she could sit at home and worry about the gig. She had a good time: the Caps won the game, and she'd enjoyed chatting with the other women again. Afterwards, she and Brody had met up with Lara and Trout for dinner. By the time she'd gotten home, despite everything that had happened at rehearsal, she'd felt more relaxed than she had in a while. 

After they'd gotten back to Brody's place, they'd made love again. Advance stress relief, he'd called it, since he'd be gone for road games and not back until Friday. She'd laughed and gone along with it. 

She glanced at the clock and groaned. One more hour. She clicked on her work log to see which project she could make the most progress on. As she clicked on a file, her phone rang. She hoped it was Brody, but any break was welcome.

"Hello, Ryan Bancroft."

"Hi, sweetie. It's Mom." 

Ryan groaned to herself; a call from her mom was not the break she'd hoped for. "Hi, Mom. What's up?"

"Oh, not much. I was just calling to remind you about Aunt Margo's party tomorrow. It's so wonderful that it's their thirty-second anniversary. So many people don't get that far these days."

Ryan closed her eyes and counted to ten. "Mom, I told you, I can't make it. We have our gig at the 9:30 Club tomorrow night. I've already talked to Aunt Margo and Uncle Pete both."

"Really? It's tomorrow? But, Ryan, it's their anniversary. Can't you come before your show?"

"No, Mom, I can't. I wish I could, but this was set up before the dinner was, and they understand." The last thing she needed, Ryan thought, was to be with her family before the gig. She could just imagine the "encouragement" she'd get.

"Ryan, really. I don't understand why you do this. It's not much to ask that you be there to celebrate an important milestone for someone in the family, especially after all the things they've done for us. For you."

Ryan ground her teeth and counted to ten once more. "Mom, I'm not 'doing' anything. I have previous plans, and people are counting on me. It's as simple as that."

"Your brothers are coming, so I don't see why you can't, at least for a while. It's bad enough that Evan has to leave early, but at least he'll be there for part of it. JT will be there for the whole thing, and you know how busy he is."

"JT's not performing tomorrow night. You know, if one of them had a game and it conflicted, you'd miss the party." Ryan chafed at the comparison to her brothers, JT in particular.

"Well, that's . . . that's different." Her mother sounded surprised.

"How? How is it different?" Ryan demanded.

"Ryan, please. It is different and you know it."

"Right. Look, Mom, I have to go. I need to get something finished."

"All right. I still think you should be there. Your brothers are making the effort, and you should too."

"Fine. Bye, Mom." Ryan didn't bother explaining why she couldn't attend; her mother wouldn't listen anyway.

At last it was time to go, and she all but raced out of the office. She turned on her iPod and punched up Queensryche's Operation: Mindcrime as she walked to the Metro. Nothing like drugs, prostitutes and political assassinations to take her mind off her problems. When she got home, she tried to put it out of her head. She went into the apartment and found a note from Lara that said she was at her mom's place and would be spending the night at Trout's. 

Ryan shook her head. "I bet she did that just so I can't vent about my mom." Well, she couldn't blame Lara. Lord knew Ryan had done enough venting in the time they'd been friends. She flipped over the note, per Lara's instructions, and found some new lyrics. 

Just came into my head, Lara had written. See if it shakes anything loose for you. 

Ryan welcomed the distraction. She hung up her coat and went into her room to change into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, then went out to see if there was any food. 

Lara had made some chicken thing a couple of nights ago, and Ryan decided that would do. She put the leftovers on a plate, nuked them, and ate quickly. After she'd finished, she grabbed her guitar and Lara's note and sat down, noodling with no particular ideas to see if anything happened. After half an hour, she had nothing. When she heard a knock at the door, she put her guitar down and got up to answer it.

"Hi, Brody. Come on in."

"Thanks." He stepped in, closed the door and followed her back to the living room. "How are you doing?"

She threw her hands up as she walked back to the couch, and picked her guitar up again. "Just fucking great."

"Ah, I see."

"Sorry. I'm okay. Sorry."

"What's the problem?" He came closer and rubbed her shoulders. "Just nervous about tomorrow? You'll be fine." He took a step back and looked her up and down. "And I was right; you definitely look sexy with the guitar."

That made her laugh. "Well, thank you. But yes, I'm nervous about tomorrow."

"You'll be fine, Ryan. You even got in an extra rehearsal this week, didn't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." The band had caught a break when Nate as able to switch shifts with someone and they'd squeezed in a rehearsal on Wednesday night. Even so, they were going into this without as much preparation as she'd like. She took a deep breath. "So, yes, I am stressed about tomorrow, but that's not all of it. My mom called me before I left work."

"Uh oh. What'd she say?"

"Oh, she tried to guilt trip me into going to a party for my aunt and uncle tomorrow night. For their anniversary." Ryan huffed out a frustrated breath. "I've talked to my aunt and uncle; they understand. The gig was set up before the party was. I told Mom that, but that's not good enough. Well, screw it." She put her guitar down again, then dropped onto the sofa.

Brody was silent for a moment, not sure what to say. His instinct was to try to provide a different perspective on her mom's remarks, but he couldn't, and he doubted Ryan would appreciate it.

"And you know what really pisses me off?" Ryan asked.

"What?"

"If JT or Evan had a game, my parents would miss this party without a second thought. And when I pointed that out, she just said, 'That's different.' Right, different." Ryan dropped her head back.

"What did you do?" Brody was a little uncertain as he sat next to her; he'd never seen her this upset.

"I just got off as soon as I could." Ryan shrugged. "I mean, I said good-bye and all. I couldn't take it."

"She probably didn't mean anything. She was probably just—"

"Brody, don't, okay?" She dragged her hands through her hair and turned to look at him. "I know you're just trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate it. But trust me, Mom meant it. It is different when it comes to my brothers, because my dad is all about sports, so my performance doesn't rate as a reason not to go."




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 05



"Okay, I'm sorry." He moved closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders. 

She dropped her head to rest on his arm. "Not your fault. You'll see if you meet them."

"Oh, don't worry. I know how to impress parents."

Ryan gave a short laugh. "That's not what I'm worried about. They'll love you. They just don't hold back on expressing opinions of my life choices."

"Ryan, try to relax." Brody tipped her chin up. "Getting upset isn't going to help."

"I know, but I can't help it. I'll work through it." She blew out a long breath. "Sorry, I'm not much fun tonight, am I?"

He laughed. "It's okay. We all have bad days, and you're stressed."

"You're right, I am." She turned to him. "And as my boyfriend, isn't it your job to help me de-stress?"

Brody stared at her, then saw the smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I guess it is, at that." He leaned in to kiss her and was pleased when he felt her relax against him. He rested his forehead on hers. "You're bossy, but in a subtle way, you know that?"

"Is that a problem?" 

"Oh, no." He stood and took her hands to help her up. "No, I've found I like bossy women."

"Women?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, one woman." He snaked one arm around her waist and began walking her back towards the bedroom. "But I do like the one." With that, he wrapped his other arm around her and kissed her. Her arms came up and gripped his shoulders. As his tongue traced over her bottom lip, she opened her mouth and slid her tongue against his. He smiled into the kiss. 

"Aggressive, aren't we?"

"What can I say? It's the stress." Ryan kissed him again and began unbuttoning his shirt. She pushed it open and raked her nails lightly over his chest.

"One day, we're going to have to do this when you're not stressed." Brody yanked her shirt over her head and made short work of her bra, then dragged her body up against his.

"Where's the fun in that?" 

"Oh, I could have a lot of fun with that."

Ryan laughed, that throaty chuckle he was coming to love, and the rest of their clothes were gone in short order. Brody tumbled her to the bed, but then she pushed him to his back. He raised his eyebrow, then dropped his head back as she kissed his neck, and let out a surprised groan when he felt her mouth on his chest, then on his nipple. He jumped as her nails once more skimmed over his skin, but he liked it.

When she took him in her mouth, he flopped back on the bed. He'd meant, he was sure he had, to help her release her own stress. As she moved her mouth up and back down, he wondered if perhaps she preferred more active ways of getting rid of stress. Her tongue swept over the tip as she began to stroke him with her hand. That lasted less than a minute before he stopped her.

"Get over here." He pulled her up so he could kiss her and then rolled her over. "My turn." 

Before she could react, he moved down her body. He licked and laved her nipples, then went lower, loving how she shuddered when he ran his tongue over her navel. Sliding further back, he paused to see what she would do; he didn't want to press her for anything she didn't want. When she reached down to touch his shoulder, he took that as permission.

She cried out and her hips bucked as his tongue glided over her sex. He grasped her sides and continued, teasing her with long, slow licks followed by quick kisses, then back. He varied his pace because he liked hearing the sounds she made. He kept her on the edge for a few moments, and then sent her over, waiting until she was limp before he stopped.

Ryan lay on the bed, wondering what had happened. She heard Brody moving and then he was over her. Although she liked how his body covered hers, she nudged him again until he was on his back, then swung her leg over him.

"Hey, that's nice." He reached up and ran his hands over her shoulders, her arms, and then her breasts. "Oh, that's nicer." He put his hands on her waist to guide her as she slid down, taking him inside her.

She was warm and wet and he wouldn't last long like this, he knew, but that was all right. Ryan leaned down and kissed him as she rolled her hips against him. She broke the kiss on a small cry as she came again. That did it for Brody; he captured her lips again while his hands gripped her hips and held her against him. He fell back with a groan. When Ryan collapsed on top of him, he wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back.

After a moment, Ryan looked up. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." 

She pushed herself up and chuckled at his mock efforts to keep her in place. A few minutes later, Brody threw on his jeans and Ryan grabbed an oversized t-shirt. She followed him out to the kitchen and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"Good luck finding anything. I didn't have much time for shopping this week," she told him.

"A good chef is a creative chef. I'll manage."

As they sat down to watch a movie, Ryan curled up next to him on the couch. "I'm glad you came over, Brody. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Next time, though, either I bring food, or you come to my place. This was a serious test of my abilities."

Ryan laughed. "Deal. And I'll figure out some way to reciprocate."

"You know how I said you're sexy with the guitar?" 

"Yes. So?" She gave him a wary look.

"I think you'd look even sexier if you were naked with the guitar." 

She laughed and placed a quick but promising kiss on lips. "Maybe someday."



Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 06



Author's note: First, thanks to my beta readers for reading and estragon for copy edits. Thanks also to MugsyB and LettersfromTatyana for letting me borrow some characters.

The next morning, Ryan stretched and rolled over in her bed, but Brody wasn't there. She blinked awake and frowned, wondering how late it was and why he would have left. So far as she knew, he had nothing going on today. She took a deep breath, smelled food cooking, and smiled. She rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, then ran a brush through her hair and went out into the kitchen.

"Hey. A person could get used to this." She leaned against one side of the doorway.

He turned and gave her a mock-stern look. "Don't get too used to it. I had to run up to my place to get stuff to cook. Do you guys ever go grocery shopping?"

Ryan laughed and stepped over, then leaned against the counter. "Yeah, we do, every week or so. Lara eats at her mom's about once a week and usually brings back some leftovers. A lot of the rest of the time, she's with Trout. I think they share the cooking."

He took a moment to kiss her, then went back to the stove. "Okay, that explains her. What about you?"

She shrugged. "I manage. I know I do fast food more than I should. I try to get decent frozen meals." She held up her hands when he frowned at her. "Look, I'm not much on cooking. Can't help it. I do the best I can."

"Well, at least you make the effort on the frozen stuff. That's not so bad."

"So glad you approve." She gave him a wry look and went to get a drink. "Look, see? Orange juice."

"That's mine. Help yourself."

"Really? It's yours?" Ryan stared at the carton. "I could have sworn we had some." 

Brody laughed. "You did. It smelled terrible. I tossed it and brought some down. Come on, sit, this is about ready."

Ryan got out plates and silverware and put them on the table, then poured two glasses of juice and brought them over as well. She sat down and took a deep breath.

"Wow, that smells great. Much better than the Pop Tarts I'd planned on."

"You're saying that just to bait me, and I'm not taking it."

Ryan laughed. "Okay, you're right. Thanks, I do appreciate it. It'll be a good start to a long day."

"Yeah, I meant to ask." Brody took a bite of eggs and then a drink of juice. "What do rock stars do on show days?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure what rock stars do. I'll meet everyone at the club around two or so and we'll set up and go through a sound check. Then we'll pretty much be free until the evening, which means I'll have to distract myself from worrying about it. There'll be two acts before us."

"I saw that on the club's website. Are they any good?"

Ryan nodded and took another bite of her food. "Yeah, they are. I think you'll like them both. We'll be there in time for those shows; it's just polite, you know? And we know most of them. It's a small world, so we want to help each other out. That should all start by eight-thirty, maybe nine if things run late."

Brody gave a low whistle. "So, when will you guys be on?"

"Ten-thirty, eleven, maybe. We're quite the night owls."

"Sounds like a lot of hurry up and wait."

"Yeah, some. Just how it works, though." She finished and pushed her plate away. "Thanks," she said as she sat back in her chair. "That was great."

"You're welcome, and glad you enjoyed it." He slid his plate over and leaned forward. "What will you do today after the sound check?"

"I don't know. I thought I might see Evan, but he said he's got homework and a basketball thing and then he has to go the anniversary dinner, so he's going straight to the club after that."

"What about Lara and the others?"

"I don't know. Sometimes we hang together, sometimes not. Depends on what's going on. Mitch has a girlfriend, but she's not so . . . she doesn't like us much." Ryan paused. "Her name's Valerie, and she seems nice enough, but she always seems a bit distant or something. Anyway, Lara will be with Trout, and he'll be handling the sound, and then Nate, I don't know."

"I guess I'll just have to keep you company, then." He sat back and shook his head. "I don't see any way around it."

Ryan laughed. "You really don't have to. I'll be fine. I've done this before. Not as the headliner, but I've done it."

"Yeah, I know, but what the hell." He shrugged. "I do have to go to a video session, but that won't take long. Maybe I can catch up with you for the sound check. And . . . maybe I can help with a bit more stress relief before the show."

Ryan giggled, then giggled some more and couldn't stop. Brody gave her a quizzical look.

"Nothing, nothing, sorry." She waved a hand as her laughter subsided, although her shoulders shook with residual chuckles. "I was just thinking that Lara said a relationship would be good therapy for me. It looks like she was right."

"I feel so used." He pretended hurt, then grinned. "Not that I mind."

Ryan stared and fell into another fit of laughter. "I think you really are good for me, you know that?"

"Hey, I do what I can."

x-x-x-x

For a while, Brody put Ryan and the show out of his head; he had to concentrate on the video. He and his teammates watched as the coaches pointed out flaws in the team's play, as well as times they'd failed to take advantage of flaws in the opposition's. Brody ground his teeth when he saw footage of himself out of position, leaving a winger open for a pass that might have been a goal but for the goalie's fast reflexes on a kick save.

"Now, this isn't going to happen again," the coach said. He looked around the room. "There are half a dozen games before the New Year, and I don't want to see this happen in a single goddamned one of them. This is sloppy!" He slammed his hand on a table. "And we don't fucking play sloppy! Sloppy doesn't get you into the fucking playoffs. Sloppy doesn't win you the fucking Stanley Cup." 

Murmurs of "Yes, Coach," came from the team, and Brody nodded in acknowledgment.

"Now, get out of here." The coach tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Go Christmas shopping or something, get any distractions out of your system, and then I want everyone's mind on the game tomorrow."

The players drifted out of the room in twos and threes. Mark came up and nudged Brody. "So, how are you going to spend your afternoon? Pining—I mean, waiting until the show?"

"Dick." Brody shot him a glance and fought a grin. "Where are you reporting?" 

"Oh, I'm going to meet Hilary at—" Mark glared at him as Brody burst out laughing. "You're an ass."

"Hey, I'm not the one who's 'reporting' to his girlfriend." Brody chortled. "And if you really want to know, I'm going to go over to the club, try to catch them during the sound check."

"Now who's reporting?"

"Jackass." Brody elbowed him. "I thought it might be neat, and Ryan said it would be okay. Then, I don't know, we'll hang out. She said she's got time to kill before the show, and knowing her, if she doesn't have something to distract her, she'll just stress about it."

"Right." Mark grinned and nodded. "That's your story and you're sticking to it." He turned to Baxter, who'd followed them out. "Hey, guys, you hear that?"

"Oh yeah." Bax laughed. "I'm sure he's got all kinds of 'distractions' in mind." He paused. "What are you going to do after the first five minutes?" 

"You've been away from your wife too long, Bax." Body shook his head. "Get your mind out of the gutter, man." 

"Okay, guys, I'm out of here." Mark walked over to his SUV now that they'd reached the parking garage. "I'll be at the show, Brody. Hilary, too."

"Me, too," said Bax.

"Cool." Brody nodded. "Ryan will appreciate that, seriously. I'll see you guys later." He waved and strode over to his own car and got in.

The others watched him drive away. Mark spoke first. "Must be serious."

Bax chuckled. "Oh, it's serious. Even if he won't admit it."

x-x-x-x

At the sound check, Ryan found herself more relaxed than she'd ever been preparing for a gig. It almost made her laugh. Jason's absence was liberating, and added weight to the others' argument that perhaps they shouldn't replace him. She still wasn't sure, but had to admit the idea was appealing, especially if it meant reduced stress levels like this.

She looked up and saw Trout, who was nodding as he adjusted levels on the sound board. Brody was up there, too, standing back so as not to get in the way. She'd seen Trout explain a few things to Brody as they went along, and wondered what Brody thought of it all.

They finished the song and Trout gave them a thumbs-up. Ryan and the others acknowledged him with waves, then turned to pack up the instruments. Mitch broke down his drums, and Ryan and Nate gathered up their patch cords and effects pedals before putting their guitars in cases.

"Wow. I can't believe it's here." Nate shook his head as he snapped the case shut on his guitar, then moved to do the same for his bass.

"I know, and I can't believe how relaxed I am. Mostly," Ryan said. Lara held Ryan's laptop while the latter put the keyboard in its case, then put away her guitar. 

"Funny how taking the asshole out of the equation makes things easier," Mitch said.

Ryan laughed. "I thought the same thing. Maybe not in so many words." 

"So, you think maybe we stay this way?" Nate looked over at her as they walked back to the dressing room with their gear. They put everything inside and then locked the door. 

Ryan shrugged as they walked back out front. "I don't know. It certainly sounds good. I mean, I'm a lot less stressed about this show than I was before. Let's face it: not having to worry about what Jason will or won't do takes a big load off."

"That it does." Lara nodded, then grinned. "I bet there's another reason you're less stressed."

"No. No, no, no." Nate held his hands up and backed away. "I can guess where this is going and I don't want to hear it."

Mitch made a face. "Me, neither. Go have your . . . I don't know, girl talk sessions somewhere else. Where I can't hear it." He gave an exaggerated shudder. 

Lara and Ryan traded amused glances.

"You guys are such wusses," Ryan said.

"Careful, I'll go get Jason back." Nate just managed to keep a straight face and the women burst out laughing.

"The hell you will." Mitch glared at him and punched his shoulder. "I'd have to hurt you, man. A lot."

Nate gave him a wry look. "Take a number. Allison is still pissed at me. Oh, which reminds me." He reached for a bottle of water and took a long drink. "Don't be surprised if she and Jason show up tonight. She's got into her head that we're going to go down in flames in a big way."

"Is that so?" Ryan grinned. "Well, I think she'll be disappointed."

"Hell, yeah, she will." said Lara. "We're going to kick ass tonight, and that A&R guy will be begging us to join that tour." 

"On that optimistic note, I'm out of here for a while, guys." Mitch grabbed his coat. "Mom said Maria was going to try to call on Skype, so I want to be there. Be back in plenty of time, though."

"How's she doing?" Ryan asked, and the others echoed her.

"Good so far." Mitch nodded. "It's quiet, for the moment. I did have an email this morning, and she said thanks for setting up the Facebook thing. The unit's been getting a kick out of the messages people have been leaving."

"Great." Ryan squeezed Lara's shoulders; her friend had done all the work setting that up. "Tell her we're proud of her and want her back soon."

"You're not kidding. I hope the deployment's shorter this time, but she's looking at a year, I'm sure." Mitch looked over as Brody came over to them. "Hey, Brody, what's up?"

"Not much." He shook hands with Mitch, then stepped over next to Ryan. "That was something. I had no idea what went on with the sound. I still don't, but it was cool to watch Trout." Ryan looked over; Trout was still at the sound board as No More Trees, the second of the opening bands, set up for their sound check.

Before Ryan could say anything, she heard someone calling her name. She turned and saw Annette Kochanski, the drummer from the Trouser Minnows, coming in with part of her drum kit. Annette wore an eye-catching, if not eye-popping, outfit including torn fishnet stockings, short blue cut-offs, and a black camisole under a pink blouse. The Minnows would be the first act of the night.

"Hi, Annette."

Annette set her case down and they exchanged a quick hug, Ryan introduced Brody, and Annette said hellos to everyone else, then raised an eyebrow. "So, your guitarist got out quick again, huh?"

"Can't leave early if you don't show up." Ryan shrugged. "He quit."

"We fired him," Mitch clarified.

Annette's eyes widened. "He what? When?"

"Last week." Ryan explained what had happened.

"What a little shit!"

The others laughed. "Yeah, that's kind of how we felt," Lara said.

"Well, that tops our latest drama." Annette brushed her bangs back. "Michelle and her guy broke up and she was just impossible for most of the week. I'm hoping she channels it into the guitar tonight."

They caught each other up on the local scene, and watched as No More Trees worked through their sound check. 

"Anyway, Lara, I'm glad we caught you guys," Annette said. "We wanted to ask if Trout could do our sound, too. He's the best, and the last time we were here, it wasn't great. Pretty please?"

"Yeah, Trout is the best." Ryan looked back at Trout, who was talking with someone on the club staff. "We keep Lara around for him, and vice versa."

"That's right." Lara tossed her hair back and grinned. "That was the plan. We're both indispensable."

"Annette, I can help you bring your kit in," Mitch said. "Then I have to be out of here."

"I can help, too," Brody added, and Nate echoed the offer. 

"Thanks, that'd be great." Annette gave them all a grateful smile.

"Anyway, Annette, I'm sure Trout'd be happy to do sound for you," Lara said. "Just go on over and ask. He's already doing sound for No More Trees."

"Say hi to your parents and Maria for us, Mitch," Ryan said.

"You bet. Later, guys." 

"Thanks, Lara. Thanks a bunch." Annette squeezed her hand. "Okay, let me talk to him and then I'll get all my stuff. Thanks, guys!" Annette grabbed her case and hurried over to the sound board.

Lara turned to Ryan. "So, what are you going to do with all your free time? As if I couldn't guess." She flicked a glance at Brody, who left with Nate and Mitch to help Annette with her drums.

"I don't know." Ryan shrugged, although it was hard not to smile. When Lara quirked an eyebrow, Ryan protested. "I don't. We haven't planned anything."

Lara shook her head. "You really are out of practice at the whole boyfriend thing, aren't you?"

"Not the whole thing." Ryan grinned and Lara widened her eyes.

"You, oh, you so owe me some talking time!" Lara smacked Ryan's shoulder. "You've been holding out on me."

"No, I haven't. You're just too involved with marine biology." Ryan laughed and turned to smile at Brody as he came back. "Hi."

Nate and Mitch called their good-byes and headed out, and Lara walked over to talk to Trout and Annette.

Ryan looked up at Brody after her friend left. "So, now what?"

"I have a plan." 

"Okay." Ryan shrugged into her coat but didn't bother zipping it, although she did wrap a purple striped scarf around her neck. "Lara's mom made it for me," she told Brody. "It's a good luck charm."

He smiled. "More original than a rabbit's foot."

"They always creeped me out when I was little." Ryan made a face as they walked outside. "I had images of all these little three-legged rabbits hopping around. I figured it wasn't real lucky for them; how lucky could it be for me?"

Brody laughed as he led her to his car. "You never say what I expect."

"Just keeping you on your toes."

They got in the car and Brody eased into the flow of traffic. "So, you nervous?"

"Of course, some." Ryan nodded. "On the other hand, I realized how much easier it was without Jason around, so I'm not so bad. Yet." 

"That's good. So, how much time do you have before you need to be back?"

Ryan pretended to be shocked. "God, Brody. Haven't you had enough?"

He shot her a glance and shook his head. "Not yet, but that's not what I'm talking about. Come on, I'm serious. How much time?"

Ryan looked at her watch. "Well, it's going on three. I need to be back by eight. What are you planning?"

"We're going shopping."

"Shopping? You hate shopping. I hate shopping. What kind of shopping?"

"You'll see."

An hour later, Ryan was in her kitchen staring at the array of purchases. Ground beef, ricotta cheese, tomato sauce, frozen spinach, noodles and more covered the counter. "Just what do you expect me to do with these?"

Brody took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "I told you. You, Miss Bancroft, are going to make a lasagna."

She shook her head; he'd told her that in the store and she still didn't believe him. "Brody, I'm not much of a cook."

"Yes, I know. However, this is pretty simple."

"Why do you want to teach me to make lasagna? And how can it be simple?" She swept her arm at the counter, indicating the array of ingredients. "Nothing made with this much stuff can be simple."

"For one thing, you can't live on macaroni and cheese alone." He shuddered. "For long, anyway, and if you insist on having that, I'll teach you a better way to make it. But for now, lasagna is a good place to start. It's easy, filling, nutritious with the spinach added in and you'll have leftovers. Besides." He brushed her hair back. "I can't be worrying about what you'll eat while I'm away on road trips."

Ryan smiled and clasped her hands behind his neck. "You worry about me? Aw. You big softie." She tried to cover up a sudden surge of feeling with humor. 

He gave her a mock glare, then kissed her. "Yeah, I know. Don't let it get around. You ready?"

She took a deep breath. "I guess so. You sure we have everything here? Lara and I hardly ever cook."

"I checked, and we're fine. No more stalling. First, we brown the ground beef."

For the next hour, Brody showed her how to cook. It wasn't that bad, she realized. She could handle browning ground beef, and the rest was mostly mix and pour. She did like the no-cook noodles. Brody agreed they were a lot less hassle, but admitted that he preferred to cook the pasta when he had the time. 

"So, tell me about these other bands." He said as they mixed up the ricotta cheese and eggs. "I have to admit I did a double take when I saw a group named Trouser Minnows, although Annette seemed very nice."

Ryan chuckled. "They're fun; an all-female punk-ish band. Nate dated their lead singer for a while, and she's really nice. They broke up, but it was one of those things where they just realized it wouldn't work. No hard feelings."

"And what about No More Trees?"

At that, Ryan laughed. "The full name is No More Trees on the Potomac. Remember a few years ago when Dan Snyder got rid of those trees along the river? He wanted an 'unobstructed view' from his mansion." Ryan rolled her eyes. "The guys got really ticked and picked that for their name. They're Redskins' fans and well, you know how they've been doing lately. We call them No More Trees for short." She gave the mixture one last stir. "Okay, now what?"

"Now we layer it in the baking dish." 

"I'm going to make a mess," Ryan warned him.

"No problem. Messes can be cleaned." Brody was unfazed.

She listened and followed the directions, spilling only minimal amounts of sauce and cheese on the counter, and contemplating her feelings about Brody. He was fun, and she enjoyed that, but under all the jokes, she'd come to see he had a serious side. He would tease, but he never aimed to hurt. Even when he had tried to spin her mom's guilt trip the previous week, she knew it was to try to make her feel better, not to defend her mom. 




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 06



She shook her head; however casual they'd meant to keep things, she wasn't sure she could for too much longer. Lara would have a good laugh over that, Ryan thought, along with a ringing "I told you so."

At last, it was in the oven, and Ryan huffed out a breath as she leaned against the counter and surveyed the mess. "I hope this is worth it," she said. "It's a lot less work to buy it frozen."

"This is better for you. And now comes the fun part." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Oh, really?" Ryan turned towards him, one hand on the counter, the other on her hip. "And what's that?"

"Well, now that we've made a mess, and we're all sweaty . . . ."

"Yes?" Ryan bit back a laugh as he stepped closer.

"We're going to need a few things."

"Such as?"

"Some water . . . some soap . . . ." His body brushed up against hers.

Ryan laughed and slid her arms around his waist. "Sounds good so far."

"You think?" He lowered his head and nipped at her earlobe; she jumped.

"Yes, I think so." 

He kissed her once, hard, then stepped away. "So, you want to wash or dry?" He held up a dishtowel.

x-x-x-x

Ryan's phone beeped as she and Brody walked to the club. She checked the screen and touched the icon to see Evan's text message. I had to promise to come to dinner with Mom and Dad next week. You owe me.

"Smart ass." Ryan shook her head with a smile and put her phone back in her pocket.

"Who is?" Brody asked.

"Evan. Oh, hey, I guess we're officially official, since you'll be meeting a family member."

He opened the door for her. "Yeah, but it's only your brother. You're starting me off easy."

Ryan laughed. "You'll thank me for it."

She took his hand as she wove her way through the crowd, saying hi to some familiar faces from other bands and other clubs. Nate, Lara and Mitch were clustered at one side of the bar, along with Lara's cousin, Ephraim. 

"Hey, guys. Hi, Ephraim. Long time, no see." Ryan gave him a hug. "How was Corsica?"

"So cool, so very cool." He grinned. "I wish I was there now."

"Oh, stop rubbing it in." Lara smacked his shoulder. 

"Hey. I am here to help you guys out, you know. That ought to get me a few less smacks." 

Ryan grinned. Ephraim had agreed to help out and handle their merchandise at the show while he was in town, since Allison wasn't going to do it.

"Ephraim, this is Brody Lang. Brody, this is Lara's cousin, Ephraim."

The two men shook hands and exchanged greetings. Ephraim told them more about Corsica, making Ryan long for sun, warm sand, and palm trees. A few people stopped by, members of other bands and friends of friends, and all of them curious for the scoop on what had happened with Jason. Annette turned up again as well and hung around while waiting for her set to start.

Brody turned to Ryan. "I'm gathering no one thought much of Jason."

"Guess not. We'll just chalk it up to a lesson learned and move on."

"Annette! Annette!" A woman with platinum blond hair came up to the group. She waved at everyone and tugged on Annette's arm. "Come on, time to go."

"Gotcha, Cecily." Annette turned to the others. "Good luck everybody! Later!" She and Cecily disappeared into the crowd towards the backstage area.

"Those were some outfits," Brody commented. Annette had switched her cut offs for a bright green miniskirt, and Cecily's hair was outshone only by her metallic silver blouse.

Ryan laughed. "Those were pretty tame compared to some others I've seen them in."

"So . . . ." Brody studied her.

"What?"

"Do you ever wear outfits like that?" His expression was somewhere between teasing and hopeful.

Ryan smiled. "Guess you'll just have to stick around and find out."

x-x-x-x

When Trouser Minnows began playing, Brody was standing with Ryan in front of him, close enough that he kept one hand on her waist. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the Minnows, although he gave them points for enthusiasm. Ryan would lean back every so often to point out people she knew in other bands, or tell him the name of the songs, and he'd take advantage to pull her a little closer. When she looked down at his hand, then up at him with a grin, he knew she'd caught on.

When the set was over, Brody saw Mark, Bax and Hilary on the other side of the room. He pointed them out to Ryan as he waved them over. 

"Hey, Ryan!" Hilary grinned and then gave her a hug. "I am really psyched about this! You guys will be great."

"Thanks, Hilary." Ryan smiled. "I'm really glad you could make it."

"There'll be more," Mark said with a grin. "Lena and Obie will be here, and Tolya and Sara, and Bax is here, too. Mina and Drew will come but she had to work a dinner shift and so they said they'd come later."

"Excellent." Brody beamed. "Hey, everybody, come meet the others." He took Ryan's hand in his as they introduced everyone. Bax came over a moment later and took his turn.

"So, you're Brody's musician," he said as he shook Ryan's hand.

She gave Brody a questioning look. He put his hands up in surrender.

"Hey, Bax said it, not me."

Ryan smiled and shrugged. "Well, I guess if I'm his musician, he's my hockey player."

Bax laughed. "I like that."

They talked for a while, greeting Lena and Obie when they showed up, and then the lights went down and No More Trees took the stage. Brody cracked up at the lead singer's t-shirt, which was burgundy with gold lettering that read "Save the Redskins—Fire the Owner."

They finished to a round of raucous cheers and left the stage. Ryan turned to Brody and gave him a nervous smile; he smiled. It was the first sign of apprehension she'd shown all night. He was about to say something when a man's voice called her name. 

"Hey, Ryan! Ryan!" 

Her face lit up and for a moment, Brody felt an unexpected flash of jealousy. 

Then she turned and grinned. "Evan!" She laughed as her brother gave her a hug, and Brody chastised himself for the feeling of relief that swept over him. 

"Evan, Amira, this is Brody Lang. Brody, this is my little brother and his girlfriend." Ryan made the introductions.

"Little is relative, I see." Brody and Evan shook hands and Ryan groaned at the pun. "Nice to meet you, Evan. And you, Amira." He hadn't seen her at first; Evan was close to six-foot-five, Brody guessed, and she'd been standing behind him. 

"Hi, Amira," Ryan said. "It's good to see you again. I'm so glad you could make it."

"I wouldn't miss it." Amira smiled. "I've been looking forward to it since we saw you at Maryland."

"Great. Oh, and by the way." Ryan turned to Evan and poked him in the shoulder. "Sending me a link to a song about a 'disposable pop star' is not funny." 

Evan widened his eyes. "It was that one? I mean, I just saw it was an SR-71 song and sent the link."

"You knew damn well what you were doing, you brat. Do that again," Ryan warned her brother, "and I'll show Amira the pictures from your thirteenth birthday party." When Evan scowled, Ryan smiled in satisfaction and Brody coughed to hide a laugh.

He got a kick out of watching them teasing each other, so much like what he remembered from home. Neither Carla nor Eileen had taken any crap from their brothers, and it looked like Ryan didn't either.

"Hey, Ryan. Looks like it's our turn." Lara came over and grinned. "Come on, let's rock this town."

"Rock it inside out," Ryan replied with a smile, then turned to Brody. "Guess that's my cue."

He smiled, tugged on a lock of her hair and leaned down for a quick kiss. "Go get 'em, rock star." He watched her go and turned to Evan. "So, you come to all her shows?"

Evan nodded. "Not all, but I come when I can. It's a little easier now that I'm at college and on my own schedule."

"I heard your parents aren't real crazy over her and the music," Brody said. He was curious to find out more about that particular issue.

"To put it mildly." Evan rolled his eyes. "It's stupid."

"It is," Amira said. "They were great at Maryland the other week. How'd you even get away from that party tonight?"

"I told them I was meeting some guys from the team. And who knows, there might even be some here." Evan shrugged. "It was easiest."

Amira shook her head and pushed her dark hair behind her ears. "You know that's crazy, right?"

Evan looked uncomfortable and scuffed his foot on the floor. "I know, but trust me, it was the best way."

Brody felt bad for Evan; it wasn't easy to lie to your parents. Not that he hadn't gone with the odd misleading sentence himself as a teenager, but even then, he'd known his parents weren't that dumb. Evan was probably torn, Brody thought, wanting to support Ryan and knowing his parents didn't approve. He was glad he'd never been put in that position.

"What do you think of it?" Brody asked. "I mean, about the band and all?"

Evan grinned. "I think it's fantastic. I told Ryan, I'm jealous. I wish I could do what I want without worrying what other people think."

x-x-x-x

Ryan and the others were quiet as they worked with Trout to set everything up. They didn't need to say anything—they'd done this so many times it was automatic—and Ryan had found she liked the time to try to clear her mind, or at least let her thoughts settle.

Tonight she wasn't having any luck with that, and so she stopped trying to force it. Instead she turned her attention to getting ready and going over the set in her mind. She frowned as thoughts of Brody kept breaking through; she wasn't used to anything taking her mind off a performance.

"You okay, Ryan?" Lara asked. She waved at Trout as he headed out to take care of the sound.

"Hmmm? Yeah, I'm fine." Ryan slung her guitar on and adjusted it. "Just a little distracted, I guess. Nervous."

"About the show? Or someone else?" 

Ryan began to protest, but didn't; Lara knew her too well and she was right. "It's weird," she told her friend. "I'm really glad Brody's here, but it's a little unsettling or something. I don't know. Okay, doesn't matter." Ryan grinned and tossed her hair back. "We've got other things to think about."

"Come on, people. No time for drama." Mitch grinned and they all laughed.

"Speaking of which, did anyone see Allison or Jason out there?" Lara asked.

"Yeah, they're out there." Nate huffed out a breath. "She made sure I saw her when she came in. Good God, how can I be related to her?"

"Maybe there was a hospital mix-up and they brought the wrong baby home," Ryan suggested.

Nate laughed. "I should be so lucky."

"Well, I'd say we have some incentive." Mitch twirled his sticks. "You guys ready?"

"Just about." Ryan made sure her guitar was plugged in, and the amp, and tested her effects pedals. Trout had already made his way back to the sound board.

Ryan looked down as her stomach took a tumble as she heard the crowd milling around. She'd just been with them a few minutes ago, but it hardly felt like that now. At last they were set, and she looked at her friends. "Ready?" When they nodded, she let out a slow breath. "Well, then, let's do this."

They went to their spots on stage and the lights went down.

Mitch sat behind his drums, counted them in and Ryan hit the first chord of "My Last Mistake," one of their new songs. It had gone over so well at the college shows they'd decided to change up and open with it. Her nervousness disappeared as the lights came up.

x-x-x-x

"They're good, Langer," Bax shouted over the crowd. "Really good."

Brody nodded and watched his musician up on stage. She looked fantastic and the band sounded great. He wondered once more if she knew how happy she looked when she was performing. The first song ended and Lara thanked the crowd before they moved on to the next one.

Ryan moved over to the keyboards, keeping her guitar on but sliding it around to her back, and Nate switched his bass for a guitar. A moment later Ryan started playing, a fast little riff that Nate picked up, and then Lara began singing. The crowd cheered in approval and Brody saw more than a few people sing along.

When the song was finished, Mark leaned over to him. "Hey, man. That whole guitarist thing Ryan was worried about?" Brody nodded and Mark continued, "Tell her not to worry about it."

"I know. They sound terrific, don't they?" Brody half-shouted back.

"Better than the GW show," Hilary chimed in. 

"What do you think, Evan?" Brody asked.

"Absolutely," Evan called back, and grinned. "Ryan always worries about stuff and then she figures out how to fix it, and it's usually better."

Brody had to agree. Ryan had explained, for example, that on a song like they'd just finished, where she took the keyboards and Nate played guitar, she would supply the missing bass line with the keyboards. She'd made it sound like no big deal, but to him it was impressive. It would be great, he thought, to tell her how all her changes had paid off.

They slowed things down a bit and dedicated "On the Far Road" to Mitch's sister and her unit and Ryan stayed at her keyboard. Then they sped up again with the next number and she went back to her guitar. 

As far as he could tell, everything seemed to be going smoothly up on stage. He watched as Nate put a hand on her shoulder and leaned in to say something. Ryan nodded and patted Nate's arm, then went over to her laptop and tapped some keys. With a satisfied look, she brought her guitar back around front and nodded when Nate looked over at her. Brody wondered that was all about.

Whatever it was, it worked, and they went into the next song with no problems he could detect. He recognized the current number as "Skyline," and then they segued into the next song without a break, and the crowd cheered and whistled, Brody included.

Between verses, Lara said something to Ryan and the latter smiled and laughed, and Brody was struck once again at how perfectly at home she looked up on the stage. His sister, Carla, had once told him that he looked something like that himself when he was on the ice. 

"You skate better than you walk," Carla had said. "You know what you're doing out there, and when you know what you're doing, you're happy."

And that was it, he thought, as he had when he'd first seen them at GWU. Ryan was happy up there, doing what she knew how to do.

There was a short break as Ryan the others downed some water and prepped for the next song. When it started, it took Brody a minute to recognize a guitar-heavy version of Modern English's "Melt with You," and then he laughed and clapped along with everyone else.

Three songs later, the set ended, they took a bow, and then walked off the stage.

Evan let out a whistle that had Brody covering his ears, and the crowd continued with the applause. 

A couple of minutes later, the band took the stage again. They covered of Bad Company's "Rock & Roll Fantasy," and followed it with another original song. Evan leaned over to tell him it was one of the first songs Lara and Ryan ever written. When that was finished, they once again waved and left the stage, and once again the crowd cheered until they came back.

There was one more song, then it was over and the lights came up.

Brody talked with his teammates as the band packed their instruments away, glancing at Ryan from time to time, anxious to talk to her. He held back as he saw her working and talking to Annette, Manny, and others from the first two bands. There'd be plenty of time to talk later, he thought. She looked so enthusiastic, and in her element, and he said as much to Evan.

Evan nodded. "Oh, yeah. I mean, even I can see it's what she should do." He laughed. "I've met her after work a few times, and it's always a little odd to see her in an office. She looks so much more comfortable up there."

"You probably look like that on the court," Brody said with a grin.

Evan shrugged. "Maybe. Sometimes."

"Hey, Brody, we have to go." 

Brody turned to find Mark and Hilary, and Drew and Mina right behind them. 

"It was fantastic," said Hilary, and Mina echoed her. "Tell her we said hi and sorry we couldn't stay, but I'm going to be falling asleep at work as it is."

Brody laughed. "No problem. I'm glad you guys could make it." Then began a series of good byes to his teammates, leaving him with Evan, Amira, and Annette from Trouser Minnows.

Annette's eyes were bright. "That was amazing, wasn't it? That's the best I've ever seen them. If they don't get on that tour, that A&R guy is in the wrong business."

"Your mouth to God's ear," Lara said with a grin as she walked over. 

Annette laughed and leaned in for a hug. "Where's your fearless leader?"

"On her way." Lara jerked a thumb back to the stage. "Manny's over there."

"Uh oh." Annette tsked. "Is he in the cuddly drunk stage?"

Lara nodded. "Oh, yeah. He tried to hug Mitch, even."

Annette burst out laughing. "Sorry to miss that."

"Lara, you were great," Brody told her when Annette turned to talk to someone else. "You all were."

"Thanks, Brody. And thanks for bringing us a cheering section."

"You didn't need me, but happy to help." He shook hands with Nate and Mitch as they came over, and chuckled as Ryan made a beeline for them, leaving Manny looking befuddled.

"Ryan! You were great!" Evan pulled her into a quick hug. 

Amira did likewise. "You were wonderful!"

"Everyone knew it," Evan said, and then grinned. "Allison and Jason left after the second song, I saw them. Even they knew you had it in the bag."

Ryan laughed. "Thanks, guys. I'm so glad you came. It means a lot." She turned to Brody. "You, too." She stepped over and hugged him, and held on tight.

He squeezed her against him and kissed her cheek. "You were incredible."

She held on for another moment then let go, although she stayed next to him. "Thanks."

"So, now what?" Brody asked. 

"Beer." Ryan took a deep breath. "I need a beer."

"I got it, Ryan," Nate said. "Bar was my first stop." He handed her a bottle, then held two more out for Lara and Mitch.

"Where's mine?" Evan asked, earning him a withering stare from Amira and an elbow to the ribs from his sister, which only made him laugh.

"I've never seen you drink a beer." Brody looked down at Ryan. "I don't think I've seen you drink anything besides sake."

She shrugged. "I don't too often, but I deserve one now."

"Good show, guys," Mitch said, and they all clinked bottles. He took a long swallow, then rubbed the cold bottle on his forehead. "Damn, it was hot up there."

They talked a while more, with people drifting in and out of the group, until Ryan covered a yawn and looked up at Brody. "So, can I get a ride home? Or are you going to go on a bar crawl or something?"

He laughed. "I think I'm past my bar crawl days."

With that, they began taking their gear and instruments out to their respective cars, and it was after two a.m. when Brody drove out of the parking lot. Ryan leaned her head back and closed her eyes as he navigated the quiet city streets.

"You guys were terrific," he told her, and reached over to take her hand.

"Thanks." Her eyes stayed closed but she squeezed his hand. "I really am glad you were there. I don't usually have anyone there for me, you know? Well, Evan sometimes, but it's not quite the same."

"I have to say, I don't think I've ever been at anything like that before. I mean, watched someone perform when I knew them. It puts a different spin on it."

Ryan gave a quiet chuckle. "Now you know a little how Hilary and all the other girls must feel, watching you guys play hockey."

"What do you mean?" 

She turned and opened her eyes. "Well, you know, they worry. They watch you guys down there and worry when you get hit, and feel bad if you don't score, but there's nothing they can do but watch."

"Well, at least I don't have to worry about you getting hurt," he teased.

Ryan laughed and closed her eyes again. "No, I managed not to trip over any patch cords tonight."




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 06



"You say that like you've done it before." He guided the car on to 395, which was all but empty at the late hour. It was an odd feeling to be so alone on a road so often choked with traffic.

"Once. Managed not to hurt anything but my pride, although I had a pretty good bruise on my leg for a few days."

"Think you can get inside without tripping over anything?"

"Maybe. I'm pretty tired. Maybe I should sleep in the car."

Brody shook his head with a laugh. "No, I think we'll get you upstairs. Your place or mine?"

Ryan opened her eyes and gave him a baleful look. "If you think I'm going to do anything but sleep once I'm in a bed, you need to think again."

"I'm pleased you think I have such vast energy reserves, but I was referring to sleep myself." Brody took the exit and stopped at the light at the bottom of the ramp. "So," he said again, "your place or mine?"

"Yours," Ryan said. "You have better breakfast options."

===================

Author's Note II: I hate to have a lag, but revisions to the next chapter may require a little longer time between postings, but rest assured I will post and I will finish. But I need to get it right.



Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 07



(c) 2011 All Rights Reserved

Author's note: Happy New Year, everybody! Sorry for the delay, here's ch 7.

=======================================

Four weeks later, on a Friday in the middle of January, Ryan was at work but all of her attention was on Lara.

"We got it?" Ryan kept her voice down as she gripped the phone. "Are you sure? Are you serious?"

"I know! I know!" Lara all but squeaked. "I'm sure, I'm so sure! I just talked to him and they mean it. Once we calm down, we need to find a lawyer. Trout said his dad will know someone; he'll ask tonight."

"Trout is so very handy, and connected." Ryan grinned. "Oh, my God. I can't believe it! Have you told the guys yet?"

"Well, I tried to call you first but you weren't at your desk and I didn't want to leave a message. So I called Nate and told him. He's going to tell Mitch; God, I wish I could see his face. Both of their faces." Lara laughed and Ryan couldn't stop from joining her.

"This is just the absolute best news. Oh, my God." Ryan slumped back in her chair, euphoria leaving her drained. "Tell me again what he said."

Lara obliged. "He said he thought we had great stage presence, that our music was what they wanted, and he wanted to work out the details as soon as possible."

"Wow. This is just . . . amazing." Ryan couldn't believe it. The A&R guy that had been at the 9:30 Club had talked to them for a few minutes, then gone back to wherever A&R guys go. There'd been no word for a while, and they'd all decided that it was probably a bad sign. 

Ryan had been bummed about it, but determined to keep going. Besides, other good things had happened, like all the YouTube videos people had posted from the show, and even a mention in the "Names & Faces" section of The Washington Post. That was due to so many members of the Caps being there, but Ryan didn't mind.

"I know. 'Wow' about covers it." Lara took a breath. "I know it will all sink in later, but right now it's like I'm just riding a wave or something."

"I know the feeling." Ryan closed her eyes and smiled.

"I think Trout was as excited as I was," Lara said. "He was all but bouncing off the walls. Hey, what do you think Brody will say?"

"I don't know." Ryan gave a short laugh. "I was just thinking that now I have someone to tell that will care, and who isn't in the band. It's such a novel concept." She was looking forward to telling him, to maybe some sort of celebration. Previously she'd only had Evan to tell, or friends like Annette. 

"So, how serious are you guys?" Lara asked, half-teasing.

"Oh, I don't know." That was a tough question, and one she'd been avoiding thinking about. She felt herself getting more attached to Brody all the time, and it seemed mutual. They were both avoiding talking about it, she thought. On the other hand, if things were going well, maybe they should keep not talking about it.

"Come on, Ryan, talk to me."

"It's going really good." Ryan shrugged. "Really. I mean, I'm not sure I would have even bet we'd still be going out at this point, but it's nice. He's nice."

"From a few hints you've dropped, it seems like he's way past 'nice,'" Lara said.

"Well, that's all you're going to get from me, nosy."

"That's not fair. I've told you a lot more than that about me and Trout."

"And yet, somehow, I remain your friend."

"Oh, fine. Let's try another question: has he met your parents yet?"

Ryan made a strangled sound. "Not yet. I know, I know, it'll have to happen. Sometime. I guess."

"Ryan, are you kidding? They'll love him!"

"Yeah, I know. They'll probably adopt him. Maybe we can work an exchange, and his family can adopt me." She'd met Brody's family over the holidays and they'd been great. His parents had been the opposite of hers, pleased with and proud of all their kids, no matter what they did. It had been a kick to see Brody with his nephews, and the family had been thrilled to hear that Brody's sister, Carla, was expecting.

Brody's family had been a marked contrast to her own. Christmas had gone as it usually did. Her brothers came home for the semester break, and she even went back on Christmas Eve to stay the night. Her mother liked to have them home for Christmas, and Ryan counseled herself that it was only one night. 

The actual holiday had been about as she'd expected. Her father and JT dominated the day and the conversation with football, Evan had hung out with them, and her mother had dropped none-too-subtle hints about Ryan meeting "someone special." Ryan had bolted back to her apartment at the first opportunity.

"An exchange like that would work," Lara said, drawing Ryan's attention back. "Then you could still go out. Because, I mean, if only one of you got adopted, that'd just be too weird."

Ryan laughed. "It would at that. I guess I'm glad we are where we are, then."

"Still, he'll have to meet them sometime."

"Yeah, I know. They know I'm seeing him; Evan let it slip not long after the gig at the 9:30."

"He let it slip? Were you hiding it?"

"No, not really. I just didn't want to deal with them. Dad has no interest in whether I'm dating, and Mom thinks every guy I see is husband material."

"I know, but you guys have been going out for a while now. He's got to meet them sometime."

"I know, I said I know. He came back from a road trip last night; maybe I'll get it out of the way this week."

Lara laughed. "I love how you make this into some major chore."

"With my parents, it is, and you know it." Ryan glowered at her desk.

"Okay, okay. Look, I have to go. I'll catch you at home later, and we'll have to see about this lawyer thing. I still can't believe it!"

"I can't either." Ryan's happier mood returned. "But we have to do it right, so we'll take it slow and talk to the lawyer and everything."

"Absolutely."

They chatted for another minute and said good-bye, then Ryan looked at the clock. An hour and a half left. She laughed at herself; she felt like a kid waiting to be let out of school.

She hoped Brody would be around, or at least awake. The team had just gotten back from a swing through Columbus and Detroit, with a stop down in Nashville before heading home. Brody had sounded beat when she'd spoken to him earlier. Still, he didn't have to be awake for long, just long enough for her to tell him about the tour.

It was odd to know she'd missed him—missed him a lot—while he'd been gone. Somehow, she hadn't expected to, but she'd found herself going to call him just say hi, or thinking about him before going to sleep and wishing he was with her. She guessed it was mutual; he'd called every day, and some days more than once. If she couldn't answer, he left messages that made her laugh. 

What was she going to do? She hadn't had many boyfriends before, and none of those relationships had gotten to this point. She'd never felt this serious about anyone, and if she wanted to know he felt, she'd have to ask. She wasn't sure what answer she wanted.

Ryan shook her head and tried to focus on work.

x-x-x-x

The incessant buzz of his alarm clock usually had Brody up right away, but this time it took him a good ten seconds of flailing before he found the button to shut it off. The team had played the night before, eking out an overtime win against Nashville, and he'd almost fallen asleep in his clothes when he'd gotten home. He lay in bed a while longer before opening his eyes.

His day had so far consisted of going to sleep, waking up and trying to get oriented, then sleeping again. He dragged himself into a shower and felt more awake afterwards, or at least like he'd had enough sleep. There was a game the next night, but he knew he'd be back on track by the next morning. 

The first item on his schedule was to see Ryan. He had a vague memory of talking to her that morning, and hoped he'd been coherent at the time. She'd laughed, he was pretty sure, and he took that as a good sign.

She'd been on his mind the whole trip. No previous girlfriend had ever occupied his mind like that, and it was weird; he'd made sure not to tell anyone, not even Bax. He understood guys like Cole and Obie having women on their minds; they were married. Tolya and Sara were pretty serious, so he got that, too. He wasn't sure if he and Ryan were at that point.

He pondered that as he dressed. Maybe they were. He hadn't planned on that, but he knew things didn't always go as planned—such as the pass he'd made in the last game. He'd intended it for Tolya, but it had been picked off by the Nashville forward coming out of the penalty box. Said forward had come within a hair of scoring, but the Caps' goalie, Risztak, had managed to get his glove in the way.

The phone ringing interrupted his thoughts, and he was glad for it, since his thoughts were all muddled anyway. He smiled when he saw it was Ryan.

"Hey, how's the rock star?"

"Good, actually. Really good." She sounded excited. "Listen, I'll be leaving work soon. Could I come see you?"

"Sure. Wait, what time is it?" 

"It's, um, a little after five. Sorry, did I interrupt something?"

"No, no. I'm just trying to get myself awake. Would you be up for meeting somewhere? I need dinner, you need dinner, and I don't have anything here. I cleaned stuff out before I left."

"Can I talk you into take-out, or ordering in?"

"Yeah, no problem. Everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I just don't feel like going to a restaurant. Mostly I don't feel like dealing with people. It's been one of those days at work."

"Am I not people?" 

"You're the only person I'd like to see."

Brody smiled at that. "That's nice to hear. Sure, why don't you come up here whenever you get back? I missed you, you know."

"Okay. That sounds good. I missed you, too."

"All right, then. I'll be here."

"Thanks, Brody. Bye. See you in a while."

He put the phone in his pocket and went to the kitchen drawer that held the take-out menus. Maybe they could try Indian. He hadn't had that in a while, and thought Ryan would probably like it, or at least be willing to try it. She made up for her inability to cook with her curiosity about new foods. He was flipping through the menus when the phone rang again; he answered without looking at the display.

"Have to work late, sweetheart?"

There was a pause and then a man's voice said, "Not tonight, baby."

Brody groaned. "Hi, Rick. Sorry."

"What was that all about?"

"Ryan called a few minutes ago to say she was leaving work, so I thought she was changing plans. What's up, man? Or did you just call to hassle me?" Brody wandered into the living room and sat on the couch.

"No, you just gave me an opportunity to hassle you."

Rick was teasing, but there was little humor in his voice. Brody frowned; something wasn't right. He got a nervous feeling in his stomach. Had something happened to their parents? To one of Rick's kids? "Is everything okay, Rick?" 

"Well, yes and no. I mean, I'm fine and so are Amy and the kids, but . . . oh, hell. Amy and I are separating. I just wanted you to hear it from me."

"Oh." Brody was silent for a minute. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too."

"So what happened?"

"It's not all of a sudden, if that's what you mean," Rick said. "I don't know. It's one of those things where little problems pile up and then you have this huge mountain of problems that you can't get out from under."

"But everything seemed so cool at Christmas." 

"I know, and I'm sorry. It wasn't completely an act, but we were trying to keep everything quiet. We were still talking and thinking about what to do. That weekend I told you Amy took her kids to her mom's? That was the real starting point. She said we needed time to think, and so she went there while I stayed home. I did have to work, but still, I needed to think about things."

"Did you guys try, I don't know—did you talk to anyone? A counselor or something?" Brody tried to wrap his brain around the news; Rick and Amy were one of the most stable couples he knew.

"Yeah, we tried, and we still are, but we thought separating at this point is best for everyone. Amy and I are so tense, and we snap at each other all the time even though we try not to. You can tell the kids know something's wrong, even as young as they are. I'm moving into an apartment this weekend; Dad and Josh are going to help me." Rick sounded resigned. 

"But—but what was it?" 

"It was a lot of things, I guess. We drifted apart some. I'm working a lot, I think that was the last straw. Amy works too, of course, and she was getting mad at me taking on overtime. And—never mind, there's just a bunch of other stuff on top of it and, well, this is where we are."

Brody sank back on the couch. He'd never heard his brother like this and wasn't sure what to say. "I'm really sorry, man. I had no idea."

"I know. Sorry. No one did; we wanted it that way. Well, Carla had a feeling, but you know how she is. Practically psychic."

"Yeah, I know." 

"Look, Brody, I have to go. Thanks for listening."

"Not a problem. Call me anytime."

"Thanks. I'll send you my new address soon, and my cell and email won't change. Take it easy, and good luck, okay?"

"Okay, thanks. And seriously, call me if you need to."

"All right. Later, kid."

Brody closed his phone and sat on the couch, staring at the wall. He wasn't sure any family news short of his parents divorcing could have surprised him more than this. 

He'd never thought about Rick and Amy having problems. If he had, he guessed, he'd supposed they had them just like anyone else. He would never have considered they had anything serious enough to lead to separation. It was lucky, he thought, that he and Ryan didn't have problems like that.

Would they? The idea brought him up short. Rick said part of his and Amy's problems came down to his work schedule. Rick's work schedule was nothing compared with Brody's; Rick worked the occasional overtime, but at least he could come home every night. Rick didn't travel for days at a time for work like Brody did. 

Ryan had never complained about Brody's traveling, but would she? 

x-x-x-x

Ryan knocked on Brody's door, bursting to tell him about the tour. Word had gotten around, and she'd gotten congratulatory calls from Annette and others, but it wasn't quite the same. She was about to knock again when he opened the door.

"Hey, come on in." Brody held the door open for her.

"Thanks." Ryan's excitement dropped a few notches. Brody looked and sounded far different than he had on the phone earlier. "You okay?"

"Sure. What's up?" He closed the door.

"I, um, I have news."

"Yeah? Good news?"

"Yeah. We got picked up for the tour." She couldn't stop a grin.

"Hey, that's great." 

Ryan was taken back at his muted reaction. "It is. Ah, Lara called today and told me. We're all pretty excited. I'll be anxious and all in a few days, but for now it's kind of wild." Her own enthusiasm was down considerably.

He nodded. "That's fantastic."

"Thanks." Ryan felt deflated; she could see he was preoccupied and his smile looked forced. "So, how was your day?"

"Okay. Just recovering from the trip."

"You did sound tired when I talked to you earlier."

He shrugged. "It's the downside of all the travel. Sometimes your internal clock just gets all messed up and it takes a little bit to reset it. I'll be good tomorrow."

"That's good." Ryan blanked on what to say next. Brody sounded so flat, unlike himself.

"You up for some food?" Brody didn't hassle her on her eating, another wrong note.

"Sure. And, maybe a movie or something?"

"Yeah, maybe. How does Indian food sound?"

"Like something new and different. I've never had it before."

"How'd you manage that? There are tons of Indian restaurants around here."

She shrugged. "I don't know, just never came up I guess. My parents think ethnic food begins and ends at Chinese. With the band, we tend to do that or Thai or pizza."

"Want me to help you pick from the menu, then? Some Indian stuff can be pretty spicy."

"Sounds good."

They sat on the couch and went over the menu. After Brody placed the order, Ryan reached over and put a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

"Hmmm?"

"It looks like something's on your mind. Is anything wrong? Do you want me to go?"

"No, no. I'm sorry. I just—I got some bad news after I talked to you before."

"What happened?"

"My brother called. He and his wife have decided to separate. It's just a huge shock. I mean, Rick and Amy." Brody slumped back onto the cushions. "I can't believe it."

"Oh, wow. I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, me too. Rick said they were keeping it low-key, and they're going to see a counselor, but he's moving out."

"Do you think they might get back together later?"

"I don't know. I mean, I hope so." 

Ryan didn't know what to say; she felt as though everything was off-kilter. Brody was the one who knew what to say, who always had a joke to cheer her up. She didn't think she'd ever seen as upset as he was now.

"It's just so hard to believe." Brody was incredulous. "They seemed to have it all and be handling everything really well. I mean, I know it can't be easy with both parents working; it wasn't easy for my parents. But they did it, so I guess I figured Rick and Amy would, too."

"They still might, though."

Brody shook his head. "I don't think so. Rick sounded like he thought it was over. I keep thinking how Bax has his family in Boston, but they seem okay. If Bax and his wife can keep it together, with all the traveling and separation, how come Rick can't, when he doesn't have to do any of that?"

"It's tough, but everybody's different." Ryan thought for a minute. She'd talked with Bax a few times when she'd met Brody and his teammates after games and he seemed like a good guy. "Bax is older and has a different perspective on it. Maybe your brother and his wife just need to get some perspective."

"Maybe." Brody didn't sound convinced. 

The food came and Brody suggested she try the chicken biryani. "It's probably not as spicy as what I ordered," he told her. "Might be good to start slow." 

Ryan nodded and took a bite. It was good, but it was hot. "Water, please," she said as she gulped air.

Brody gave her a small smile and handed her a piece of naan bread instead. "Here, try this. And take some of this for the rest of it." He gave her a small container. 

She ate the bread, then took a deep breath and chanced a drink of water. "Okay, better. What's in that?" 

"Plain yogurt. It'll help cut the heat like sour cream does with Mexican food. Water spreads the heat around, so you're better to drink milk or have something like this."

"Good to know." She tried another bite, this time with the yogurt. "Yes, much better. Man, if this is spicy, I don't think I should try what you have."

"Well, there's plenty of yogurt if you get adventurous."

"I think I've had enough adventure for now." 

They ate in silence for a while. Ryan decided she liked it enough that she might try it again, provided there was an ample supply of naan and yogurt. When they were finished, she helped him sort through the leftovers and clean up. Brody was quiet during the whole process, and Ryan was stumped on what to do.

"Look, I can go if you want," she said.

He turned and put a hand on her shoulder. "No, I'd like you to stay. Besides, we haven't had dessert yet."

She smiled. "That sounds great. But it can be simple. I'm good with cookies."

"Please. Like I'd give my girlfriend mere cookies." He scoffed and sent her into the living room. A few minutes later he came out with two bowls and handed her one. "See, it's cookies and ice cream."

"My favorite."

"Nothing but the best. Here, a toast to Imaginary Grace and the tour." They clinked their spoons together. "I really am happy for you, Ryan, and the others. I'm sorry if it seems like I'm not; I'm just not great company right now.




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 07



"That's okay." 

Brody found a movie and they watched as they ate. Ryan couldn't concentrate on the movie. She wondered if she should bring up meeting her parents, or if she should wait. The problem with waiting was that she knew if she didn't do it now, she'd continue putting it off and then the waiting would become as bad or worse than the actual event.

She ate the last of her cookie and glanced at Brody. He was staring at the television but she could tell he wasn't seeing it. It was too bad about his brother, she thought. She remembered when Lara's parents had divorced, and it had been pretty ugly, with Lara in the middle. She hoped that Brody's nephews made out okay; she didn't know if it was better or worse that they were younger than Lara had been.

Once more she debated asking Brody about meeting her parents. It's not like he has to go tonight, she thought. I'm just asking if he'd be willing at some point in the near future. That's not so bad. I hope.

"Hey." She nudged his arm. When he didn't respond, she did it again.

"Hmmm? Sorry, what?" 

"I had a favor to ask, if you don't mind. Nothing that has to happen immediately or anything."

"Sure. Shoot."

"Would you be okay with meeting my parents? Sometime?"

He gave her a half-smile. "Sure, no problem."

Ryan felt panic rise despite his positive response. "I'm not trying to pressure you, just so you know. And I'm not trying to, I don't know, look for more of anything. I just thought it's been a little while and Evan said something to them and so Mom's asked a few questions and it'd just be easier if you met them." She was out of breath when she finished.

"Ryan, it's fine." He patted her arm. "I don't mind, really. Just let me check the schedule and we'll work something out."

"Okay. Thanks." She was relieved asking him was over; now she could focus on worrying about the event.

"You met my family, so it's only fair."

"I guess. Let's talk about something else."

He squeezed her arm and they went back to watching the movie. Ryan tried to remember what they were watching, but there was nothing too distinctive. Cars sped along roads, sometimes against traffic, and various things exploded in beautifully choreographed sequences. She couldn't have cared less, and every time she glanced at Brody, it was obvious he didn't either.

"We can turn this off," she said.

"What?"

"The movie." She turned towards him. "Neither of us is watching, so we might as well turn it off."

"Sorry. I guess you're right. I just can't focus."

"It's okay. As far as I can tell, there's not much worth focusing on."

Brody turned the set off. "I am sorry, Ryan. Rick's phone call really threw me."

"It's okay. I was just thinking I should cheer you up. You're usually the cheering me up, though, so it's a little weird."

Brody chuckled. "I hadn't thought about it that way."

"Well, let's see what I can come up with." Ryan made a show of thinking of what to do, which made him smile, and then she climbed onto his lap. He put his hands on her hips to steady her as she straddled him.

"That's not a bad start," he said.

"Good to know." She braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned down to kiss him. His fingers dug into her skin, but she didn't care; she liked to feel him respond to her. When he tried to take control of the kiss, she drew back and pressed her lips to his neck. He groaned in approval and she smiled to herself. She decided to up the stakes and rocked her hips against him.

"I think I'm feeling a little better." His voice was rough.

"Good. That's the idea." Ryan pressed her lips to his again and worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

Brody wasn't willing to be passive; he kissed her jaw, and then moved to her neck. After a moment he stopped, much to her disappointment.

"Wait. Why are you wearing this?" Brody reached up and put a finger in her collar and tugged. "This is totally in the way."

Ryan laughed. "It's a mock turtleneck, and in case you've forgotten, it's the middle of January. Even you have to admit it's cold out."

"Maybe. It's still in the way."

"Sorry." She pulled the shirt off. "Better?"

He shrugged out of his own shirt. "Much."

They both laughed as Brody lay back on the couch and pulled her on top of him. She combed her fingers through his hair as she kissed him again. He tangled his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss. She jumped when he nipped a path down her neck, and couldn't help but rock her body against his when he cupped her breast. He rubbed his thumb over the soft material, drawing a soft moan from her as he went back and forth over the hard nub underneath.

Ryan decided it was time to advance things again, so she reached back and unclasped her bra. She laughed as she tried to slide it off without breaking their kiss. Once she'd managed, she sighed in approval as she lay back on top of him. She loved how he felt against her, warm and strong.

She drew back for a breath but Brody kissed her again and pressed his body against hers. Ryan dragged her nails over his chest as he moved his hips; she felt him hard and ready under his jeans. She reached down to undo his pants.

He hissed out a breath as her hand reached in and she stroked him with a steady rhythm. He stopped for a moment with his forehead on her shoulder and breathing hard, and she felt his heart racing like hers. He murmured something and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her skirt.

"What?" Ryan was still breathless.

"I said, thank God for skirts." He pushed down and stopped. "What the—what is this?"

"What is it this time?"

"This. Wait." He pushed at her shoulders and she raised up. He frowned. "You're wearing stockings?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Let me repeat: it's cold outside."

"Jesus. Here I thought this was going to be easy with the skirt." He curled his fingers into the elastic waistband and began pushing the leggings down, working them over her hips as laughed. He got them off one leg and said that was enough before pulling her back to him. 

Ryan repaid the favor by pushing his jeans down, and he lowered his hands to help, then slid one hand between her legs and let his fingers slide into her. She gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders as he teased her, bringing her close but not letting her come.

She was about to protest when he moved his free hand; he dug around to find his wallet and dropped it to the floor when he had the condom in hand. She sat up as he ripped the packet open and put the condom on, then moved so that she was over him. They both groaned as he slid inside. Ryan leaned down to kiss him once more.

His lips met hers, rough and urgent, and she let him lead this time. He began to move faster, and Ryan felt her body tighten and then she came almost before she was ready for it. She gripped him tighter, searching for his lips again as he grasped her hips and kept moving. Ryan tried to take a breath and managed a quick one before a second orgasm washed through her. This time she felt Brody tense as well, and then he dropped his head back as he came as well, holding her to him and breathing hard.

Ryan closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. His heart beat slowed after a bit and the rhythmic sound lulled her almost to sleep. 

"I, um, I guess we should get up," she said.

Brody's arms tightened around her. "Why?"

"I was thinking maybe I should go back to my place."

He shifted so he could look at her. "You don't want to stay here?"

"I do. I just didn't know if you wanted me to."

He laid back on the couch. "Yeah, I do."

x-x-x-x

It was almost two weeks later before Ryan could find a night clear of hockey and basketball games, not to mention a time where she had no rehearsal scheduled.

As they rode out to Chantilly in his car, and the weather was gray and damp, typical of early February. Brody glanced over at Ryan as she stared out the window and fidgeted, tapping her foot on the floor.

"You're not one of those people that steps on imaginary brakes, are you?" he asked.

"What?" She looked over at him, confused.

He smiled and shook his head. "I was just trying to see if you were nervous about my driving."

"Oh, no. Sorry." She fiddled with the fringe on her purple scarf. "Just nervous."

"I'll be on my best behavior, I promise."

"No, that's not it. I've told you that before."

"It'll be fine." Brody couldn't understand why she was so nervous about this. He could accept some general anxiety, but Ryan had been antsy about this for days.

"Yeah, fine. It'll be fine. Just don't say anything about the band, and it'll be fine."

"Ryan, come on. I get that you're not doing what they expected, but they'll come around."

She gave a short laugh. "Yeah, right. I just haven't been patient enough for the past four or five years."

"Well, you know, in my family, when Eileen said she wanted to go in the Peace Corps, that didn't exactly go down easy for some of us."

"Brody, you don't get it." Ryan huffed in frustration and threw her head back against the seat. "My parents are not like yours. They aren't waiting for me to finish going through a phase. They think I'm being stupid, and that I'm wasting my time and my education, not that they thought much of that, either."

"Okay, I'm sorry." He reached over and patted her leg. "Let's forget about it. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm sorry." She took a deep breath. "Don't misunderstand. I'm not saying I was neglected or abused or anything like that. Not at all. My parents are decent people. But at the risk of sounding like a melodramatic teenager, they don't understand me. They never did. If it isn't sports, Dad's not interested. Mom's happy to be the fifties-era housewife and just goes along with him."

Brody nodded and dropped the subject. They pulled up in the driveway and Ryan stared at the house for a minute before undoing her seatbelt. Brody came around to open her door and she smiled at him.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more," she murmured. At his puzzled look, she explained. "Shakespeare, Henry V, Act Three. I was an English major. See, it comes in handy."

He chuckled and took her hand as he led her up to the house.

x-x-x-x

Brody sensed Ryan's tension all through dinner. She seemed to be waiting for something bad to happen, but he couldn't figure out what. Her mom was sweet, and insisted he call her Judy. Her father, Jim, was a big man, and it was easy to see the football player he'd been.

Judy made spaghetti with meatballs and garlic bread, and after dinner, they moved into the living room before having dessert. Judy brought out coffee for everyone and Brody thanked her as he took his and added some cream.

"So, I hear you've met Evan," Judy said as she sipped at her coffee.

"Yes, I did. He's a tall guy," Brody said, drawing smiles from Ryan's parents. "If he's half as good at basketball as Ryan is at her music, he must be something to watch." He felt compelled to say something complimentary about Ryan. The conversation over dinner had centered around her brothers, and he noticed that her parents hadn't said much to their daughter since they'd arrived. Nor had she said much to them; it was weird.

When he'd brought Ryan to meet his family, chaotic as it had been over the holidays, everyone had talked, sometimes at each other, sometimes over. No one had been ignored. 

"Evan's the best guard to come out of his high school in twenty years." Jim thumped his hand on the table for emphasis. "The only problem is the NBA making him stay in school. He could be playing in the pros right now." 

"Oh, sweetie, you know he'll be fine." Judy patted her husband's hand.

"College can help," said Brody. "I mean, I wouldn't trade my years at college for anything, really. It was a great time to make friends and learn from the coaches in a much less stressful environment." He didn't know what else he might say to bring Ryan into the conversation.

"But you got drafted, right? Before you graduated?" Jim prompted.

"Um, yes, I did. But I would have finished it out if I hadn't been drafted that year, and tried again the next." Brody felt a little uncomfortable with the questions, but saw no reason not to be honest.

"There, see." Jim gestured towards his wife. "Getting degrees is overrated."

"Now, Jim, you know some kids wait until after college to go pro," Judy admonished. "It doesn't hurt."

"I'd have to agree," Brody said. "College can be a big help. I know a lot of guys who got their degrees. One of my teammates was a history major."

Jim grunted into his coffee and silence fell over the group. It didn't last long before Judy spoke up. "So, Brody, how did you come to play hockey?"

"Good question," said Jim. "I would have thought you'd have gone for football at Michigan State. They're a big draw up there."

"They are, indeed. My younger brother went to Michigan State." Brody was at a loss; he'd never wanted to play football, even when he was little. Once he'd had a hockey stick in his hand, other sports held no appeal. Jim obviously thought football was the only sport that mattered. "I guess football just wasn't my thing. I played some baseball growing up, but hockey was what called to me."

Jim nodded but said nothing. Brody sensed Ryan tense more, and he wasn't even touching her. He tried to change the conversation and looked at Jim. "Ryan tells me you went to University of Maryland."

"I did." Jim nodded. "Had me a football scholarship. I played left tackle, and I was damn good. They put me in as a starter while I was still a freshman, and I was going to the NFL, everyone said so. I came this close." Jim held up a hand with his thumb and index fingers almost touching. "I had three teams interested in me. Then a play went bad, a guy fell on top of me and busted my knee."

"Sorry to hear that."

Jim shrugged. "It happens. I got over it. Had to leave school since I lost my scholarship, but I got a job in construction, worked my way up to site foreman. Good, honest work. You don't need a piece of paper if you're willing to work hard.

"Now, JT—our oldest boy—he's even better than I was. He set the school record for tackles last season and he's entering the draft this year. If he doesn't go in the first round, I'll eat my hat."

"You don't wear hats, dear," Judy said. Her smile and glance at Brody told him they'd had the exchange many times before.

"Figure of speech, hon."

They chatted for a bit more, with Jim recounting the various successes JT and Evan had had with their athletics. Nothing about Ryan, Brody couldn't help but notice. When it was going on eight o'clock, Judy said, "I know, Jim, why don't you show Brody the kids' trophies? Ryan, could you give me a hand with dishes, dear?"

Brody gave Ryan a quick smile before getting up to follow her father out of the room.

x-x-x-x

"Well, Ryan, he seems very nice." Judy nodded in satisfaction as she rinsed the plates and handed them to Ryan to load in the dishwasher.

"Thanks, Mom. I think so, too."

"Now how long have you two been dating?"

Ryan counted to ten to calm herself down; she'd been on edge all night but her mom wasn't asking anything unreasonable. Yet. "I met him in October, I think, but we didn't start dating until just before Thanksgiving. I guess it's about three months now."

"Why didn't you say anything? Or bring him to meet us sooner?" Judy admonished.

"I don't know. Just waiting for the right time. He had road trips, and you guys were going to JT's games." Ryan shrugged. "It was hard to coordinate a time."

"Oh, well, I guess you're right." Judy put away the leftover meatballs and sauce in the refrigerator, then moved to get the pasta. "So, is it serious? Come on, you can tell me."

"I suppose. We haven't talked about it." Ryan was cautious. Since she wasn't sure herself, she didn't want to give her mother the wrong impression.

"I mean, because he seems so sweet. He's polite, and he's certainly handsome."

"That's true, but it's only been three months, Mom, like I said."

"He feels like a keeper to me, sweetie." Judy gave her a knowing look. "I know a lot of girls wait to get married these days, but I don't think it's always a good idea to wait. Then you're older when you have kids, if you have kids." She made a tsking sound. "I'd like to be a grandmother sooner rather than later." 

Ryan felt trapped. "Yeah, I know, Mom. Still, I don't think we're anywhere near that serious."

"Not yet, maybe," Judy said. "Things can happen quickly. And I know, I know, you want to make your music and everything, but you have to be reasonable. Not many people succeed in that business. You can always keep playing just for yourself, as a hobby."

"Right." Ryan wondered just how awful it would be if she left and hotwired Brody's car to go home. Or, since she didn't know how to hotwire anything, maybe she could swipe his keys out of his jacket. Her father would drive him home. 

Her mother's voice pulled her out of her escape fantasy. "Oh, look, they're back. Let's get dessert." Judy pulled a cheesecake out of the refrigerator and put slices on dessert plates and set them around the table. 

Ryan followed with forks and napkins, still considering escape plans. Then her father came in and gestured for Brody to sit down. He did, and accepted when Judy offered another cup of coffee. Ryan sat next to him, her appetite gone, and poked at her cheesecake.

"So, Ryan hasn't told me yet, but how did you two meet?" Judy sat down and reached for her coffee.

Brody told them how he'd been visiting Mark and met Ryan when he'd gone to leave and she'd dropped her groceries in the hallway.

"Oh, isn't that sweet? Just like you'd read in a book." Judy beamed.

Brody smiled and sipped his coffee. "I was just trying to be helpful. Then one night we caught up again and went out for dinner. Sushi." 

Judy wrinkled her nose and Jim rolled his eyes. "Never could stand the stuff. Who in their right mind eats raw fish?" he demanded.

"It's not for everyone," Brody acknowledged, "but still, I like to try new things."

Ryan spoke up. "Brody cooks. He's good, too. You should try his enchiladas, Mom."

"Only if they're not too spicy. I've just never been one for spicy foods. Neither is Jim, are you, dear?" 

"That's okay, there's plenty out there to try." Brody took a bite of cheesecake. "This is terrific, Judy."

"Thank you. Best I can get in a box," she said with a smile.

"Anyway," Brody went on, "I had to convince her, you know, to go out with me. It took a lot of work, but she gave in." He glanced over at Ryan, who gave him a half-smile and sipped at her coffee.

"Ryan always was stubborn," Judy said. "More so than either of the boys. I always said she got that from Jim's side of the family."

Jim grunted a non-committal reply as he ate his dessert.

Brody turned to Ryan. "Hey, have you told them about the tour?"

"Tour?" Judy was puzzled. "What do you mean, a tour?"

Ryan put her fork down and sat back. "The band—we've been picked up for a tour. It'll start in April."

"Is this like when you went around before?" Judy asked. "I never did understand that."

"No, this is different." Ryan cleared her throat. "The tour is sponsored, and we've been asked to join it. We'll be paid. This won't be like before, when we organized the dates ourselves."

Her father stared at her. "Will you quit your job like you did before?" 

Judy looked dismayed. "Oh, Ryan, that's a big risk right now. Are you sure that's what you'll do?"

"What about your apartment?" her father objected. "How can you afford your rent if you're not working?"

Ryan shrugged and her voice was tight when she replied. "We're still working out details. I have a lot of leave built up, and some credit time, and I might be able to work out some unpaid leave. Lara and I have both been saving, and we could sublet the apartment. Plus, we are getting paid." Her knuckles went white around the handle on the coffee mug.




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 07



"I've seen Ryan perform," Brody said. "I think she and the rest of the band are great. They work hard and you can hear it when they play."

Ryan clenched her jaw as silence filled the room. Her parents stared intently at their coffee and it was all she could do not to storm out right then. Brody darted her a questioning glance, but she just shook her head.

As though someone had poked her, Judy popped out of her seat. "Oh, Ryan, I almost forgot—I have a box of things for you. We're cleaning out; you know how things pile up in the basement. I'll be right back." 

They were quiet while she went into another room, then came back with a medium-sized cardboard box. "RYAN" was scribbled in black marker on one side.

Ryan opened the box and her expression darkened. She closed it without a word, all but biting her tongue off in an effort to keep calm.

"I think we'd better get going." Ryan flicked a glance at Brody. "I have to work tomorrow." 

"Good idea. I have practice in the morning myself."

Ryan took the box and led the way to the door. They donned their coats and Brody turned to her parents.

"Thanks, Jim. It was a great dinner, Judy. I'm really glad I got to meet you both." He shook hands with each of them in turn.

"It was good to meet you, too, Brody." Judy gave him a bright smile. "We hope we get to see you again soon."

"Bye," said Ryan.

"Bye, honey." Judy gave Ryan a brief hug and a peck on the cheek. "I'll call in a few days. Remember there's your cousin's birthday party in a couple of weeks."

"Right."

They walked out to the car as Ryan's parents closed the door. Brody was surprised at that; his parents would stand on the front step and make sure anyone who was leaving got in their car and started the engine before they'd go back inside.

Ryan was quiet, and Brody struggled with what to say. Ryan's parents had not been at all what he expected, but he didn't think Ryan would want him to say that. They were her parents, after all; he knew if someone questioned his parents, he'd get defensive. He waited to see if Ryan would say anything, but she only stared out the window with her arms crossed in front of her.

"So, ah, your parents seem nice." That was a neutral enough comment, he thought.

Ryan gave a derisive snort. She stared out the window and her responses after that were laconic at best, and he wasn't sure what to do. Aside from the awkward silences, he thought it had gone all right. They hadn't thrown him out, that had to count for something, right?

They drove in silence for a while until Brody couldn't take it. "So, what's in the box?"

"Nothing."

"You looked a little upset about it, so I just wondered."

"It's nothing. It's not important." Her voice was sharp.

"Okay, okay." He drew in a breath and glanced at her. "Ryan, are you all right?"

"Yeah, fine." She wouldn't look at him.

"You sure?

"Yeah."

"Okay." Brody gave up and said no more as they drove back.



Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 08



Author's note: Sorry for the delay, and there will likely be one with the next chapter. I caught up to myself. Thanks to estragon for help with copy editing.

==================================

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

The night after meeting Ryan's parents, Brody was playing pool with Drew, Bax, and Tolya at an Arlington sports bar. He took his shot, missed, and stepped back for Drew, and told them about the dinner.

"Her dad asks me if I ever played football, because obviously he thinks that's the only sport worth playing." Brody shook his head. "Jesus. So there I am, trying to find a nice to way to say, no, I didn't want to play the sport that he's obsessed with."

"Did he ask you about your intentions towards his daughter?" Bax elbowed him. "Would have been my first question."

"You mean you would have let him in the door?" Drew joked and Bax laughed. "Come on, Brody. So her dad's a big football fan, so what?"

"I'm telling you guys, it was like the Twilight Zone meets Leave It to Beaver." Brody took a swig of beer and leaned his cue stick against the wall. "Her dad takes me into the den, and there's these two huge cabinets, all glass, you know?" He gestured with his hands to indicate their size. "They must have kept every single award her brothers ever got and put them in there. "

"Well, is that so bad?" Drew stood back for Bax to take his turn. "I mean lots of people keep stuff like that."

"Not like this." Brody shook his head. "I mean, everything. Those participation certificates they give you when you're six years old. Box scores from the newspapers. Old jerseys and helmets."

"Could have been worse," said Bax. "Could have kept the jock straps."

They all laughed at that. Bax took his turn and stepped aside so Tolya could take his.

"And then, oh, man." Brody waited while Tolya shot. "Her dad took me upstairs to show me stuff they hadn't put downstairs. It was incredible, and I don't mean that in a good way. No parents should keep that much stuff."

Drew laughed. "You're just jealous."

"Bite me." Brody studied the table, sank his first shot and missed the next, then made room for Drew. "And her mom. Don't get me wrong, she's very sweet. Can't make spaghetti sauce worth a damn, though, and she bought the cheesecake. Anyway, she's like some kind of Stepford wife. It was all 'isn't that right, Jim?' and 'Jim doesn't like that, do you, Jim?'" He shuddered. "Very creepy.

"I tell you guys, now that I've met them, it's no wonder Ryan doesn't talk to them much. They are bizarre. Nice enough, but bizarre."

"Just think," Bax said as he lined up, "her mom probably has you lined up as a future son. Maybe they can put your awards in there, too."

"Bax, that is so not funny." Brody gave him a pained look.

"Especially since you're not likely to win any," Drew said, and laughed at Brody's glare.

x-x-x-x

"You okay?" Lara poked her head into Ryan's room. Hard, heavy music stomped out of the speakers.

"Yeah, fine. Why?" Ryan looked up from her notebook and turned the music down. While Brody was out with his teammates, she was trying to get a handle on preparing for the tour. Since coming back from dinner the night before, she'd been in a lousy mood so she hadn't even bothered working on any songs.

"How did dinner go last night?"

"Swell. They thought he was great." 

"Well, that's good, isn't it?"

Ryan shrugged. "Better than the alternative, I guess. I should have sent him alone, I doubt they would have missed me."

Lara pushed the door open and stepped in. "It couldn't have been that bad. Did they yell at you or something?"

"No, although you should have heard them with the tour. What about your job? What about your apartment?" Ryan snorted. "I don't know why I thought I'd get anything resembling a congratulations. I seem to have a blind spot that way."

"You know it doesn't matter, Ry. You're really good at what you do. We are really good at what we do, or they wouldn't have taken us on the tour."

"I know, I know." Ryan nodded. "It was just annoying. Even a little embarrassing. I bet if one of Brody's siblings said something like that, their parents would throw a party."

"Well, that's why we have Mitch's mom." Lara grinned. "She'll throw us a party and we'll have all kinds of fun."

"Yeah, we will." Ryan forced a smile.

"Speaking of moms, I'm headed over to see mine now. Do you want to come? Female bonding time and all that?"

"No, thanks. I'm not good company right now, I don't think."

"Okay. Call me if you change your mind."

"I will, thanks."

Ryan stared at her notebook and heard Lara leave. She envied the close relationship Lara had with her mother. Ryan had never been close with her own. She shook her head, turned up her music and focused on making lists in her notebook.

x-x-x-x

On Sunday, Brody rubbed his hand over his face as he went down to get the mail that he'd forgotten the day before. It was almost lunch time, and he wondered whether Ryan had eaten. Stupid question, he thought. From what he'd learned, Ryan didn't eat on a terribly regular schedule.

"Hey, Brody."

He looked up from the mailbox. "Hi, Lara. How's it going?"

"Good, and you?"

"Not bad. Hey, Ryan told me about the tour. Congratulations. I think it's fantastic; you guys will blow them away."

"Thanks." She nodded and gave him a tentative look. "Say, do you know if anything is up with Ryan? Any problems at her parents?"

"No, why? I haven't had a chance to talk to her since then; we've been playing phone tag."

"She's in a snit. She's been listening to her angry music."

"Angry music?" He had to smile.

"The Dillinger Escape Plan, Converge, groups like that. She likes to think I don't notice, but I do." Lara made a face. "You have no idea how many times I had to listen stuff like that in high school and college after something would happen with her family." 

"Is she home now?"

Lara rolled her eyes. "She was in full brooding mode when I left, with musical accompaniment, and I have no reason to think it's changed."

"I gather forewarned is forearmed?"

"I'd hate to send anyone in there unprepared."

"Much appreciated. Should I put my pads on?"

Lara laughed. "I don't think it's that bad. But listen, can I give you some advice about Ryan?"

"I'm a guy. When it comes to women, we need all the advice we can get. That's what my sister says."

Lara smiled. "Ryan keeps a lot of things to herself. I have the best-friend connection, and I know the music cues, so I know when she's upset. I gave you the heads-up this time, but I won't always be around to tell you."

"See, it's a girl thing, I knew it." He shook his head in mock frustration. "We men have no chance."

x-x-x-x

Ryan stared at the keyboard and it stared back. She hated when she was like this, so upset and frustrated that she couldn't work on her music. She'd been in a bad mood since the dinner at her parents' house. Not just because of her parents and the way they'd handed her that box, as though they wanted to erase any indication of her. Okay, she would admit she might be overreacting there, but that's what it felt like. They kept every freaking thing her brothers had ever received, but nothing she did was good enough. They reminded her of that every time she saw them, which made her wonder why she kept trying.

She'd been telling herself for so long that she didn't need or want her parents' approval, and most days she believed it. Then something would happen, and she realized she did want it, and it ticked her off. 

She was also mad at Brody's reaction, or lack thereof. How could he not see how hurt she was? Because I'm such a good actress, she thought with a bitter laugh. She didn't like that either; she did not like to think she was one of those women who expected her boyfriend to read her mind. Lara would tell her just be straight with Brody, but Ryan wasn't sure what to say. 

"Oh, Christ, this is useless." Ryan got up from the keyboard. The guitar had been no good either. Part of her wanted to blame her parents for this dry spell, but she wouldn't. She was letting it bother her, she told herself, and there was no one to blame for that but herself. She needed to find a way to let it go.

She turned on some music, checked the time and saw it was after noon. On cue, her stomach growled. She wandered out to the kitchen, opened a couple of cabinets and grabbed a bag of Combos. She ate a few and leaned against the counter, listening to some more of the crunching guitar chords that drove Lara crazy and wondering what to do next, when there was a knock at the door.

"Hi, Brody."

"Hey." He leaned on the doorjamb. "Is it safe to come in?"

"What do you mean?" She stepped back to let him in.

"I ran into Lara downstairs and she said you were upset."

Ryan shrugged and closed the door as he came inside.

He followed her over to the couch. "You don't know if you're upset?" He listened for a minute. "If Lara is right and the music is any indication, then I'd say you're not happy."

"I'm just not in a good mood." She sat down.

"What are you eating?" Brody snatched the bag away over her protests. 

"Combos. I was hungry. They were there." She reached for the bag but he held it out of reach.

"Do you know how much salt is in this stuff?"

"So I won't have salt on my dinner. Give it back."

"I can't. I'd never forgive myself."

Ryan made a frustrated sound and slumped back on the couch. "Brody, I'm really not in the mood."

"Ryan, what's wrong?"

"Can't I just be in a bad mood?"

"Sure, but there must be a reason."

She glared at him. "If I say I got my period, will you leave me alone?"

"I have two sisters and a mom. Such things do not faze me."

Ryan dropped her face into her hands and tugged at her hair. "Oh, never mind."

"Ryan, come on." He leaned back and looked at her. "Are you not feeling well or something? You've got the tour, the dinner with your parents went well, so what is it?"

"Went well?" She stared at him. "Yeah, I guess from your standpoint, it did."

"Look, I get that your dad is totally sports-obsessed, and I gather your mom is content to go along. But so what? Did you want me to not get along with them?"

"Yes, it's fine. I did the impossible—I've finally done something they can approve of."

He smiled. "I told you I could handle parents."

"That's not the fucking point!" Ryan pushed up from the couch, missed Brody's look of surprise, and started pacing the room. "You have no idea how much effort it took for me not to walk out of that house. Do you—do you know what was in that box? The one my mom gave me?"

"No, you never told me."

"Hold on." Ryan strode into her room and came back with the box, which she opened and handed to him. "Here, go on and look."

"Okay." He flipped through the contents and while Ryan waited, her anger and tension building. Brody looked up. "These are awards you won?"

"Yes, and notice how they're in a box?"

No wonder she was upset, he thought. Brody set the box aside; he had no idea what to say.

Ryan waited for him to say something, and snapped when he didn't. "Notice how they aren't even up on a damned refrigerator, because they have nothing to do with kicking a fucking ball around? Do you know how frustrating it is to go there? I don't know why I worried about introducing you; you're an athlete."

"Look, I—"

"The next time I see them, I can guarantee my dad's going to make some smart-ass remark about how I like athletes for their money even if I don't like sports." 

Brody just stared. "What are you—"

"I don't know why I go back there. I don't know why I talk to them in the first place." She threw her hands up. "When you were upstairs, did you see my room?"

"I'm not sure."

"No, you didn't, because it's a fucking office. They did that after my first semester. Any time I came back after that, I slept on the couch in the den. I moved in with a roommate the next summer. What kind of parents do that? But Evan and JT—they'll keep those rooms like shrines until the day they die."

Ryan kept talking as her throat tightened. She was too angry for tears, she told herself. "That's why I didn't tell them about the tour. It doesn't matter what I do, how well I do it, or how much money I make. It will never be good enough because I don't wear some shirt with a name and number on the back. 

"This tour is the biggest thing that's happened to me, to my friends, and what do they say? Not good job, not congratulations, no." She shook her head. "That would indicate some kind of approval, and they can't do that. You know, sometimes I don't think they'd forgive me being a musician even if I had been a boy."

Brody looked at her, lost. "A boy?"

She gave a short, harsh laugh. "Why do you think I have the name Ryan? My dad was all set to name his first-born son after himself, and then I come along with the wrong plumbing. My mom finally told him some boys' names were okay for girls, and so here I am, named after Nolan Ryan and Pat Riley."

"Ryan, you're not making sense." Brody stood up. "I'm sorry that your parents don't like what you do, but you do it, and you're amazing. You all are."

"They don't just 'not like' it. They—they actively think I'm an idiot. It's so hard to get this across to you. Your family is great; picture perfect. You guys could probably rob a bank and it wouldn't shake them at all." Ryan took a breath to calm herself but it didn't work. "I bet they had a party for every graduation, and when you made it to the NHL it was the best thing ever. I tell my parents about the tour, and you saw what happened. I knew that would happen, so I told you first. I wanted to tell you first."

"I know, and I thought it was great. I told you that."

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "You were no better than they were. You had about as much enthusiasm as if I'd told you I'd bought a pair of socks. But I should have known that because you're an athlete, and obviously nothing matters more than sports."

Brody's expression darkened. "That's not fair. You know that was a rough day for me. My brother told me about his separation, and I was just back from the road trip."

"Yep, it's just like talking to my parents. Sports are the reason and excuse for everything."

For a moment, they faced each other and the silence pounded in her ears. She couldn't recall the last time she'd felt this angry and this alone.

Brody clenched his jaw and had to work it loose before he could speak. "You can't do that. You can't throw my job up at me just because you have parental issues you haven't sorted out."

"I don't need to sort anything out. It's crystal clear what they think, and what you think." She met his eyes and dared him to say otherwise.

Brody took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm leaving. I came here because I missed you, and then I saw Lara and we were both worried about you. But I guess there's nothing to worry about, if you've got it all sorted out."

"I've been doing this myself for years. I can keep doing it."

Brody strode over and grabbed his bag. "Fine, you keep doing it by yourself."

Ryan watched him go and slammed the door behind him for the minute bit of satisfaction it gave her. 

x-x-x-x

Brody leaned forward on the bench and glanced up at the clock. Less than three minutes left, and they had a one-goal lead over visiting Toronto. The refs blew the play dead and everyone sat back and took a breath as the broadcast went to one final television time-out.

The coach grabbed a whiteboard with rink markings on it and outlined their next play. Brody nodded and climbed over the boards with his teammates. Mark was out on defense and even though the draw was in the Toronto zone, the Caps' goalie was focused on the play.

The puck dropped and the players scrambled for it; the puck scuttled into open ice. Brody darted down to grab it and flung it across the ice to Mark, who collected it at the blue line and waited for a clear passing lane to open so they could execute the play.

Brody knew what would happen next: the Leafs would try to gain possession and get out of their zone, and in another minute, they'd pull their goalie for the extra skater. Might even pull him earlier if it looked like it would pay off. He turned his attention to keeping the Leafs penned in their zone. 

A Leafs' defenseman corralled the puck and shot it up ice. Both teams raced up to follow, and Toronto's goalie skated to the bench. Another forward took his place as play moved into the Caps' defensive zone. The teams fought for the puck, but a slap shot by Toronto hit a stick and went out of play. Everyone sucked air and Brody hopped over the boards, his shift done. 

Brody watched as the Caps won the face off and the puck went to Baxter, who carried it up and shot it at the Leafs' empty net. It didn't have enough power behind it, and the ice was rough, but his linemate, Callahan, got there before any of the Leafs did and sent it into the empty net. The Caps' bench, along with the arena, jumped up and cheered.

The goal energized the Caps, who played keep-away and penned the Leafs in their own zone for the last minute or so of the game, and when the siren sounded to end the game, relief and more cheers swept through both players and fans. Brody joined in the celebration but felt tired and empty.

Coach gave them a quick, complimentary pep talk before reminding them of their schedule the next day. There were more road games on the horizon, including one the next night in Toronto, the second half of the home-and-home with the Leafs, the last time the teams would meet for the season.

He busied himself with his after-game routine, going over the list of things he'd need to pack for the trip; they were leaving in the morning. It was an unnecessary exercise—he could pack for a trip like this in his sleep. On the other hand, it kept his mind occupied.

Brody, Bax and Mark went to a small bar in D.C. a few blocks from Verizon Center to unwind after the game. Brody slid into his seat and ordered a beer and Mark and Bax followed suit. Brody listened as his friends rehashed the game, offering no opinions unless asked a direct question.

Bax took a drink and looked at Brody. "You okay?" 

"Sure. Why?"

"You're not your usual obnoxious self. Everything okay?"

"Fine."

"How's Ryan?"

Brody shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Haven't talked to her in a few days."

Bax paused before replying. "You guys just busy, or what?"

"Don't know. You'd have to ask her."

Mark turned to him. "What happened? What did you do?"

Brody stared at his friend. "Where the fuck did you get this idea that I'm such an asshole when it comes to women?"

Mark and Bax exchanged a glance, then Mark shrugged. "Sorry, man. So what happened?"

Brody took a long pull on his beer. "It would appear I'm too much of a jock for her. I didn't jump up and down enough when she told me about her tour."

Bax nodded. "Okay, then."

"Come on, that can't be all of it. What did you do?" Mark tapped his finger on the glass.

"Gainer, if you ask me that once more, I will break your leg."

Mark and Bax exchanged another look. Brody huffed out a breath. "Guys, look, I'm not in the mood for this. I just want to decompress for a while, then go home." 

"Why don't you call her?" Bax asked.

"She knows how to get in touch if she wants to."

"Come on, man. You're going to let it go just like that?" Mark leaned back in his seat.

Brody gave him a puzzled look. "What do you care? You never thought I should go out with her in the first place."

"I was just worried you'd end up hurting her."

"Relax, that's not what happened." Brody drained his glass. "Trust me, Ryan can handle herself. She made that very clear."




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 08



Bax's laugh rumbled up from his chest. "Can you handle her?"

"Very funny, Bax, but it's a moot point."

"Nah." Bax waved a hand. "These things happen. You'll get past it."

"Right." Brody signaled for another beer.

Later, at home, Brody sat in front of the television. Someone was making something fantastic on the food channel, but he couldn't concentrate. Food, he thought sourly, made him think of Ryan. In fact, it felt like everything made him think of Ryan, and it pissed him off.

She'd broken up with him. That was fine, he'd been through plenty of break ups, and been on both sides of it. None of those, however, had affected him the way this had. He'd been amazed at how disappointed he was when she hadn't called or come over after a couple of days. He'd never felt like that after a break up before. With previous girlfriends when it was over, it was over, and he could deal with that.

He hadn't expected to miss her and he didn't know what to do about it. It didn't even seem fair. She'd been the one who'd started the argument; by all rights, he should still be pissed off at her. The only thing was, anger wasn't the only emotion he felt; it wasn't even the primary one.

It was just as well she hadn't called. It was all getting too serious, anyway, and he'd never meant for that to happen. He didn't want to be tied down when he still had hockey to play. He didn't want to be like Bax, not seeing his family for weeks on end because they were in one city and he'd gotten traded to another. 

Ryan had said she could do it herself. Brody saw no reason to doubt her. 

x-x-x-x

At rehearsal, Ryan was pleased that things were running smoothly. They sounded good; she felt like they hadn't meshed like this in ages. Maybe Jason's absence was the key, she thought. They'd all remarked on how much less stressful everything was without him. 

Even so, Ryan was distracted. She'd felt guilty since she'd gone off on Brody, and knew she'd been wrong. She wanted to apologize but wasn't sure if he'd listen, and she couldn't blame him if he didn't. The song ended and she stared at the floor, lost in thought. She didn't see her friends looking at each other, then her.

"Ryan. Hey, Ryan." Lara waited for a response, then looked at the guys.

Mitch bashed his cymbals and Ryan jumped. "What the hell?"

"Ryan, you're not all here," Mitch said. "You okay? We can take a break for a while or knock off, whatever."

"Um, yeah. Sure. I could use a break."

"Okay, you guys go." Lara made a motion to shoo Nate and Mitch out of the room. "Go somewhere and come back in a little while."

"Yes, Mom." Nate grinned as he set his bass down. "Hey, Ryan, if it's guy trouble, remember—show up naked with beer. If it's really serious, bring pizza, too." 

"You guys are so helpful." Ryan shook her head and laughed as the guys left, then turned to Lara as she leaned her guitar on its stand. "What's up?"

"Mitch is right, you're not all here. What's going on?"

"I'm fine. I'm sorry; I'm just a little tired, and you know how I am. I'm thinking about the tour."

"Yeah, I got that. Ryan, you are not just distracted. You played with about as much emotion as a robot. Or dare I say, Jason?" 

Ryan stared at her friend. "God, I must really suck."

"I know something's been bothering you, and it probably has to do with Brody."

"How would you know that?"

"Please, I'm your best friend." Lara scoffed, then sat down. "I'm serious. You've been in a pissy mood ever since he met your parents and if I hear one more angry metal song, I'm going to turn your iPod off with a hammer. You haven't mentioned him at all for the past few days. So tell me what it is. Did you break up?"

Ryan dropped into a chair; Lara could be nosy, but this was genuine concern and deserved an answer. "I'm not sure if we broke up, but we did have a fight. Well, I did."

"What happened?"

Ryan explained about their argument. "I know, I was wrong. I was just so mad, and he was there and I took it out on him. I went too far."

"So go apologize. He'll listen."

"I should, whether he listens or not. I owe him that much."

"Whatever you do, do it soon. We need you back."

Nate and Mitch returned with food, much to the amusement of Ryan and Lara. Ryan noted that Nate never returned without food, not that she was complaining. After a snack and a quick discussion, they ran through a couple more songs before calling it quits for the day.

On the drive home, Ryan waited; she knew Lara wouldn't be able to not say anything. It didn't take long.

"You know, I bet this isn't as bad as you think."

"Hmmm?"

"It's just a misunderstanding, and you guys have had time to cool off. It'll be fine."

"Probably."

"Brody's a cool guy; he doesn't seem like the type to hold a grudge."

"True."

"So it'll all work out."

Ryan shrugged. "One way or the other, I guess it will."

"When did you become so pessimistic?" Lara looked over and gave Ryan a little shove.

"Eyes front. I'm not. I'm just not getting my hopes up."

"You are so frustrating to talk to, do you know that?" Lara shook her head. "You're supposed to be nervous and tell me about it, and then we eat ice cream. You know, like women are supposed to."

"If I did that, what would you do with Trout?" Ryan laughed at Lara's scowl. "Relax, I'm going to talk to him. I'll go as soon as we get back; I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a game tonight. After that, you can get out the ice cream. Make sure there's lots of mint chocolate chip."

Once at the apartment, she put her guitar and keyboards inside. Fearing she might change her mind, she didn't even take her coat off before going up to Brody's. To keep herself occupied in the elevator, she double-checked the team's schedule via her phone and was both relieved and apprehensive to find the night clear.

She knocked on the door and toyed with the end of her purple scarf while she waited. When Brody answered the door, her mouth went dry.

"Hi." Brody stood in the doorway.

"Hi." Ryan cleared her throat. "I, ah, is this a bad time?"

"No, it's okay. Come on in."

"Thanks."

Ryan stood in his living room and played with the end of her scarf again. She knew what she wanted to say, but she couldn't get started. Brody broke the awkward silence.

"So, what's up?"

She looked at him, unsettled by his neutral expression. "I, um, I'm sorry. I was totally wrong last week and I never should have said, well, a lot of things. I was upset about my parents and other stuff and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have. I know I have a temper, but that's no excuse." She took a deep breath and kept going. "I should have apologized before now. So, I'm sorry." Ryan twisted the scarf around her hands.

Brody was quiet for minute, then nodded. "Okay."

Ryan was both relieved and uncertain. She hadn't thought past her apology and so had no idea what to say now. She groped for words.

"Okay, good. I—like I said, I'm sorry it took so long." She refused to look away and managed a small smile. "So, that's it. I just wanted to stop by and . . . anyway." She took a step back towards the door. When he made no move to stop her, she murmured a good-bye and left. In the elevator, she tried to ignore the heavy feeling of disappointment that settled over her. 

Lara was waiting for her when she walked in the door. "So, how did it go?"

Ryan shrugged. "It went. I apologized."

"And?"

"And he said okay. Then I left." Ryan hung her jacket on the back of a chair. "That's about all there is to it."

Lara stared at her. "That's all? He didn't say anything else?"

"He told me I could come in."

"Ryan, what—"

"Lara, it's done, okay?" Ryan took a breath; she hadn't meant to sound so sharp. "Look, I apologized and he accepted. Now, how about that ice cream?"

Lara looked as though she wanted to say something, but shook her head instead and went into the kitchen. Ryan pressed her fingers to her eyes; she wasn't sure there was enough ice cream for this.

x-x-x-x

Brody was quiet as he sat on the team bus the next day for the ride up to New York, still mulling over seeing Ryan the night before. This was one relationship area he had no experience with—the post-breakup phase. In the past, when he'd broken up with someone, they had stayed broken up. There'd been no apologies. 

Bax dropped into the seat next to him. "Well, you look like a barrel of laughs. Someone kick your dog?"

"Funny, Bax. I don't have a dog."

"Right. You must still be missing your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend." Not anymore, he thought, and the thought was depressing.

"You haven't talked to her at all?"

"Remember the part where she went ballistic on me and walked out?"

"I figured that would blow over. It's been over a week or whatever, right?"

"Christ, you aren't going to leave this alone, are you?" Brody shook his head. "Fine, I saw her last night. She apologized."

"And what happened?"

"Nothing. She said she was sorry, I said okay, and she left."

Bax gave him an exasperated look. "You know, a lot of times when people are going out and have a fight, one person says they're sorry and the other person forgives them and they resume the going out part of things."

Brody shrugged. "Yeah, well, I don't know if that will happen. If she's going to be mad about me playing hockey, then it's probably better if we don't start going out again."

"So that's it?"

Brody felt defensive. "What the hell do you want from me? She bitched about how she hated sports; that's not a good sign given what I do for a living."

"Yeah, but she apologized. She knew going in that you were an athlete. That probably isn't even why she was mad."

"How would you know?"

"I've been married for fifteen years. You learn a few things. People will be mad about one thing and fight about another. Teenagers are masters of this, believe me. I never know why my daughter argues with her mother or me."

Brody shrugged. "I guess. I'll have to take your word for it." He was glad when someone leaned across the aisle to talk to Bax, and took advantage of the break to slip his earbuds in and turn on his iPod.

Brody flipped the player around in his hand while he thought. He missed Ryan, and her apology only intensified the feeling. She had admitted being mad about her parents and taking it out on him, so maybe it had nothing to do with him at all. 

He went over the dinner with her parents and remembered how tense she'd been. A couple of times she'd clenched her jaw so tight he'd thought it might lock. It couldn't have been easy to hear her parents go on about her brothers like that, and then be so dismissive of what she was trying to do. He recalled the look on her face when she'd looked into the box containing her music awards; it was as though she'd been slapped.

Her explosion had taken him by surprise at the time, but it shouldn't have. He'd known her long enough by then to know, as Lara had said, that Ryan tended to keep things inside. He just hadn't paid attention, and that wasn't fair. When he got back to Virginia, he promised himself, he'd go see Ryan and apologize, and hope that what Bax had said about going out again wasn't out of the question.

The Caps lost and although he wasn't pleased, he was more preoccupied with seeing Ryan. The day dragged as he waited for her to get home from work. After a morning practice, he came home and talked to his parents and then ran some errands, but when he was finished it was still early afternoon. Video games were no distraction, nor was the Food Network. At last it was six o'clock, and then he made himself wait another fifteen minutes to make sure she had time to get home.

Brody knocked on her door and waited, still not sure what he wanted to say. He decided to start with "I'm sorry" and wing it from there. Ryan opened the door and looked up at him with a startled expression. 

"Hey, I—" he began, but she held up a hand and he saw that she was on the phone. 

She recovered from her surprise and gestured for him to come in, mouthing an apology as she went back to her conversation. 

"Sorry, Evan. So, are you sure? You have plenty of time to think about everything, you don't have to decide now." She listened to her brother and paced the room; Brody wondered what was up. "You sure you want to tell Dad, though? You know what he'll say. You could save yourself a lot of stress." She paused again, then laughed. "Well, maybe you can move in here. Lara's going to move in with Trout so I'll be looking for a roommate one way or another. Be a hell of a commute for you, though." Another pause. "Okay, Ev. Good luck and take it easy. Yeah, thanks. Bye."

She disconnected and rubbed a hand over her eyes before turning to Brody. "Hi. Sorry about that."

"No problem. Everything okay with Evan?"

Ryan bit her lip. "I hope so. He's decided he doesn't want to play pro ball, and he wants to tell Dad sooner rather than later."

"That's not going to go over too well, is it?"

"Like the proverbial lead balloon." She dropped onto the couch and Brody sat as well, but took care not to sit too close. "I told him he should wait and tell Dad later. He could avoid a lot of stress that way, and he might change his mind. He says he's as sure as he's going to get, and he doesn't want to fake it with Dad for the next few years. He still wants to play ball and keep his scholarship, he just doesn't want to go pro."

"It's his decision, and like you said, he may change his mind." Brody studied her as she stared up at the ceiling. She looked tired and not a little stressed; he suspected she'd even lost a little weight.

"I know. Which is why I think maybe he shouldn't tell Dad. Trust me, I know what it's like when Dad's plans are thwarted." She was quiet for a minute, then turned to look at him. "Don't take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here? I had the definite impression we were done."

"Yeah, I can understand that." He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees as he tried to get his thoughts in order. "Look, I've been thinking a lot. I'm not used to this."

Ryan's lips quirked up in a smile but she didn't say anything about him not being used to thinking, and he was grateful. "I mean, before, if I was seeing someone and there was a fight, that was it. Fight, break up, move on. For both people. 

"It's a common progression."

"Yeah, it is, but it's not the one I want. Look, I'm sorry. I didn't realize how hard that stuff with your family is for you." He raised his eyes to hers.

She shrugged and averted her eyes. "Too hard, really. I should be used to it. And it doesn't matter, because I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"I'll give you that, but it's okay. I take harder hits on the ice." He reached over and squeezed her hand. "And it does matter, and I should have seen it, but I didn't have the inside track on reading you like Lara does."

Ryan gave him a tired smile. "So she told you about the music, huh?"

"Yes, but I should have at least realized you were upset. Look, Ryan, I can't do anything about the hockey. It's my job and I love it. I want to fix this, what's between us, but I can't change that."

"I know, and odd as it may sound coming from me, I wouldn't want you to. It's obvious you love playing as much as I love music." She met his gaze. "I'd like to fix things, too, Brody. I've really missed you."

"Then let's consider things fixed." He moved closer to her and slid an arm around her shoulders. She turned and rested her head on his chest and they were quiet for a while until Brody tipped her chip up. "Have you eaten?"

She made a show of pondering the question. "Specify a time frame."

"Ryan."

"Have I had dinner? No. I didn't have a chance."

"Did you have lunch?"

"I think so. I remember eating a bag of chips at some point today; we were really busy trying to meet a deadline." She laughed at his expression.

"It's a good thing we've made up," he told her, "because otherwise you'd die of malnutrition."

"Please." She gave him an arch look. "Do I look like I'm malnourished?"

He took his time looking her over. "No, no I don't think so. I think you look pretty good, myself."

"That's good to know." She thought for a minute. "You know, I'm not sure what happens next. I've never done the fight-and-make-up thing."

Brody responded with a sly grin. "Really?"

"Never got to that point before. I've read about it, though, and Lara's had the odd spat with Trout, so I'm not entirely unfamiliar with the possibilities."

"Lara and Trout have spats?"

"Yes, even they have their difficulties."

"And how do they handle the make-up thing?"

"Oh, please. Like I want to know that."

Brody laughed and hugged her again. "Fair enough, I'm not sure I want to know either. So, do you have plans for tonight?"

"No. I was kind of beat and Lara's out. I was thinking I'd get some ice cream and call it a day." 

"Hmmm. I wonder what I can make that would beat out ice cream."

"It's mint chocolate chip."

Brody pretended to concentrate. "That's a tough one. I might have a chance against rocky road, but I don't know . . . ."

Ryan looked at him, serious now. "As much as I love ice cream, I'd rather be with you."

"Well, it's your lucky night, Ryan Bancroft." He grinned and lowered his lips to hers. "You get to have ice cream and me."

"I guess I'm all forgiven, then?"

"Depends on what you let me do with the ice cream."

x-x-x-x

March brought a lot of wind and rain, and Ryan felt like she'd walked through it all on her way home from work. She went into her apartment, hoping the quiet would alleviate her headache. It had been a hell of a day, but it was Friday and it was over. She tried to concentrate on that as she went to her room to change.

Things were moving along for the band. They'd found a lawyer through Trout's father, and a manager; Ryan was relieved to cross those items off her list. She had wrestled with the question of finding a new guitarist, but with the tour so close, she decided she had to drop it. The odds of finding someone now, who could learn the songs and take the time necessary for the tour, were slim at best. In addition, with the four of them meshing so well, it seemed foolish to introduce an unknown quantity.

Ryan sat down and rubbed her forehead. She needed to relax; tomorrow was Imaginary Grace's performance at the D.C. food festival. Their luck had been mixed at previous gigs. They'd been fine at the Birchmere in January, if not as good as at the 9:30 Club back in December. Ryan knew they couldn't expect every show to go as well as that one, but she could hope and it gave them something to aim for.

"Okay, calm down," she ordered herself. With her thoughts jumbled, she picked her guitar and sat on the couch. Sometimes just noodling on the guitar with no real purpose helped her calm down and think. 

Her thoughts wandered to her job and apartment. She had some leave built up and could probably arrange some unpaid time, but she didn't think that would cover it all. She wasn't sure whether she'd have to give up the apartment. She'd need a roommate to keep it, but in her circles, living arrangements were in a constant state of flux. Ryan figured she could put the word out that she was looking for a roommate, or a new place to live, and she'd hear back from someone. 

Her parents might let her come back for a bit, although the mere thought raised her blood pressure. She crossed that off her list of possibilities.

Brody would let her crash for a while if she asked, she supposed. She'd hardly talked to him in the last week; he'd had home and road games and she'd been busy with work and the band. She huffed out a breath. She missed him and was frustrated that they hadn't been able to connect.

Wasn't this just what she'd told Lara the problem would be? That she wouldn't have time for a relationship? And wouldn't Lara just be smug and pleased with herself to see Ryan having fits over this? Because what else could it mean except that Ryan had it bad for Brody?




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 08



Ryan laid the guitar across her lap. Her relationship with Brody weighed on her more than anything else. Brody was terrific; he listened to her, he never made her feel as though she was wasting her time on the band, and she was going to miss him when they went on tour. Her fear, which she wouldn't even admit to Lara, was that he wouldn't be there when she came back. They'd gotten past one rough patch, but surely others lay ahead.

She heard a knock on the door and set her guitar aside to go answer it. "Hey." She smiled, pleased to see Brody.

"Hi." He came in and gathered her in for a kiss. "I thought you were going to call me after you got home."

"Oh, I was. I'm sorry." She leaned against him. "I just got distracted. It was a long day and I was beat when I got home. I still have a headache."

"You should take something for that. Do you have anything?" He rubbed her back.

"Yeah, good idea. And it'll probably help if I eat something."

"How did I know you hadn't eaten?" He shook his head. "Look, go take something for your head and then we'll go to my place. You probably don't have anything here anyway."

"Okay." Ryan didn't have the energy to argue. She went to the bathroom and found some Tylenol. She took two out to the kitchen and downed them with a glass of water.

"Good to go?" Brody asked. 

She nodded and grabbed her guitar before leaving.

Back at his place, he reheated some food and insisted she have seconds. She smiled and gave in; it was nice to have someone look out for her.

"So, what's wrong?" Brody asked after she'd finished.

"Nothing's wrong, exactly." Ryan pushed her plate away and sat back in her chair. "There's just a lot going on with the tour and everything else. Lara's moving in with Trout after the tour, for one thing."

"I heard you say something about that to Evan. What are you going to do?"

Ryan shrugged. "She's mentioned it before, and I knew it would happen, so now it's a matter of dealing with it. Our lease is up soon anyway so it's good timing. I'll start asking around soon; someone must need a roommate, they always seem to."

"Could you stay with your parents until you find something?"

She looked at him, her expression one of confusion and hurt. "Brody, I thought you liked me."

He laughed. "Okay, okay. I take it back."

"I could probably go stay with my parents if I wanted to subject myself to psychological trauma."

"Don't do that. I don't want you traumatized."

"I don't know. Maybe it would trigger some new songs." She shook her head. "No; no song is worth that."

"Anything else bothering you?" He stood and took the dishes over to the sink. Ryan followed with the glasses.

"I think I'm just overwhelmed, like I said. This tour—we've been wanting something like this since we started. But now it's real." 

"You expected it not to be real?"

"No." She gave him a half-hearted glare. "It's just when I thought about it before, it all seemed so clear and easy. I didn't think about whether I'd have to sublet my apartment, or quit my job, or anything else. I decided I'm going to have to quit. I'll take my vacation time and all, but that's not enough."

"That's tough. Think you'll be able to find something else?"

"Probably. I mean, I have nothing against waiting tables or whatever. And I had a lot of people at work tell me they'd put in a good word and all when I got back. It's even possible I could work for the same place, but I'd have to go through all the hoops again."

"That's all good to know," Brody said.

"It is. It's still pretty daunting. I did quit a job once before when we put a tour together ourselves. I stayed long enough to save up some money, but I knew it wouldn't last there anyway so I didn't feel bad about leaving." They finished with the dishes and closed the dishwasher. Ryan turned to face him and leaned against the counter. "It was a lot easier in the abstract."

Brody slid his arms around her. "A lot of things are, but the reality can be fun, too."

"I know." She looked up. "Going out with you for real is fun."

"I'm flattered." 

Ryan nodded. "See, I worried that the abstract would be better, so it took a while for me to be convinced—" She laughed at the look on his face, but then gasped as he tightened his grip on her and swooped down for a kiss.

He held her close, keeping one hand around her waist and sliding the other one up her back until he cupped the back of her head. Ryan parted her lips on instinct and grabbed his arms to keep her balance. 

After a deep, thorough kiss, Brody looked at her. "Abstract is overrated."

She laughed and linked her hands behind his neck. "Point taken. Reality with you is better. Reality with the rest of my life is pretty stressful."

"Here, let me help." Brody nuzzled her neck and she giggled.

"That feels really good. You must be stressed too, with the playoffs coming up."

"Yeah, but remember—I am all about stress release." With that, he reached for the waistband of Ryan's jeans.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Ryan started to back away but he trapped her against the counter and kissed her again. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation as one of his hands slid inside her jeans and between her legs.

"Releasing stress. Weren't you listening?" He smiled against her lips and chuckled when she tightened her hands on his arms. 

Ryan dropped her head against his chest and bit her lip. Her hips rocked against his hand, even in her awkward position, and she felt the heat and tension building. She looked up and before she could say anything, Brody's lips were on hers. His free hand moved under her shirt and pushed her bra out of the way without bothering to unhook it in the back.

He kept his mouth on hers and moaned in appreciation as he cupped her breast. Ryan shivered as he stroked his thumb over her nipple. When he tore his lips away and nipped at her neck, she drew in a shaky breath. She murmured his name and felt the hand between her legs move faster, bringing her closer to coming. She wanted to touch him, to kiss him, but he had her trapped against the counter.

The wave built and crashed. She let out a cry and her nails dug into his arm as she came, gasping for breath as his hand kept moving. At last he stopped, although he left his hand in place as they both took a minute to collect themselves.

Ryan started to reach for him, but he stepped back, pulling her away from the counter.

"What?" She couldn't think straight.

"Nothing." He kissed her as he slid her jeans down over her hips. "We just need to readjust."

"What?"

"Turn around." 

She did, smiling to herself as she realized what he meant. She kicked her jeans off and felt him behind her, warm and hard. His breathing was ragged as he guided himself into her; he slid in and wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him for a moment before he began thrusting against her.

Ryan braced her arms on the counter, moving against him as best she could. He ran a hand over her back, then leaned forward and placed his lips over the pulse in her neck. She came again as he sucked on her skin, gasping as her body clamped around him. He made a noise of approval, at least she thought so, before urging her to turn her head so he could kiss her.

His hands moved down to her hips, gripping her hard and he had pull his mouth from hers as the pace of his thrusts increased. Ryan bit her lip as he tightened his fingers around her as he came, growling her name as he pressed against her. She was out of breath and could tell he was too. 

She wasn't sure how long it was until he moved. He turned her around and held her close. When she felt steady enough to open her eyes, Ryan couldn't stifle a laugh at how they both looked with clothes askew.

"Don't crush my ego like that, sweetheart." Brody glanced at her as he pulled up his jeans.

"Don't worry. It's just the situation, not the company." Ryan shook out her own jeans and stepped into them.

"That's good." Brody tucked his shirt back in and reached for her. "I hope you're feeling less stressed now."

"Definitely."

"Good. Come on." He tugged her into the living room. "There's a new 'Iron Chef America' on tonight."

x-x-x-x

Brody woke up and turned over, then opened his eyes when he realized Ryan wasn't there. He hoped she hadn't gone back to her place, but then he heard her guitar. He pushed himself up and reached for a pair of sweatpants.

Brody smiled as the notes trickled back to the bedroom; he loved watching and hearing her play. It still amazed him that the music she played was hers, that she had taken all the notes and arranged them in a way no one else had.

They'd watched a movie after dinner, or part of one. He'd gotten too distracted by watching her experiment with songs on her guitar. Her fingers had moved over the strings, which led him to consider how they'd feel moving over him, and then it was a matter of convincing her to try that. It hadn't taken much convincing, he recalled with a smile. For all that, he was sure something else was on her mind. After asking once, he'd let it drop, figuring she'd bring it up when she was ready.

He covered a yawn as he went into the living room. Ryan sat on the floor with her guitar, staring out the window as her fingers moved over the strings. She'd turned on one lamp but the room was otherwise dark.

"Is this a private gig, or can I come in?"

She smiled. "Hi. Sorry if I woke you."

He sat down facing her. "No, you didn't. I just woke up and heard you playing."

"I couldn't sleep."

"All that stress release and you couldn't sleep?" He raised an eyebrow. "What did I do wrong?"

"That's no comment on you." She laid the guitar across her lap. "I was quite relaxed for a while. Then, I don't know, I just woke up and couldn't go back to sleep."

"Still worried about the tour?"

"That's part of it."

"What's the rest of it?"

Ryan dropped her gaze to the floor, then looked at him. "Us."

Brody was silent for a minute, fighting off a rising nervous feeling. After last night—after everything until now—she wasn't going to break it off, was she? He tried to keep his voice light. "What about us?"

She took a deep breath and toyed with the ends of her hair. "I'm going to miss you."

Brody was relieved. "I'll miss you, too. I think that's how it usually works."

"I didn't expect to get involved with anyone. When I said earlier about all the stuff I thought of when I dreamed about a tour, I was always unattached. Now I'm not."

"Is that a bad thing?"

She smiled. "No, not at all. I just don't know, though. I've never done a relationship long-distance. I don't know how serious we are. I didn't know if you'd want to break it off before I left."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"People do. Mitch broke up with his girlfriend and the tour's still a few weeks off. You have the playoffs coming up, and I won't be there to see, at least not all of it. Maybe none of it, and it's the thing you've worked the hardest for. I'd understand if that made you mad." She picked up the guitar again and ran her fingers over the strings, eliciting faint notes that faded quickly.

"Ryan, come here." She leaned the guitar on the chair next to her and slid close enough for him to take her hands in his. "If I wanted someone who'd be there every minute, I'd have found someone like that. I like the fact that you have this goal for yourself, and I'm really excited you have the tour."

"Really?"

"Yes." He squeezed her hands. "Look, I admit things between us took me by surprise. I didn't expect it to get the way it is."

She raised an eyebrow. "And what way is that?"

He chuckled. "You're a tough one. Okay, I give. We're serious. More serious than I expected."

"Yeah." She gave a quick laugh. "Lara's been hitting me over the head with that question for weeks now. I'm in for tons of 'I told you so's. But that's okay. I didn't expect it to get serious either. I don't mind, though."

"Me, neither." He pulled her a little closer and leaned in to kiss her. After, he urged her to sit next to him and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You won't be the only one with friends giving you a hard time. Bax and my brother have been telling me practically since I met you that I was done for."

Ryan laughed. "They make me sound so dangerous."

"I figured I'd better be careful with you, or you'd send Annette and the Minnows after me. They'd string me up with all those fishnet stockings."

That set Ryan off in a fit of giggles that only worsened when Brody pretended not to understand what was so funny.

"Oh, hey, I have something for you." He dropped a kiss on her forehead and got up. He went into his room and came back with a plastic bag. "Here, I don't wrap stuff." He dropped down beside her again.

"You're such a guy," Ryan chided him, but took the bag. She opened it and took out a stuffed rabbit. "What's this?"

"You don't like him?" Brody had found a fuzzy purple rabbit in a store, and it had reminded him of her good-luck scarf.

"It's adorable." Ryan petted it and then gave him a puzzled look. "But why did you get me a rabbit? Easter's not for a couple of weeks."

"For luck." He nudged her. "It has all four feet, so that has to be lucky, right?"

Ryan stared at him for a moment, then threw her arms around him. "Thanks." 



Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 09



Author's note: My apologies for the delay in posting this. What can I say? Life got in the way and foiled the best laid plans of mice and writers. Please enjoy, and feedback is welcome as always.

*

Ryan had just saved her work log when her phone rang. She answered, hoping it wasn't a last-minute request for anything. She was anxious to finish up and get out; Brody was going to pick her up and they were going to get one last, quiet celebration in before the tour and the playoffs started up.

It was her supervisor, but luck was with her—the work was already done. Relieved, she sent the files and copied them to the shared drive on the network. She looked at the clock and groaned; the end of the day seemed further away than it had before. Annoyed, she pulled up the task list to see what she might be able to do for the last half an hour.

With work to focus on, time moved faster; when she next checked the time, it was going on five-thirty. Finally, she thought. She logged out of the system, turned off her computer, grabbed her bag and left. Once outside, she took a deep breath. It was spring at last, and it was a relief not to feel chilled to the bone after a damp winter. 

Brody hadn't arrived yet, so she pulled out her phone and opened her music app. She toyed with some ideas, every so often looking up to look for Brody's car. She wondered if they'd go for sushi or if Brody had a new restaurant he wanted to show her. It seemed that his hobby, aside from watching cooking shows, was finding places to eat. He'd found more in the few years he'd been with the Caps than Ryan had found in her whole life.

"RYAN!!"

She jerked her head around and saw her father stalking towards her.

"What the hell did you say to Evan?" He loomed over her.

"Hi, Dad. I'm fine. You?"

"Don't get smart with me! Who the hell do you think you are telling Evan not to declare for the draft?"

"What are you talking about? I never told him that!"

"Then what in God's name did you say?" Jim glared at her.

"I told him he didn't have to decide now. I told him he should think about it."

"Of course you did." Jim scoffed. "It's bad enough you've screwed up your own life, now you have to screw up his!"

"Fuck you! I didn't tell him to quit and I haven't screwed up anything!"

Jim looked at her, incredulous. "You don't think you've screwed anything up? Have you looked at yourself lately? You don't even have a real job! You are throwing away—"

"I have a real job! You're just pissed that I'm not doing something you pre-approved for me!"

Jim gritted his teeth. "You know what? I don't care what you do with your life. But you will not screw with your brother's plan!"

"It's not his plan, it's your plan!" Ryan couldn't remember when she'd been so angry. "You think it's so fucking important that he turns pro just because you couldn't!"

"I want your brother to have a future, goddamn it! Which is more than you've got right now! You won't always get a paid vacation to play that crap you call music."

That stung, but Ryan ignored it. "I'm doing what I want, and that's all Evan wants for himself. I didn't tell Evan to do anything one way or the other."

"You didn't even try to stop him!" Jim threw up his hands.

"There was nothing to stop! He asked me a question and I answered him. What the hell else was I supposed to do?"

"You should have told me about it the minute he said something to you!"

"Why should I? It's up to Evan."

Jim looked at her, incredulous. "Evan is fucking eighteen years old! He doesn't know what he wants, or what he needs!"

"But you do." Ryan crossed her arms in front of her.

"You're goddamned right I do! And he doesn't need anymore so-called help from you!" Jim took another step towards her and jabbed his finger at her. "I do not want you talking to him, do you understand me? No email, no phone calls, no goddamned texts!"

She smacked his hand away. "Christ, Dad, I'm not twelve! If I want to talk to my brother, I will!"

"What the hell is your problem? Why can't you, just once, do what you're told? Your brother has worked too hard not to go professional!"

"That's Evan's decision!"

"Decisions? You want to talk about decisions? Your life is the worst string of decisions I've ever seen!" Ryan could only stare as her father let loose. "First you decided to be friends with that slut, Lara. Your mother and I warned you not to hang out with trash like her and now you're no better than she is! Then you decided to be friends with drug addicts, which I guess makes sense since you'd have to be on drugs in the first place to think that noise you make is music, let alone that someone should pay you for it and—"

Ryan blinked when her father stopped short. She turned and saw Brody.

"Hey." He gave her a quick smile.

"Hi." 

"Jim." Brody nodded at her father.

"Brody." Jim's voice was even but Ryan knew he was still furious. 

No one said anything for several awkward seconds. Ryan was about to tell Brody she was ready to leave when her father spoke up.

"Brody, if you'll excuse us, Ryan and I are discussing some family issues." Jim took a step towards his daughter. Brody looked down at Ryan, who turned to her father.

"We're not discussing anything, and I am done with this." She turned to Brody. "I'm ready to go."

Jim grabbed her arm. "I am not finished with you!"

"Too damn bad, because I'm fucking finished with you!" Ryan yanked her arm back and stalked away.

x-x-x-x

"You okay?" Brody waited until they were a couple of miles away before saying anything. He went over possible plans for the evening while waiting for her answer. They'd planned to go out but after that blow up with her father, he couldn't imagine she wanted to sit at a restaurant. 

"Yeah." Ryan nodded. "So, where do you want to go?"

Brody darted a glance at Ryan, not trusting the even tone of her voice. "I thought you might want to head home. We could order in."

"Why?"

He drummed his fingers on the wheel as they waited at a light. "Ryan, you just had a major fight with your dad. You're upset; I thought you might want to keep it quiet tonight."

"I'm okay." Ryan shrugged. "Not like it hasn't happened before."

"Then why are you strangling your bag?"

Ryan looked down and saw that she'd been twisting the strap of her bag in her hands to the point that her knuckles were white and her palms red. She cleared her throat. "It was just a rough day."

"Ryan, Ryan, Ryan." He shook his head. "I'm not as clueless as I used to be. There may not be any angry music playing, but I can tell you're upset."

"I'm fine, I'm—" 

"Give it up, sweetheart."

She slumped back. "You're right. I'm—I don't know. I'm furious and I'm upset and I don't know what to do. I hate it."

Brody covered her hand with his for the rest of the ride and waited until they were back in his apartment before saying anything else. "Want to talk about it?"

"There's not much to talk about. Evan told Dad he doesn't want to go pro, so naturally it's all my fault and so Dad came to yell at me and blame me for it."

"That's ridiculous." Brody closed the door and rubbed her shoulder. 

Ryan let him take her coat. "Dad thinks I'm a bad influence. He probably wants to arrest me for corrupting the morals of an athlete. You should probably send me home right now; I might damage your career."

Brody hung up her coat and chuckled as he pulled her into a hug. She rested her head on his shoulder and he could feel some of her tension slip away as he rubbed her back. "I think I'm safe. Let's figure out some dinner, okay?"

"Sure. I'm not all that hungry, but you must be."

"Don't let him get you down, Ryan. It's not your fault. You said it yourself: Evan's an adult and this is his choice. There's no law that says he has to play professional basketball."

She scoffed. "Only Jim Bancroft's law."

"One that you—and Evan—are no longer subject to. Here, pick something." 

Ryan scanned the menu he handed her and opted for spring rolls and pad thai. Brody took that as a good sign, figuring otherwise she might not have chosen anything. Not that he minded taking care of her; that thought made him stop for a moment before calling in the order. 

He did like taking care of Ryan and couldn't remember having had that reaction to any woman before. He placed the order and shook his head as he ended the call; this was uncharted territory for him.

"It'll be here in about half an hour," Brody said as he put his phone away.

"Good. I'll probably be hungry by then."

He sat and put his arm around her. "You doing any better?"

She dropped her head back and thought for a minute. "I will be. I'm kind of all over the place. I'm mad at Dad and I'm mad at Evan for not telling me he told Dad. Do you know, I can't remember the last time Dad drove in to Arlington? That's how you know he was ticked."

"I thought it was the vein popping out of his forehead and the steam coming out of his ears."

"That, too."

"I doubt Evan would have hung you out to dry like that on purpose. But if it'll make you feel better, you can use my phone to call and yell at him."

Ryan rewarded him with a wan smile. "Thanks, but no."

"I want to say it'll be all right but I'm not sure it's the right thing to say."

She kissed him, then curled up against his side. "I guess there are different degrees of 'all right.' I'll deal with it."

They were quiet as they waited for the food, which showed up within the promised half an hour. Ryan started off nibbling at her pad thai, but soon ate with more enthusiasm and finished it off. 

After dinner, Ryan told Brody to go while she cleaned up. He shook his head and they put away the leftovers and dishes, then he pulled her back to the living room. 

"So what will we watch tonight? Food, superheroes or exploding buildings?" Ryan asked.

"I thought maybe we could listen to some music." Brody went over to his iPod dock and turned it on. "There, how's that?"

Ryan listened for a few beats and grinned. "Nancy Sinatra? Really?"

Brody flushed, turned around and tapped the buttons on the iPod. "What the fuck?" He gaped at the music player. "Bax, that son of a bitch! This is his iPod. I can't believe this!" He scanned through the songs. "He switched with me! There's all kinds of—of—I don't know, sixties and seventies easy listening crap! Jesus, that stupid piña colada song is on here!"

Ryan laughed while he sputtered in indignation. "I thought you were trying to suggest I dress like a go-go dancer with knee-high boots."

Brody stopped and grinned her. "I think you'd look fantastic in knee-high boots."

"Keep dreaming."

Brody put the offending iPod down, walked over and slid his arms around her. "Okay, you got me. Guess we'll do without. I just thought it might be better if you wanted to talk." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I think you're still upset."

"Yeah, I am. I'm trying not to be, but I am." Ryan let him pull her to the couch.

"I'd be upset too, you know. Your dad said some pretty lousy things."

"Yeah, he did. And he believes them." Ryan got up and started pacing the room. "He really does think that if Evan hasn't talked to me, then he'd declare for the draft. He cannot get it through his head that Evan might not want what he wants."

"I'm not defending him, but it is tough sometimes when parents expect one thing and get another."

"I'll give you that, but it's more. Dad wants this stuff because he didn't get it. It's like he thinks JT and Evan owe it to him. He thinks the world will end if Evan doesn't declare for the draft and of course it won't. Nothing will change." She slowed and stopped by a window, then turned to him.

"That's the thing, isn't it? It won't change. Whether or not Evan declares for the draft, Dad will get up and go to work, and Mom will make frozen chicken pot-pie for dinner, and I will never get any kind of approval from them. Nothing will change." She walked over and flopped on the couch. "Well, that's a hell of an epiphany."

Brody rubbed her arm. "I wish I could say you're wrong but I think you've got it. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, but thanks." She was quiet for a minute. "You know, I was so glad when you showed up. It was nice to know someone was on my side."

"Happy to help."

"I'm sorry to drag you into my family drama crap. You don't need that with the playoffs coming up."

"Don't worry about it. Speaking of family drama, I'm going to take an extra day on our road trip and visit with Rick. I want to see how he's doing. My parents say he seems okay but I can tell they're worried. And I want to see him; I haven't seen him in person since before he told me about the separation."

"That's really nice of you, to take the time." Ryan hugged him.

"It's not much but it's all I can do for now. Maybe I can even get him to come out here for a visit during the summer."

"What do you do during the off-season?" Ryan asked. "With my family, there never seemed to be an off-season."

"Usually I go back to Michigan, see family, keep up with training and all. I thought this year I'd spend more time in Virginia. With you." He wondered what she'd think of that. 

"Really?" Ryan looked both surprised and pleased. "That would be great."

"I thought so. I know it's been tough, with my games and your shows. I thought it'd be nice to have some time when things aren't so hectic. Maybe you could even come back to Michigan with me for a while."

"That sounds fantastic." Ryan hugged him again. "Thanks."

x-x-x-x

"Remember this place?" Rick clapped Brody on the shoulder as they entered the bar.

"I don't know—wait." Brody looked around. "Is this the place you took me when I turned twenty-one?"

Rick grinned. "The very same. Although I remember it as the place where you barfed in the parking lot when we left."

"Thanks for bringing that up."

"You're not going to do that again, are you?"

"No. Jesus." Brody aimed a punch at Rick's shoulder but his older brother easily dodged.

"Come on, man," said Rick. "Let's grab a table."

They wound their way back to a table in the corner. Rick waved at a couple of patrons as well as a couple of the waitresses. Brody wondered just how often his brother was here that the staff would recognize him. On the other hand, there weren't that many places to choose from. Rick gestured at a small round table and Brody nodded. As he took a seat, he looked around again.

"What do you think?" Rick asked. 

"I think . . . it looks like a bar." Brody grinned and picked up a menu. "And I wouldn't mind a drink. And a burger."

"They still don't have decent burgers in Washington?"

"Sure they do. Five Guys is the best. I'll have to take you there next time you come East. The kids would love it, too."

Rick gave a non-committal shrug and turned his attention to the menu. Brody ordered a cheeseburger with onion rings and a beer. Rick went for the bacon-cheeseburger and French fries.

The beers arrived first and Brody watched as his brother downed almost half his bottle in one go. Had he always done that?

"So, how's it going, Rick?"

His brother raised his eyebrows. "How's what going?"

"Everything. Come on, man. Mom's worried about you."

"When isn't she worried about all of us?"

"True, but right now I think you're at the top of the list. How are you?"

"I'm okay. I'm adjusting." Rick downed more of his beer. "How's everything with you? That was a tough game last night. Is your shoulder okay?"

"Oh, yeah, it's fine. You know how it is. You get hit enough you don't even notice some of them." Brody rolled his shoulder, pleased when he felt nothing more than a twinge. "Would have been better if we'd won." He frowned. "The ice there sucked; I caught a rough spot and fell. If I hadn't done that, the pass never would have gotten by me."

"You can't do everything. And isn't that what your defense is for?"

"Yeah, I know." Brody shrugged. "Anyway, we're not here to talk about me."

"What do you want to talk about, then? The Tigers are looking good." 

Brody was saved having to reply when the food arrived. He tried to organize his thoughts, buying more time by drowning his onion rings in ketchup. "Nice try, man. How are you doing, really?"

"What do you want me to say? I come home one day, the kids are at Amy's mom's, and Amy's telling me she thinks we need to separate. Now I'm living in a crappy apartment and scheduling time with my own kids." Rick signaled for another beer before he started on his burger.

"Sorry, Rick. That has to be rough."

"It sucks. Everything sucks right now. I have to talk to a fucking stranger about what happened in my marriage. Some goddamned shrink with papers up on the wall saying she knows how to fix marriages. And you know what?"

"What?"

"She's not even fucking married. Can you believe that shit? I guess that's fucking irony for you."

Brody waited as the waitress delivered Rick's beer. She asked Brody if he wanted another, but he declined and asked for water instead. As the waitress walked away, he turned his attention back to his brother. "So, ah, is the counseling helping?" 

"Are you kidding? The shrink's on her side, so of course everything is my fault. Amy says I'm not around enough and she's tried to work it out but it wasn't working. She says I'm not listening. Ha." He took another swig of his drink. "Like I ever do anything else; it's not like she ever stops talking."

Brody made a sympathetic noise and reached for his glass of water.

Rick went on. "Every day I'd come home and she was badgering me about where I was, what kept me so long. For Christ's sake, I'd go for drinks with the guys after work once in a while and she'd acted like I'd been gone for a month."

"She was probably just upset. Maybe tired, too."

"I mean, is it so much to ask that after a day of hauling heavy shit around, I grab a few beers before going home?" Rick shook his head, drained his beer, and indicated he wanted another.

Brody searched for a comment. "Well, she works hard."

Rick scoffed. "Yeah, works. Double-shifting all the damn time." He drank some more. "Like I don't make enough. I mean, yeah, I know I've had some slow periods, but what the hell—the economy sucks for everybody." Another drink. "So she works more and more. I didn't even want her working in the first place, you know?"

Brody looked up from his meal. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. What, I can't take care of my own damn family?" Rick drained his beer and looked for the waitress. He caught her attention, indicated he wanted more, and turned back to Brody. "She doesn't need to work."

"Okay, but—"

Rick waved a hand. "Yeah, I know. Women work all the time. Feminism, choices, blah fucking blah. She told me she always wanted to be a nurse and she was going to do it, so it's not like I kept her from doing that." The waitress dropped off the beer and Rick drained half the bottle before she'd gone ten feet away. 

"Anyway," Rick continued, "I figured once the kids were born, she'd stop. We talked about it; she said she thought she would like staying home with kids. Then when she was on maternity leave she told me she wanted to go back."

"Lots of women change their minds about that."

"I don't fucking care about 'lots of women.'" Rick glared. "She didn't have to go back to work. She could have stayed home with the kids and gone back later."

Brody chose his words with care. "Not every woman wants to stay home with kids."

"We talked about it and she said she would. Then she changed her mind. Now she's working overtime, talking about taking courses so she can earn more money. What, construction money's not good enough for her?" Rick snapped up another bottle.

"Maybe she just likes it."

"Yeah? Maybe she just likes talking to those doctors. Doctors make plenty of goddamn money."




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 09



Brody stared at him. "What the hell? You think she was cheating on you?"

Rick shrugged. "She probably thinks I'm too dumb to notice that she had lunch with Doctor What's-his-name five times in a month."

"No, man." Brody shook his head. "Amy wouldn't do that. I just can't see it."

"Oh yeah?" Rick raised an eyebrow and gestured at Brody with his beer. "You telling me you never worry about Ryan and all those guys in the other bands?"

"No." Brody hadn't given it a thought.

Rick threw his head back and laughed. "Brody, you are . . . look, think about it." He leaned across the table. "You can honestly sit there and tell me you don't give a shit about Ryan going on tour, surrounded by—by—all those guitar players?"

Brody relaxed back in his chair. "She's been working with Nate and Mitch for years and as far as I know, nothing ever happened. Why should I suddenly start worrying about guys she hasn't even met?"

Rick gave a mirthless laugh. "'As far as I know.' Yeah, that's what I thought. When Amy was looking for a job I figured, hell, she's been in school with men, what's the difference if she's working with them?" He finished his beer, signaled for another. "Let me tell you, man, there's a difference."

After the next beer arrived, Rick challenged Brody to a game of pool. Relieved not to have to continue the conversation, he accepted. The rest of the night was uneventful, although Rick drank at a rate that surprised Brody, especially since his brother had to work in the morning. When he made a comment, Rick waved it off and said he had it under control. 

Back at his hotel, Brody tried to put it all aside. He was beat from the game and from the extra travel, and he had an early flight the following day. Even so, sleep didn't come easy.

At last, on the plane, Brody let himself think about his time with Rick. He hadn't seen that side of his brother before and he didn't much like it. Presumably it was exacerbated by the beer—Rick had downed six or seven to Brody's eventual two—but one thing he knew about alcohol was that it didn't give a person new personality traits. It just magnified ones that were already there, and in Rick's case it appeared anger and bitterness were prominent. 

That was why Rick had said those things about Ryan, Brody decided. He was just projecting. Brody supposed it was a risk that Ryan might meet someone in the music business, but he didn't worry about things that hadn't happened. What was the point? Besides, things with Ryan were good.

On the other hand, everyone had thought things were good between Rick and Amy, too. Including Rick.

He shook his head. No sense worrying about things over which he had no control. Rick was going through a tough time and that was making him pessimistic, but it didn't mean Brody had to be.

x-x-x-x

Ryan ignored her cell phone and focused her attention on sorting through clothes to pack for the tour and clothes to store. 

"Hey, you going to answer that?" Lara stood in the doorway.

"Nope. It's my mom. I know why she's calling and I'm done with being yelled at."

"Ah, I see." Lara surveyed Ryan's room for a few minutes before observing, "This place is a mess." 

Clothes, papers and general stuff littered the bed and floor. Ryan snorted. "Your room is no better. I saw it myself."

"True. Moving sucks." Lara came in and sat on the floor.

"At least you have a place to put your stuff. You're moving in with Trout. I feel like I'm doing half a move. I get to sort and pack but I don't have an end point." Ryan riffled through some papers and dropped them in a trash can.

"I talked to Annette the other day, she said she might know somebody. She'll text you."

"Thanks. I haven't had time to do much looking around."

"Any more news on Evan?"

Ryan sat on the edge of her bed and dropped some more papers to the floor. "Nothing new. Dad's still pissed, but give Evan some credit—he's not budging. At least since Evan has a scholarship, Dad can't threaten to pull the plug on tuition."

"That's good. Has your dad left you alone?"

"Yeah. JT called and started in on me, but I hung up on him."

"You go, girl!" Lara grinned.

Ryan gave her a wry grin. "Thanks." 

"Hey, listen, speaking of moving, Trout has a friend who wanted the sofa. He was going to come around today."

"Oooooh, cool! We can have a pajama party in the living room! With sleeping bags and everything!" Ryan clasped her hands together in mock excitement.

"Oh, please. It's only a couple of weeks. That must be him." Lara jumped up when someone knocked on the door.

Ryan followed her out and watched as Trout came in with another guy. It took them a few minutes to wiggle it out the door, and she stared at the empty space after they'd left. "How did all that stuff get under the couch?"

"I'm not sure," Lara said. 

"Hey, I wondered where that went." Ryan knelt down and picked up a book.

Lara joined her. "You are a slob. Look at all these. What, did you corner the market on Combos?" 

"I'm not the only one," Ryan said. "I do believe all of these M&Ms are yours. I'm going to get a trash bag." She went into the kitchen and came back, shaking the plastic bag open. 

"Oh, my God, what is that?" Lara pointed at an unidentifiable blob on the floor. "I don't want to touch it." 

Ryan looked around and finding nothing suiting her purpose, sighed and touched the thing with her foot. It flipped over, making Lara jump. Ryan snickered. "I think it's dead."

"Well, I'm not picking it up."

"Oh, for God's sake." Ryan used the bag to protect her hand and picked it up. As it fell in, she noted, "At least it didn't stick to the rug."

"That's so gross. God, let's finish this and get the vacuum cleaner."

After the area was clean, Lara stared at the space. "Wow, it looks a lot bigger in here."

"I know. It's weird, isn't it?" Ryan turned to Lara. "I mean, we haven't really been here all that long, but I'm going to miss this place."

"Yeah, me too. Not surprising, I guess. It's the first place we had on our own. We found it, we paid for it, we furnished it." Lara held her hands out and then dropped them. "And now we are moving on to a new stage of our lives. Naturally there will be feelings of loss and perhaps even a sense of mourning."

Ryan stared at her friend, then burst out laughing. "Those psych courses finally came in handy, huh?"

Lara grinned. "Well, I read it in an advice column, but yeah, I think we covered it in a class somewhere."

"You have better recall than I do." Ryan shook her head. "Okay, I'm going back to try and get organized."

"Yeah, me too. I'll grab you for some dinner later, okay?"

"Sure."

Ryan went back into her room and wanted to walk out again when confronted by the piles on her bed and floor and other flat surfaces. She considered procrastinating by returning her mother's earlier call, but sorting and packing was far easier than dealing with her parents.

There was something to what Lara had said. After college, she and Lara had shared a house with a couple of other women, but there had been personality conflicts and more drama than Ryan cared for. When a couple of boyfriends turned into de facto residents, Ryan and Lara decided they'd had enough and had found their current apartment.

She remembered how they'd walked in and been a little overwhelmed. The apartment wasn't huge but it had seemed so with the eggshell walls, beige carpeting and lack of furniture. 

It had seemed the best of both worlds. With separate bedrooms, they would each have a place to go to be alone but they'd be close enough to talk or work on songs. For a couple of years now, it had worked out perfectly.

Ryan packed some winter clothes into a box. Lara's mom had offered to store some of her things, and Ryan had gratefully taken the offer. She didn't want to impose too much, but she couldn't toss everything, and storage units could get expensive.

She flipped on her iPod and laughed when David Bowie's "Changes" came on. She couldn't even remember when she'd added that, but if only for the title it felt appropriate.

Ryan mused that her own life had been full of changes the last few months. A boyfriend, getting rid of Jason, and now the tour; she hoped things would slow down for a bit so she could adjust to it all. She smiled at the thought of Brody—that was one thing that had taken less adjustment than she'd feared. 

She checked the time and wondered when he might call. He'd gotten back from Michigan the day before, but the team had a busy schedule as the season wound down. They'd talked on the phone but hadn't been able to meet up yet. Busy, busy, busy, Ryan thought. She stopped in the middle of folding a shirt then went into Lara's room.

"Hey. What's up?" Lara stuffed a teddy bear into a bag.

Ryan leaned against the dresser. "I was just thinking. It's going to be really weird when we go on tour and I won't see Brody."

Lara looked at her, puzzled. "Okay. I mean, yes, but what exactly is weird about it?"

"I'm not sure." Ryan frowned. "It's just . . . so far, he's been doing the traveling. And that's fine. Sometimes he's gone a couple of days, sometimes a couple of weeks. But there's always a break for home games and we get to see each other. But we're leaving for what, six weeks, right? That's a long time not to see someone."

"I haven't seen my dad for six months," Lara offered. "It's worked for us."

Ryan gave a half-smile and shook her head. Lara and her father were barely civil to each other. "You know what I mean. You won't see Trout, either. Aren't you—I don't know—worried about it?" 

"A little, maybe." Lara sat on her bed. "I'll miss him, sure. And he'll miss me if he knows what's good for him."

That got a laugh out of Ryan. "I'm sure he will; he's a bright guy." She quieted again. "This whole thing is just weird for me."

"Well, I did say before, it's really cute to watch you deal with a real relationship." Lara snickered and dodged when Ryan threw a stuffed cat at her. "Your aim sucks."

"You're not supposed to move." Ryan reached out to pick up a toy horse. "Why do you have all these things anyway?"

"When I was little I wanted to be a veterinarian. Then I got grossed out in biology class. Stuffed animals filled the gap nicely. And Trout got some for me."

"Yeah, it's nice when they do that, isn't it?" Ryan turned the horse over in her hands, staring at it but not seeing it.

"When who does what?"

"When Trout does something just because he knows you like it. Like Brody, when he got me that rabbit."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, he got you a rabbit?" Lara widened her eyes.

Ryan threw the horse at her. "Get your mind out of the gutter. The purple rabbit I showed you. He remembered that I said rabbit feet creeped me out, and so he said this one was lucky because it had all its feet. It was sweet."

"Yes, it was. Ryan, you have to relax. Going on tour isn't the end of anything. It's supposed to be a beginning, a fun time, and hopefully we'll make some progress, maybe get onto a bigger tour or even get in with a record company."

"I know, I know. And I want that, believe me. It's just . . . well, like I told Brody, anytime I thought about stuff like this before, I never had a boyfriend in the picture."

"Things change, Ryan. You just need to re-do the picture. Insert the boyfriend in, you know, like a mental version of Photoshop."

Ryan smiled and nodded, still trying to work through her thoughts. It couldn't be easy for Lara to go away from Trout, but they'd been together for a long time and helped each other through stressful times. There was security there. Ryan and Brody didn't have that kind of history. Slowly, she got her concerns out to Lara.

Lara brushed her hair back and thought before responding. "He's still been there for you, Ryan. Even before you started going out, like the day of the GW show last fall. That's a good kind of history. I know I've kidded around a lot, but I think you've been pretty relaxed about the whole thing, and you shouldn't change now."

"It's just—he does a lot for me. I'm not sure what I do for him. So if I'm out of the way for a while, maybe he'll decide things are easier without me."

"I don't think so." Lara gave her a reassuring smile. "Ryan, I've seen you guys together. Brody cares about you and I don't think he'll suddenly decide things are better just because you're not around to eat his food."

Ryan gave a wistful sigh. "I will miss the food."

"You know, you should be talking to him about all this, not me."

"I know but it's easier with you. I know you won't break up with me." Ryan laughed and it was her turn to dodge a flying stuffed animal. "Your aim is worse than mine."

Lara pretended to pout but relented and smiled. "Really, you're worrying too much. And you should talk to Brody. Maybe he's worried about this stuff, too."

"He's probably too wrapped up with the playoffs to worry too much."

"Oh, no. Don't do that." Lara shook her head. "That's the experience with your dad and all talking. Don't bring all that in or use it to judge things with Brody. You won't know what he's worried about until you ask him."

Ryan rested her chin in her hand. "What column did you read that in? Maybe I should read it, too."

x-x-x-x

Brody opened the door and laughed when Ryan threw her arms around him. "I missed you, too." He hugged her with one arm while closing the door with the other.

Ryan looked up at him. "I can't believe we live in the same building and haven't seen each other in almost a week."

"Yeah, I know. Crazy." He put his other arm around her and leaned down to kiss her. She laughed against his lips when he straightened up, lifting her so that she had to stand on tiptoe. He grinned and they went into the living room.

"So how goes the packing?" he asked. "Finished yet?"

"I guess. I'm at the point where I'm so tired of it I'm just throwing things in boxes or bags. I've tried to throw away as much as I could, but—" She held her hands out in a helpless gesture. "I'm lucky Lara's mom will keep stuff for me. Oh, and Annette put me in touch with someone who needs a roommate, so that's one less thing to worry about. I hope."

"Would that be in Arlington?"

"No, in D.C., actually." Ryan looked excited. "That could be fun. The place would be near Adams Morgan, so there's lots of stuff there: clubs, restaurants, everything. I like it here but I like the idea of living in the city, too."

"Is that a safe neighborhood?" Brody liked the District well enough, but was only familiar with a few spots. He knew that like any city, D.C. had its share of higher-crime areas and he wanted Ryan in a decent place. It hit him that he was disappointed at the news. Living in the District mean that she wouldn't be living in the building; she wouldn't be a few steps away. He shoved the thought away for later.

"Oh, yeah." Ryan laughed. "With the—what is it—the gentrification and all, Adams Morgan has become quite the happening place to live. You'll love it; there's a ton of ethnic restaurants there."

"Hey, I do like that. Speaking of which, let's eat." He stood and held out a hand for her. She took it and they went into the kitchen.

"Wow, that's great." Ryan took another bite. "What is it, aside from delicious?"

Brody smiled. "It's my mom's patented chicken pot-pie recipe."

"It's amazing. I've only ever had this frozen."

"Frozen is never better than stuff made from scratch."

"It is if my mom cooks it." Ryan rolled her eyes. "I don't think she's ever made anything that didn't involve at least two elements that were pre-made or pre-mixed."

"You poor thing." Brody laughed. "How'd you ever survive?"

"Sheer luck."

They ate in silence for a while and then she helped him clear the table. "Do you know, the last time I was in Nate's apartment, I don't think he had a single clean plate. The ones by the sink looked like a science experiment." She pretended to shudder. "One had tentacles, I swear."

"And you solve that by never eating off of plates, right? Just out of bags and boxes?"

"No, that's not true." She gave him a fake glare. "I have those plastic plates you can reuse for a while."

"Oh, that's so much better." Brody shook his head.

"Well it's better than starting new life forms in the sink. I always tell Nate he should have majored in biology. He could bring down governments with some of the stuff he's got growing in his apartment."

"Doesn't he have a roommate?" Brody rinsed the plates and handed them to Ryan to place in the dishwasher.

"No, Nate's always preferred to live alone. He had one at the start, after high school for a while, but ever since that guy left, Nate's had his own place. Sometimes his girlfriends have tried to clean things up, but it doesn't work." Ryan shook her head. "So either that stuff is a commitment-avoidance mechanism or Nate is a slob of pathological proportion. On the other hand, he's an excellent bassist and guitarist, so we figure it evens out."

Brody laughed. "I see."

"Plus we refuse to eat anything that comes out of his kitchen. We love Nate but we can't ignore our survival instincts."

"You know, I was curious, did any of you guys ever date? Each other, I mean?" Brody felt odd asking, but it had been on his mind ever since talking with Rick.

"What? Us? You mean, like me go out with Nate or Mitch?" Ryan stared at him.

"Well, yeah. I was just wondering, that's all."

Ryan laughed. "The answer is a total 'no.' Lara was already seeing Trout when we all got together. I think Nate had a girlfriend and Mitch had just broken up with one. So there was no interest in dating on anyone's part. Besides, we said at the start that we didn't want to be the next Fleetwood Mac. I guess we were lucky; lots of groups have those kind of problems."

"You're not lucky, you're good. That's why you'll make it."

"Hey, thanks." Ryan looked surprised and pleased and stepped around the dishwasher to hug him. "I appreciate that."

"Yeah, well, it's just true." Brody kissed her forehead before closing the dishwasher. He felt guilty for even asking and mad that he'd let Rick's drunken statements make him feel insecure. "Come on, there has to be a better way to spend the evening than doing dishes." He led her back to the living room.

"I did go out with a couple of guys in other bands," Ryan said. "It never worked out, though."

"Why not? Not that I'm complaining." 

Ryan paused as she considered the question. "Well, I guess they thought I was too serious about my career, and I should have been more serious about theirs. Like it was cool that I was in a band, so long as nothing happened. But if I wanted to work with Imaginary Grace on something, or we had a gig, and it interfered with whatever was going on with whoever I was seeing—" She rolled her eyes. "Then I was this horrible, unsupportive bitch."

"How dare you have your own goals," Brody said with mock disgust.

"Oh, don't you start."

Brody rubbed her arm. "You realize I'm kidding, right?"

"I know." She smiled and leaned in to kiss him. "That's why I stick around."

"So, any other skeletons in the dating closet?"

"No. I didn't date a whole lot and basically they thought it was neat that I was in a band until they realized I was serious about it." She kissed him again. "How about you? Any potential stalkers in your past?"

"Not so far. I never stuck around long enough to piss anyone off to that extent." Brody smiled but inside, he cringed at his words.

"So you're the love 'em and leave 'em type?"

"What? Oh, no. I mean, it never got that far, either. I mean—that's not what I—" He stumbled over the words and stopped when he saw Ryan's lips twitching. He huffed out a breath. "That's a female thing, isn't it? Setting little traps like that."

She chuckled. "You're giving me too much credit. I'm not devious enough."




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 09



"That's good. Look, all I mean is, things never got like they are between us when I dated before. But I was always honest with people, okay?"

Ryan curled her legs under her. "Okay. So what brought all this on, anyway? I mean, I don't mind talking about it but I never had the impression you cared."

"I don't. I mean, I can't say I haven't wondered but generally I figure it doesn't matter, right? But then I was talking with Rick and—well, he's not real up on relationships right now. He thinks his wife either cheated on him, or would have."

"Wow." Ryan gave a low whistle. "That's pretty serious."

"Yeah, I know." Brody dropped his head back. "I know I have to take it with a grain of salt; I know he's pissed. Even so, I have to say I never saw him like that before."

"Well, he's never been through anything like this, right?"

"No. Not that I know of, at least. Still, he just said stuff and some of it stuck in my head, and it got me thinking."

"About whether I dated Nate or Mitch?"

"Sort of. Anyway, never mind. It's not important." He put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. "What's important is that we're here and you're leaving soon and I have playoffs to worry about."

"Yeah." Ryan's smile was half-sad. "I was thinking about that, too. It'll be weird not to see each other for so long. I, ah, I was afraid you'd find things easier without me."

Brody smiled and kissed her. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would that be?"

"For one thing, you wouldn't have to worry about what I eat, or cook for me, or—"

He cut her off with another kiss, more aggressive this time. "Hey, I like doing those things. I'll miss doing them."

"Really?"

"Really. Now, let's say we've had enough of discussing what might go wrong and start working on some of the stuff that goes right?" He snuck a hand under her shirt.

Ryan yelped a laugh as he tickled her side, then sighed and closed her eyes as he stroked her back. She leaned forward and kissed his neck, smiling as he groaned. "Yeah, let's work on that."

x-x-x-x

Two weeks later, Ryan sat at the bar of a club in Philadelphia, hoping she wouldn't be sick. She ran her fingers over the table in front of her, pretending to play a scale on the keyboards. She hoped the familiar motions would calm her down.

"You okay, Ry?" Nate looked up from his smartphone where he was checking baseball scores. "You're looking a little off."

"I'm okay." She ran another imaginary scale. "Just a little wired."

Mitch laughed. "That's good. I was afraid you might be nervous. You're not allowed, you know; our fearless leader can't be nervous."

Lara glanced over as she pulled a brush through her hair. "You should have eaten something today."

"I ate something. Somewhere. I forget. You made me."

Nate checked his watch. "Come on guys, almost time."

"That's my line," Ryan joked. 

"Yeah, well, I figure one of us can take the pressure of you once in a while." Nate grinned and nudged her arm.

"Thanks." Ryan tried to relax. She couldn't tell them how she was having an attack of stage fright. It had dawned her with sudden clarity that they'd never been here before—this crowd hadn't heard of them; it wouldn't be like playing in D.C., Virginia or Maryland.

"Oh, hey, Ryan." Nate held out his phone. "Check this out."

"What?" She blinked and tried to make sense of the screen.

"The Caps won. Brody got a goal and an assist."

She realized Nate had called up a box score detailing the Caps' victory over the New Jersey Devils. "Oh. Wow. Fantastic." A little tension drained away. She'd been worried about the game—losing would have put the Caps down 2-1 in the best-of-seven series—but she'd forgotten in getting ready for the show. She nodded and smiled. "Good. One less thing to worry about."

"Okay, I'm ready!" Lara looked at the others. "Everybody ready?"

"You bet," Nate and Mitch answered together.

Ryan was about to answer when her phone chirped. She touched the screen and saw a text message from Brody. Break a leg, rock star.

"Ryan, you ready?" Nate asked. The others looked at her.

She grinned. "Absolutely. Come on, let's show them who we are."



Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 10



Brody hung by the blue line, waiting for his defensemen to get to the puck out of the corner. Time slowed as players jabbed at the puck, trying to free it from under skates and sticks. After what seemed like forever, the puck dribbled free and Bax snagged it and started up the ice.

Brody followed him and saw Tolya joining the rush. They crossed the red line and Bax dumped the puck down the ice. Brody put on a burst of speed and went after it, colliding with a Devil player along the boards. He grunted and jerked away, focused on getting the puck. 

Bax muscled his way into the scrum by the boards and Brody was glad for the help. Tolya waited near the goal line, ready to get to open space if he could. Brody gritted his teeth and took advantage of a Devil losing his footing to grab the puck and send it to his winger. Tolya backed up and skated behind the goal as his teammates got into position, Brody moving to the net and Bax going to the boards for the cycle.

Brody planted himself in front of the crease, ignoring the player behind him who harassed him with cross-checks from behind. Tolya got the puck to Bax, who sent it to Mark up at the blue line. Mark played catch with his defense partner and ripped a shot on net when he got it back. The goalie blocked it but couldn't control the rebound and Brody jumped on it. 

He flipped a shot towards the net and there was chaos as everyone crowded the goal crease. He dug for the puck, desperate to get it in the net. The ref's whistle shrilled and Brody rounded on the Devil behind him; in short order he was joined by his teammates. There was a lot of pushing and shoving but no fights as the linesmen got everyone separated.

He went back to the bench and grabbed a proffered drink, gulped it down and wiped his face with a towel. Whatever music they were playing seeped into his thoughts and he wondered how Ryan was doing. They'd talked or at least texted every day since she'd left. Despite that and how busy they both were, he missed her more than he expected he would. He shook his head; no time to think about that now.

The Caps were protecting a one-goal lead in game four of the best-of-seven series and half the game remained. A win would put the Caps up three games to one and put the pressure on New Jersey to avoid elimination. Don't think so far ahead, he chastised himself; looking past the game at hand was a sure way to lose it.

Two hours later, he was boarding the bus to go home, exchanging back slaps and high fives with his teammates. An empty-net goal had sealed the Caps' victory, giving them the chance to close out the series in two days at home. He was psyched and couldn't wait to call Ryan.

He was about to dial her number when he realized he didn't know where she was. In the middle of a show? About to go on stage? Traveling to the next gig? The hell with it, he thought, and dialed. If she was busy, she wouldn't answer. As he expected, he was shunted to her voice mail.

"Hey, Ryan. It's me. We won tonight and, well, I just wanted to let you know. Call me later. I'll probably be up late." He disconnected and stared out the window, lost in thought.

"What's the matter, Langer?" Bax dropped into the seat next to him. "You look like you forgot something."

"What? No. Just zoned out for a second." Brody put his phone away.

Bax settled back and closed his eyes. "God, it will be good to get back. I feel like I could sleep for a week."

"Sucks to get old, huh?" Brody snickered.

"You'll find out soon enough. You're what, almost twenty-seven? Athletes start slowing down as they approach thirty, you know."

"Speaking from personal experience, right?" He laughed at Bax's glare.

"Fuck you. Anyway, how's Ryan? Tell her thanks again for the songs. I sent them to my kids and they love them. They're hoping the band will play somewhere nearby."

"I will. I guess she's doing okay. I left her a message but haven't talked to her for a day or so. This tour thing really keeps her on the move."

"She enjoying it?"

"Last I checked, yeah. She sounded a little overwhelmed, and said she panicked a little before the first show, but I think she'll be fine." He smiled. "I honestly can't picture her doing anything else."

Bax laughed. "Listen to you. When did you turn into such a sap?"

"You're jealous. I have the gorgeous rock star girlfriend, and you're just old."

"Maybe, but I'm the one who told you that you were a goner over Ryan, and I was right. With age comes wisdom." Bax winced. "And sore knees."

Brody could only nod in agreement on that point. Despite everyone's elation over the win, more than one Capital was nursing a few bruises. As always, defensive play picked up in the playoffs and Brody felt like he'd blocked more shots in the last few games than he had in the last month of the regular season. It'd be worth it to advance in the playoffs. 

Bax closed his eyes again and Brody relaxed into his seat as he stared out the window. There wasn't much to see at this hour, but in his experience it didn't matter whether it was daytime or not. The New Jersey Turnpike was one of the most god-awful boring roads he'd ever been on in his life. The scenery never seemed to change; it was like riding on the world's biggest treadmill.

He wondered where Ryan was and how the tour was going. She'd told him she was over her stage fright, but he suspected she was just ignoring it and the thought made him smile. People didn't call her the "fearless leader" for nothing, but he knew she had her anxieties.

He imagined that it wasn't too different from when he'd started in the NHL. He remembered how excited and nervous he'd been as he'd at last put on the sweater for an NHL team, and it was hard to say now which emotion had been stronger. All he could recall now was the feeling that he'd had to succeed, had to bring his play up so that he could stay at this level. Going back to his minor league team would feel like failure. Somehow, he'd done it.

He was willing to bet that Ryan felt that way. Going back to the 9:30 Club wouldn't be an awful thing, but he knew she wanted more and he hoped she got it.

It was going on two a.m. when he let himself into his apartment. The euphoria of winning the game had faded in the last hour and all he wanted was to flop into bed. He rubbed a hand over his face as he headed back to his bedroom, disappointed that Ryan hadn't called. Just as he finished brushing his teeth, the phone rang.

"Hello."

"Hi, Brody, it's me. I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"Hey, Ryan. No, I'm still up. Just getting ready for bed."

"I won't keep you, then. I got your message and wanted to call back. I know it's late, but you said you'd be up, so I thought I'd try." She sounded tense and he had to laugh.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I mean, I am a little wired but I think it's just the weird hours catching up with me." She paused and he heard her take a deep breath. "Okay, that's better. How's everything?"

"Great." He sat on the bed and kicked off his shoes before lying back with a groan. "We won."

"I know! I'm so glad. I didn't get to see anything but Nate keeps me updated. He's always shoving the box scores in my face. Wow, one more and you take the series. That's great."

Brody chuckled at the image she'd put in his head. "Yeah, one more. I'm not trying to look too far ahead but I've got a good feeling about this."

"You guys can do it."

"Thanks. The next game is day after tomorrow, if you get a chance to watch."

"I'll try, I will, but I don't know. This has just been so crazy. I mean, we've been doing some promotional stuff in addition to the shows and with all the driving, sometimes I don't even know where I am."

"Do you know where you are now?"

"Yeah, I'm in the lobby of a Motel 6, I think."

"You think? And why aren't you in a room?"

"All these places look alike. Lara's in the room talking to Trout and I didn't feel like talking to you in the bathroom. First rule of touring: there is almost no privacy."

"Pity. I was hoping one night we might work in a little phone sex."

"Brody!" 

He couldn't hold back a laugh as he imagined her going red in the face. "What?"

"Jesus! I'm not going to do that! Not in a hotel lobby!"

"Why not? How many other people are there at this hour? Who'd even notice?"

"I don't care!"

"Okay, well, then next time you switch and Lara talks in the lobby. Then you'll be in the room, alone, and we can talk about . . . oh, I know, that little sound you make when I—"

"Knock it off, Brody."

"Why? No one's here. I'm all alone and—"

"You may be but I'm not! Good God!" 

He cracked up. "Relax, Ryan," he said when he could talk again. "I'm kidding. God, I thought all you musicians were supposed to be depraved and into all kinds of sexual things."

"Yeah, well, think again." She huffed out a breath. "Keep that up and you won't get any sex at all when I get back."

"How about if I let you spank me as punishment?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ryan tried to sound angry but she was laughing, too.

"Nothing, nothing. I just miss you, that's all."

She sighed. "I miss you, too. I'm having fun, but I miss you."

"How are you doing, seriously? Over the stage fright?"

"Pretty much. Oh, Brody, I really can't tell you—this is so great. I mean, even the being nervous part is okay because we get to do this. We're jelling, I guess, more than we ever have before. Lara's writing songs, I have ideas for the music, Nate and Mitch are just terrific. It's—I don't know—it's just amazing. And when we go out there, it almost doesn't matter if the audience likes us." She laughed. "But so far, they do."

He smiled at how happy she sounded. "Of course they do. What's not to like?"

"Thanks." 

"So, where are you?"

"We are in Scranton, PA, and after that we go into New York. Then Connecticut."

"Are you eating?"

"Not right now. It's too late."

"Ryan."

She snickered. "Yes, I eat. I promise. The others make me. Did you bribe them or something? I swear I can't go an hour without one of them asking if I ate or pushing food at me."

"Lara and I may have had a talk at some point. Other than that, I did nothing."

"I knew it. It's a conspiracy."

"Yes. It's a conspiracy to make sure you don't faint from hunger in the middle of a set."

"You and Lara make a great mom, you know that?" 

"Speaking of which, any word from your family?" He couldn't help it; he kept hoping that someone, perhaps Ryan's mom, would realize that supporting Ryan was better than losing her. He knew it was unlikely, especially after the fight Ryan had had with Jim, but he still had a hard time accepting that her family would just turn her out.

"I talked to Evan the other day. He's moving into a group house as soon as his finals are done. He tried talking to Dad, but there's just no middle ground."

"I'm sorry. He'll be fine, though. He's got a sister to look up to for an example, after all."

"Thanks, Brody. I feel bad, but there's not much I can do about it. Dad may come around for Evan after a while."

"I hope so. Listen, you should get some sleep."

"You should, too. You must be beat after the game. Hey, you didn't get hurt, did you?"

"A few bruises, but no worse than anyone else and nothing some sleep won't cure."

"All right." She paused. "I do worry about you, you know. I may not be the biggest sports fan but I know about the risks."

"You're just a big softie, aren't you?"

She laughed. "Yeah, but don't let it get around."

"Okay. Take it easy, rock star. Get some sleep."

"You, too."

"'Night, Ryan."

"'Night."

He snapped the phone shut and stared at the ceiling. He was glad to talk to her, but sometimes all the phone calls did was remind him that she was a few hundred miles away. With a grunt, he sat up and stripped out of the rest of his clothes, then lay back down and turned out the light. A few hundred miles away was not as good as next to him.

x-x-x-x

Ryan downed the soda she'd ordered at the bar. They were in Hartford, Connecticut. She felt the stage fright creeping up but ignored it. Once they'd gotten through the first couple of shows, her anxiety had eased a lot, even if it hadn't faded entirely. Word was getting around about the tour as well. Old fans and new were posting to the band's Facebook page which was like free publicity as people reviewed past shows and noted upcoming ones.

They'd all been surprised and excited to see links to some of their performances show up on the page as well. Most of the videos uploaded were lacking in either sound or video quality, but a few were crystal clear in sound and focus. Their manager, Jocelyn, was working hard to get them some attention. Ryan had no idea what would happen, but was enjoying the ride.

"Hey, Ryan, you okay?" Lara slid onto the stool next to her. She touched edge of the bar and made a face. "Ew," she said under her breath. "If my mom was here, she'd go at this place with bleach. And then a flamethrower."

Ryan tried to smother a laugh. "No kidding. So where were you?"

"Stepped outside to call Trout."

"How is he?"

"He's good." Lara smiled. "He's been working on our website. I feel bad it got kind of lost in the shuffle with other things, but he's got the time now."

"That's great. Tell him we appreciate it."

"I will. How's Brody?"

"Good. I haven't talked to him in a few days. Since the Scranton show, I guess. I think he's playing tonight, I'll have to check."

"Everything okay?" Lara asked.

"Yeah, sure." Ryan was puzzled. "Why?"

"I don't know. You guys were talking and all almost every day but it seems like it kind of fell off. You haven't said anything but I just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong."

"Yeah, everything's fine." Ryan blinked. "Wait, you think something's wrong because we're not talking every day?"

"No, no. I was just wondering."

"Well, I mean, it's fine. I think. It's just that we've been busy and so has he. With the games and the shows the same nights sometimes it's hard to find time to talk. Plus we're traveling during the day and he's practicing and—"

"Ryan, Ryan, relax." Lara patted her friend's shoulder. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. There's no right or wrong time to talk to him. Why don't you call him now?"

Ryan checked the time. "He's probably playing now." She turned to Nate. "Hey, Nate, do the Caps play tonight?"

"Nope. Tomorrow." He looked up from his phone. "I was just checking baseball. The Nats are really hot right now."

"Good to know. Thanks," Ryan said.

"Do you want to call Brody now?" Lara asked. "We're not going on for another half an hour or so."

"I'll try later or tomorrow." Ryan stood and stretched. "It's late and if he's not playing, he's probably sleeping. I don't want to bother him."

"Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes, I just need to fix my hair and all."

"You look fine." Ryan smiled.

"Thanks, but you know I can't go on without taking one last look and brushing my hair."

Ryan laughed as Lara walked away. It was true; Lara had her pre-show routine just as Ryan and the others did. Ryan always did a last-minute check on her computer and stuck two or three guitar picks to her mike stand. Lara insisted on checking herself in a mirror. Since she was the singer, and out front more than the others, Ryan couldn't hold it against her.

She was about to ask for another Coke but opted for a Sprite instead. The last thing she needed was more caffeine.

The talk with Lara had her wondering: was everything okay with Brody? As far as Ryan knew it was. She did miss talking to him but the last few days had been pretty hectic with all the traveling. Brody had sent a couple of texts, and she'd replied, but he was busy, too. She didn't expect to talk to him every day. Wasn't it a good sign, she thought, that they didn't have to talk all the time? Or did it mean that instead of absence making the heart grow fonder, it just made things fade away?

"Crap," she said out loud. "I don't need to be thinking about this before a show."

"Thinking about what?" Mitch asked.

"Yeah, what?" Nate looked up from his sports scores.

Ryan turned to them. "You really want to know?"

Mitch shrugged. "Sure. We need everybody on the same page. If something's bothering you, either let us know or put it away until after. So what is it?"

What the hell, Ryan figured. They were guys; she'd throw it out to them. "I can't decide if I'm calling Brody enough. What do you think? Should I be calling him every day? Or is it okay to go a few days between calls? I don't want to drive him crazy, you know? But I've never done the long-distance thing. Is there a set number of days between calls or what? What do guys think about that?"

Mitch stared at her, then scoffed. "You have got to be kidding. You're asking me that before a show? And expecting an answer?"

She laughed. "You said you wanted to know." She hadn't expected an answer—a useful one—from either of them.

"It was rhetorical," Nate said. "You know, like when people ask 'how are you?' We didn't think you'd really tell us."

Ryan laughed. "Yes, well, my mistake. Come on, guys. Lara's back; let's get ready."

Nate nodded and scanned the club. "Yeah, let's do this. I hate to say it, but I kind of want to get it over with."

Ryan agreed, although she said nothing as they went to get their instruments. This club had a rougher feeling than the others they'd been to so far. While she wanted the show to be successful, she would be glad when they were done and back at the hotel.

The show started well enough with "My Last Mistake" the first number—as usual—and they segued into the next song with no break. The crowd was polite, if not enthusiastic, but that was better than active booing, she thought. 

Two songs later, she changed her mind: she would have preferred booing. There was some drunk guy with a bunch of friends yelling out whatever came to mind, alcohol having removed any brain-to-mouth filter. She rolled her eyes as she heard him yell out "Free-biirrrrd!" As if no one had ever done that in the past forty years. 

Ryan wondered if it was the same group that went to every bar, or if there was some kind of franchise where clubs or bars could order the Annoying Drunk Customers. At last Freebird Guy managed to shout out something coherent.

"Hey, babe! You with the mike! Let's see your tits!"

Lara and Ryan exchanged glances and Ryan knew what her friend was thinking. They'd had their share of this as they'd been learning the performing ropes at various college gigs. At first Ryan had been confrontational about it, which sometimes was the best course. This didn't seem like one of those times.

Lara grabbed the mike and smiled, waving a finger back and forth in the air. "Sorry, guys, no wardrobe malfunctions tonight. Janet Jackson is not in the house." That got some laughter, whistles and applause and Ryan let out a quiet sigh of relief, but it wasn't quite over.

"Hey, you with the guitar! Come on, baby! Show us whatcha got!"

Ryan smiled and decided to indulge herself. "You want to see what I got?" In response to the shouting and whistles, she stepped back and let loose with a short but searing guitar solo. She slammed into it and her fingers raced over the neck of the guitar, then finished with an abrupt chord. There was more cheering and she turned to Mitch and signaled him to count them into the next song.

Nate stepped over to Ryan afterwards. "Jesus, I can't wait until this is over," he said.

She grinned. "Jealous no one's hitting on you?"

He scoffed. "Are you kidding? I'm out of their league and they know it."

Ryan snorted and then nodded at Mitch. She was glad they'd defused the tension, but she wanted to leave, too, and the only way to do that was to finish the set.




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 10



x-x-x-x

Brody listened to Ryan, and then sputtered. "He said what? Are you serious?"

"Oh, yeah. He was an asshole." She flopped on the hotel bed and stared at the ceiling. There was a big watermark, which she hoped didn't mean the ceiling would collapse any time soon.

"What did you do?" Brody asked.

She told him and had to wait until he finished laughing to continue. "It's not big deal, really. We went through worse when we played in college. Trust me, few people have anything on frat guys for sexist insults."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Yeah, well. There are jerks like him everywhere. He just happened to crawl out of the woodwork the night we were there. But we handled it and the set went pretty well, all things considered." She covered a yawn. "How's everything going with you? Nate hasn't given me my daily update."

"We lost." Brody huffed out a breath and she could imagine him rubbing a hand over his face. "We were out of sync last night. If it wasn't for Rizzy in goal, it would have been a lot worse." 

The Caps were mired in a tight series with the Montréal Canadiens for the second round of the playoffs; they were tied at two games apiece. Montréal had finished in eighth place, snagging the last playoff seed, but they'd already knocked off the first-seeded Pittsburgh Penguins. The Capitals had no intention of underestimating their opponent.

"I'm sorry, Brody. Don't be—I mean, everybody—" She shook her head. "Sorry, never mind. Anything I say is going to be a total cliché, and I know that's the last thing you want to hear."

"I don't know. I'd rather hear a cliché from you than anybody else."

She laughed. "Thanks, I think. I was just going to say everyone has an off night, but I know that's not what you want to hear."

"No. It's true, but no. We should have had them."

"You'll get them next time, buckaroo."

"What the hell?"

"Sorry." Ryan giggled. "That's what my Uncle Pete would say when my brothers lost a game or I was off on my music."

"Remind me never to talk sports with your Uncle Pete."

"Will do." She was quiet for a minute. "Okay, I have to get a little sappy. I miss you. I got used to it being easy to see you. I may just forget what you look like."

"Oh, you're funny. But if you're serious, why don't we try this on Skype or something?"

"I hadn't thought of that." Ryan sat up and got her computer. "Hold on, let me get this set up. I'll buzz you in a minute, okay?"

"Sure." 

Ryan cut off the call and opened the program on her computer. She couldn't believe she was looking forward to this so much and that she hadn't thought of it before. Brody answered on the first ring.

"Hey, rock star." 

"What is that thing on your face?" Ryan stared at him, shocked.

"What?" He stroked his sandy-colored beard. "Don't you like it?"

"I don't know. I've never seen you with a beard." She studied the picture, laughing as he posed in profile. She knew players grew playoff beards, but hadn't thought about Brody having one. "I guess it'll do. How long will you keep it?"

"As long as necessary and as long as possible. I'm keeping this baby through the whole playoffs."

"And after?"

He wiggled his eyebrows. "I thought I'd let you decide."

"Ah, no. Take a picture for posterity, then you can get rid of it."

"Come on, sweetheart, give it a chance. You might like it." He leered at her, making her laugh again.

"I'd rather see you with one than not at all." Ryan sighed. "I do miss you."

"Yeah, I know the feeling." He gave her a wistful smile. "I can't wait until you're back."

"It'll be nice to stop traveling," she admitted. "And I never knew how much I appreciated thick walls until we started staying in these, um, places."

He laughed. "What kind of place are you in tonight?"

"I don't know. Something like the Sea Angel Hotel, which is hilarious because I don't think there's a lake, let alone a sea, within a hundred miles of here. Look at the décor." Ryan slid her chair back and turned the computer so he could see the faded wallpaper and the garish paint-by-number seascape on the wall.

"Christ, stop!" Brody covered his eyes. "It's burned into my retinas!"

Ryan threw her head back and laughed. "Sorry. Here, it's okay now."

He peeked through his fingers and heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief when he saw her on the screen. "You should have warned me. That is horrid. How will you sleep knowing it's there?"

"The light will be out so I won't have to see it."

"I think I'd wear a blindfold during the day." He paused. "You know, you could try that when you get back. I'd be around to make sure you didn't bump into anything."

"Jesus, you're terrible. A one-track mind. And no."

"Won't you let me live out any of my fantasies?"

"Maybe, but not the ones that involve me being blindfolded."

"Hmmm. I'll work on that." He stifled a yawn. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I'd better go."

"Okay. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up too late."

"Nah, I was kind of wired. I couldn't sleep when I first got back, I would have just been up watching something anyway."

"All right." She smiled and found herself wishing she could kiss him good-bye. "Get some sleep. And don't worry about the game, I—nope, never mind. No more clichés."

"Fair enough. And you guys be careful."

"We will, don't worry."

They said their good nights and Ryan yawned as she switched off the computer. She needed some sleep as well and looked longingly at the bed, but first she had to brush her teeth. Armed with a sneaker, she went to the bathroom and flipped on the light. She fell back then relaxed when she saw nothing scurrying on the floor or counter. As she brushed her teeth, she debated whether they should keep the light on all night. She didn't like the idea of getting up in the middle of the night and encountering any six-legged roommates.

She left the light on and went back into the room. Lara came in just as Ryan pulled on one of the long t-shirts she slept in.

"Hey, how's Trout?" Ryan asked.

"Good, good." Lara covered a yawn. "He says hi, and check the website tomorrow around ten o'clock. I called my mom, too, she says hi. And your stuff is fine."

Ryan laughed. "Tell her thanks. Can't wait to see the site."

"Me either. So, did you talk to Brody?"

"I did, and oh, my God." She told Lara about the beard and her friend made an approving noise.

"You can't tell him to shave it off. At least, not until you have a chance to experience it for yourself." 

"How does one 'experience' a beard? And when have you?"

"Trout had a beard for a while once. It was . . . fun."

Ryan winced. "TMI, Lara, TMI. I do not want to know any more about this. Just—just—no. No no no. I'm going to bed."

"Wuss." Lara chortled on her way to the bathroom.

Ryan laid in the bed and closed her eyes, trying to make the icky feeling of the guys at the bar go away. She concentrated on Brody instead, smiling at the memory of his beard. Too bad he wasn't there, she thought as she turned over. Maybe it would be an interesting experience.

x-x-x-x

Game five back in Washington was even more tightly-contested than game four in Montréal. 

Brody saw the puck sliding to the corner and charged after it. He caught a flash of white out of the corner of his eye, knew he had a step on the defenseman, and sped up as he focused on the puck. A few feet out from the boards he felt something slam into his back and then he crashed into the boards. He dropped face down to the ice. 

"Brody, you okay?" He could hear an accented voice above him. "Don't move. Lou coming."

Brody tried to say something but wasn't sure if he did. Tolya sounded like he was talking over a bad phone line, distant and tinny. Brody took a breath and tried to get his hands and knees under him; he couldn't.

"Hold on, Langer. Take it easy." He heard Lou's voice. "Can you hear me?"

Brody took a breath and at last managed to prop himself up on his elbows. "Yeah."

"Just take it easy. Breathe."

"Okay."

"Don't move too fast."

"Okay. Yeah, okay." Brody closed his eyes against the dizziness that swept over him. He took more deep breaths at Lou's urging. 

"Ready to try getting up? Just get up on your knees."

"Sure." He wasn't sure he was ready, but he didn't want to stay on the ice. With Lou's help he got on all fours, then up on his knees. His head was reeling. After another few minutes, Tolya came to his other side to help Lou get him to his feet. 

"Careful, Langer," Tolya cautioned. "Not rush. You hit hard."

He let Tolya and Lou guide him to the bench, dimly registering the applause from the Washington fans. Once he was off the ice, Lou and an assistant led him back to the quiet room, as required by NHL rules for any player suspected of having a concussion. The team doctor came in as well. Brody squinted against the lights and realized he had a monster headache.

"Hey, Lou, got some aspirin?" He winced at the sound of his own voice.

Lou gave him a grim look. "I think you're going to need more than an aspirin, pal."

x-x-x-x

Ryan clapped her hands over her mouth as she watched Brody go down. The band had decided to relax and splurge a little on an off-night, going for a decent meal at a sports bar across from their hotel to catch the game. This was not what she'd hoped to see.

She watched, speechless, as the camera pulled back so that she could see both Brody lying on the ice and his teammates charging over to take the Canadiens to task. Bax was the first one in and grabbed one guy by the shoulders. Another Canadien tried to break that up but another Cap jumped in and soon all the players save Brody, Strelkov and the goalies were in a huge scrum.

"Shit, oh shit. Did you see that?" She wrung her hands. "That guy was moving like a freight train. Brody went down like a ton of bricks. Shit."

Lara rubbed her shoulder. "Relax, Ry. He'll be okay. Sometimes they just get the wind knocked out of them, you know that. Brody's a tough guy." 

Ryan covered her eyes and took a deep breath. When she looked up, she stole glances at her friends, all of whom looked concerned since Brody was still lying on the ice. She watched the TV as they showed a replay. In slow motion, Brody went after the puck. Knowing what was coming made it hard to watch, but she couldn't turn away either. A Montréal player came into the picture and slammed Brody in the back, sending him rocketing into the boards head first, and he crashed to the ice. The slow motion didn't make it look any better; Ryan dropped her head into her hands.

"He's getting up, that's good," Mitch said after the replay finished.

Nate nodded. "Yeah. And he wasn't unconscious. He won't need a stretcher or anything."

Ryan's shoulders slumped. "Jesus, Nate. Thanks a lot."

"Sorry."

They watched as Brody was led off and Ryan didn't know if she was relieved or not. It was good he was on his feet, but he was obviously unable to skate on his own. She wanted to call him, but knew he wouldn't be able to talk for a while. She settled for sending a text. Saw the hit. Hope you're okay. Call when you can. Worried about you. She felt a little better for having sent the message; this way he'd know she knew what had happened, but he could reply whenever he had a chance.

The game resumed but Ryan didn't have the heart to watch it. "I'm going back to the hotel, guys."

"Want me to come with you?" Lara asked.

"No, it's okay. I just can't watch anymore." The Caps were up by two goals, but there was still a period and a half left and Ryan knew injuries like that could affect the players. She didn't think she could take watching them lose.

"Okay, we'll see you later. Call if you need anything."

"He'll be okay, Ryan." Mitch looked over, all sincerity. "We'll let you know what they say."

"Thanks."

She left and walked across the parking lot to the hotel, not sure what to do. In a crisis, she usually called Lara or Brody. But Lara had been there, so there was little else she could say, and Brody was a non-starter. Her mom wasn't an option and she didn't want to bother Evan while he was finishing up his exams. It occurred to her that she had a pretty small circle of close friends, and tonight underscored how alone she was when the circle was messed up.

Not exactly alone, she reminded herself. She did have Brody and the band. She'd been lonely at times, but she knew she wasn't alone. In fact, she realized that even with Brody in the playoffs, she was less lonely than she would have been if he wasn't in her life at all. 

"I have spent years trying to get away from sports, and it would just figure I'd fall for an athlete," she muttered to herself as she went into the elevator. 

She pushed the button for her floor and stared at the panel as she realized what she'd said. Fallen for him? She groaned and slumped back against the wall. When had that happened? And why figure it out now, when she couldn't do anything about it?

"You know, I could wish for better timing." She stalked down the hall to her room, then turned on the TV and found the channel for the game to see if there was any news on Brody.



Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 11



Author's Note: Many thanks to MugsyB and Annanova for their feedback on drafts, and to estragon for copy editing. Any remaining errors are mine -- sorry in advance.




After watching Brody suffer his concussion, Ryan couldn't sleep. She laid in bed and dozed fitfully at best, giving up around seven a.m. She dressed quietly to avoid waking Lara and went for a walk. After close to an hour, she still wasn't ready to return to the hotel. She found a diner a block away and went in and ordered some coffee. When her phone rang, she grabbed for it. "Hello."

"Hi, Ryan? This is Bax. Chuck Baxter."

"Hi, Bax. How are you?" Her stomach tied in knots; why would Bax call unless it was bad news?

"I'm fine. Listen, Brody wanted me to call you. I don't know if you know, but he got hit in the game last night."

She swallowed. "Yeah, I know. I saw. How is he? It looked pretty bad."

"He's got a concussion. That's why I'm calling. He's at home, but last word is he's got a monster headache—which is not unusual—and he needs time to rest. I know you must be worried, but I wanted to tell you to give him a few days."

"Okay." 

"Look, Ryan, don't worry too much about this. You probably won't hear from him for a few days, but that's par for the course; I'm not even going to call him for a while. He needs some time for things to settle down and then he'll see the doc and they can gauge how he's doing."

"Okay." Ryan closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath. "Thanks for calling, Bax. I didn't know what to do."

"It's not a problem. And I know it's scary. I had a concussion a couple of years ago and those first few days after aren't easy, but we know more than we did even then. We've got a good medical staff and no one's going to rush him back."

"He'll probably be doing that himself," Ryan said. "He'll hate not being able to play."

"Yeah, probably. It'd be like you hurting your hand or something."

She winced. "Don't say things like that, Bax, you'll jinx me."

"I thought only athletes were superstitious like that." He chuckled.

"Oh, trust me, we all have our little . . . quirks." Ryan rubbed her forehead.

"I believe you. So, how is everything going?"

"Really well, thanks. We have a show later today."

"Good—no, wait, I have to say 'break a leg,' right?"

"If you want to. I'm not picky, and that's for the theater anyway."

"All right. Good luck, break a leg, whatever it is. Hope you have a good show, Ryan."

"Thanks, Bax, and thanks for calling. If you see Brody, tell him I miss him, and to call me when he feels up to it."

"Will do. Bye, Ryan."

She said goodbye and ended the call, relieved to have some news about Brody although she was still worried. Ryan knew that concussions were unpredictable and their effects cumulative. The post-concussion symptoms could last for months. She'd read how concussions had ended more than one career in sports, and sometimes not until a year or two later. Her coffee sat, getting cold as she tried not to be swamped by such fears.

A plate landed in front of her and Ryan looked up in surprise. 

"Here, eat," Lara said as she dropped into the opposite chair.

"Good morning to you, too." Ryan waited for her heart to stop racing. "Did you have to do that?"

"Eat," Lara repeated. "I know you haven't eaten."

"I'm so predictable." Ryan broke off a piece of the muffin and ate it. "How did you know where I was? And thanks."

"It's not like there are a lot of options around here, and you're welcome. Everything okay?" 

"Yeah, it is. As okay as it can be." She filled Lara in on Bax's phone call. "I'm glad to know, I just wish I could do more."

"And you're still worried," Lara observed. "Are you going to be okay tonight?"

"Sure, on both counts." Ryan shrugged. "I have to be, don't I? It's not like I can do anything for him, and playing will keep my mind off it."

"He'll be all right, Ryan." Lara squeezed her hand. "He's in top shape and you know they've got great doctors."

"I know. Thanks. I guess I'd feel better if I could talk to him myself."

"You will. Just give it a couple more days. Maybe Bax will call again with an update."

"I hope so." Ryan sighed. "I never expected stuff like this while I was on tour, either."

Lara gave her a sympathetic smile. "No one ever said it would be easy."

Ryan sipped at her coffee. No, no one said it would be easy, but just this once, she wished it was.

x-x-x-x

Five days after he'd suffered the concussion, Brody was at last feeling better. His headaches had abated and although he had occasional nausea and dizziness, those episodes were getting fewer and farther between. He hoped he'd be cleared for light exercise soon, although the doctor was in no hurry. He, on the other hand, harbored some hope that he'd be back before the playoffs were over.

In fact, he was well enough that he was going to watch game seven at Verizon Center from the press box. It wasn't anywhere near as good as playing, but at least he'd be there.

He was watching the sports news when he heard a knock at the door and got up to answer. He was pleased to see Bax. "Hi, man. What's up?"

The older man shook his head. "Nothing, I was just checking on you. Doreen was worried, and Tara, too. Doreen thinks Tara has a crush on you." He narrowed his eyes. "Stay away from my daughter, Lang."

Brody laughed, which he hadn't done since his injury. "Yes, sir, Mr. Baxter, sir."

Bax grinned and dropped into a chair. "That's more like it." He became serious. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. Better. Tell Doreen thanks for thinking of me, and Tara, too." Brody paused, then shrugged. "What can I say? You know the drill. They told me to take it easy, rest, all of that."

"And you should. You want to be careful with this, Langer."

"I know, I know. I've gotten the lecture from both parents, one sister and a brother, not to mention Lou."

Bax chuckled. "All right, then. I'll leave it alone. Let's talk about something else. Any word from Ryan?"

"I'm going to talk to her in a little while. She texted to say they were in the middle of something and she'll let me know when they're done. Thanks for calling her." He gave Bax a wry look. "It figures the one time she watches a playoff game, I get mowed down."

"Murphy's Law," Bax agreed. "The first time Doreen came to see me play, I got clipped just above my eye and was bleeding like crazy. She was not happy, to say the least. It wasn't really that bad—you know how those cuts look worse than they are—but it freaked her out a lot."

"I haven't talked to Ryan yet so I'm not sure how freaked out she is. I texted her back to let her know I was okay, but we haven't talked yet."

"She was okay when I talked to her," Bax told him. "Worried, but she didn't panic. I bet with her brothers playing sports she knows a little more about it than most people. She seemed pretty steady."

Brody hadn't thought about it quite that way, but Bax had a point. Ryan had been pretty calm about the whole thing although he knew she was concerned. He liked that. She'd sent a couple of texts, but hadn't swamped him with phone calls just to make herself feel better. "Yeah, she doesn't panic, does she? She's practical or something. It's nice to know I can tell her something, even a bad thing, and she won't go to pieces."

"Uh-oh, sounds like love to me."

"Oh, please. I have a concussion; I'm not crazy."

"What's crazy about that?"

"Nothing, I guess." Brody felt drained now; fatigue was another symptom he hadn't shaken. He rested his head back on the couch.

"All right. You feeling okay?" Bax looked concerned. "Do you need anything? I have to go soon but I could probably zip out and get you something if you need it."

"No, thanks, I'm good. The headaches are pretty much gone but I still get tired. I just need to rest and try to relax. Really, I'm okay, Bax. Thanks for checking in."

"All right. Guess I'll head out, then."

Brody stood and walked with Bax to the door. "I hate not playing."

"I know, kid, we all do. Don't worry, it's not over yet."

Brody nodded and closed the door, then stood for a minute. He didn't know what to do with himself now that he wasn't playing. There were hours until game time. Rest, he thought. He'd rest and then call Ryan.

x-x-x-x

Ryan found herself with time on her hands. The sound check was finished for their next show and she'd had lunch. With a few empty hours in front of her, she considered a swim in the hotel's pool. Upon inspection, she rejected the idea. Green water was a nice decorative touch, but not something she wanted to swim in. She hoped Brody would call soon; she'd texted him a while ago but had held off on calling. When her phone rang, she was relieved to see his name on the screen.

"Hi, Brody."

"Hey there, rock star."

She smiled at the greeting. "Hey, yourself. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay."

"How are you really feeling?"

He paused before answering. "I'm okay, I'm not great. The dizziness is less, which is good, and the headaches are almost gone. I'm not better, not by a long shot. They'll give me another neuro test tomorrow just to see if there's any progress."

"I'm glad you're improving. I'm sorry I can't be there. I wish I could."

"If you were, would you be naked with a guitar? I bet that would make me feel better."

Ryan laughed. "It amazes me you can even think about such things with a concussion."

"I have nothing to do but think right now. They keep telling me to rest. So I just sit here in the quiet and, you know, think about things."

"Like me naked with a guitar."

"Why not?"

Ryan shook her head. "Well, I guess if it makes you feel better."

"It does, believe me. Anyway, how are things with you?"

"Oh, we've had some ups and downs, but mostly it's fine."

"Tell me. I need to hear about something besides concussion symptoms and testing and baselines."

"Well, the night after you were hit, we played to a club that had about twenty people in it. Somebody really fell down on promotion." She went on to regale him with similar anecdotes and tried to keep it light. She told him about playing a club in Delaware that had no air conditioning, which made everyone in the band sweat like crazy with the additional heat of the stage lights. "I think I lost a good three pounds that night."

Brody chuckled. "You're pretty impressive, you know that?" The warmth in his voice made Ryan relax a little.

"I don't know about that, but it's nice to know you think so."

"No, I mean, you don't let any of this stuff get to you. You just deal with it."

"Oh, I have my moments but I don't—we don't—have a choice but to deal with it."

"Still, you're good at it." He went quiet.

Ryan waited, then asked, "Are you still there?"

"I am, I'm sorry. Just tired. Well, not exactly tired; not sleepy tired. It's the fatigue. It's hard to think of things to say."

"It's okay. I'm just glad we got to talk. Why don't you go get some rest?" She gave a short laugh. "Boy, I bet you're tired of people saying that."

"You have no idea. But you're right. And I'm going to the press box tonight, so I really should rest up."

"Tell everyone I said good luck. Take it easy, Brody." Ryan bit her lip. "I miss you. I can't wait to see you when we're done."

"Me, either. Break a leg tonight, Ryan."

"Thanks. Good night."

"Good night."

She hung up thinking that she was doing a whole lot more than missing him, but she didn't want to have that conversation over the phone.

x-x-x-x

Brody ground his teeth as he watched the clock tick down in the third period. There was less than ten minutes left, and the Capitals trailed by two goals. After losing game five and falling behind the in the series, the Caps had forced a game seven back in Washington by winning game six in Montréal two nights before. He'd insisted on attending this game in person, even though he had to stay in the press box. He didn't feel great and probably shouldn't have come, but he couldn't bring himself to stay home when his teammates were fighting for their playoff lives.

He glanced over at the general manager, who stared down at the ice with a blank expression. Brody knew the man had to be seething inside even though it didn't show. 

Brody returned his attention to the game, a sick feeling in his stomach. The longer it went on the less time there was to score one goal, let alone two. His teammates tried, but the Canadiens had the upper hand. When time expired, he dropped his head. He couldn't bear to look at either the Habs celebrating by their goal or his teammates waiting glumly by the bench to line up for the post-series handshake.

He left the press box and took a taxi home. He wished he could call Ryan, but he knew she had a show. A glance at his watch showed it was late enough that she was probably about to go on, wherever she was.

He shifted against the seat, wishing he was going home to see her and not just to his empty apartment.

His phone beeped as he was opening his door. He looked and saw a text from Ryan. I'm really sorry. Call me when you can. Miss you.

Brody stared at the phone and debated whether to call her back. Did he want to talk to anyone right now with the loss still so fresh in his mind? He smiled; he wanted to talk to one person, even if she only had a few minutes. He dialed and waited for her to pick up.

"Hey, rock star."

x-x-x-x

Ryan grinned at Lara as they played their last show. The final three weeks of the tour had gone by in a blur, and she'd loved every minute. It was hard to believe it was over, but over didn't mean they were finished. Their manager, Jocelyn, had been working to land them more dates, and said she didn't think they'd have to wait long. She encouraged them to write more songs and keep working the social media platforms.

Trout had done an outstanding job on their website, and each of them had taken turns blogging since it went live, cross-posting the blog entries to Facebook. They linked to fan videos, concert reviews and tried to personally respond to comments left on the blog. They all had Twitter accounts as well. Ryan found she enjoyed the give-and-take with the fans, although it was sometimes hard to keep up. It paid off in people spreading the word about their shows and their songs, so no one in the band complained.

They finished the show and gathered for their customary post-performance beer. 

"Good job, guys," Mitch said. They clinked their bottles together.

"Absolutely," Ryan agreed. "We kicked some ass on this tour."

"Any word from Jocelyn?" Nate asked. 

"No, haven't heard yet, but she said we probably wouldn't for a few days," Ryan said.

"Good, I can use a vacation," Nate joked.

They all laughed and nodded. "I wouldn't turn one down," Lara said. "I'm definitely taking a few days to recover before I start looking for a job when we get back."

"Maybe you won't need one." Mitch grinned. "Maybe Jocelyn will get us our big break."

"So long as she gets it after I get a few days to sleep in," Ryan said.

After they returned to the hotel, Ryan checked her various e-accounts while Lara grabbed a shower. "God, I can't wait to get home." Lara sat on the bed and towel dried her hair. "This has been great but I will be happy to spend more than two nights in the same place."

Ryan closed the computer and yawned. "I'm with you. I'd say the good outweighed the bad and all that, but I won't be sorry to give up hard beds and bad wallpaper."

"What are you going to do when we get back?"

"I'm going to Brody's first, I guess. Then I'll see. Annette said I can crash there until I get things straightened out."

"I feel so bad for him." Lara reached for a comb and worked on de-tangling her hair. "For all of them."

"Me, too. And I'm still worried about his concussion. He says he's okay, but I know it can take a long time to get over them. I don't want him to do too much too fast."

"Yeah, those are scary." Lara frowned as she worked at a knot in her hair. "It's been almost four weeks, though, right? And now he has the whole summer to recover."

"I know, but he's not going to want to just lie around," Ryan said. "He said he's been trying some light exercise, and so far so good. He hasn't skated again yet, though."

"Have your brothers ever had concussions?"

"I don't know." Ryan considered that. "JT probably has, but they never said anything about it, at least not to me. Evan had a scare with his knee once a few years ago but I don't recall him ever having a concussion. With JT, though—it's football. I can't imagine he hasn't had one, but college football is tough that way. They all try to play through everything, even with all the new awareness and rules for treatment. And JT's always bragging that he plays through pain."

"Yeah, that sounds like JT," Lara said. She dropped the comb and covered a yawn. "Okay, I'm done. I need sleep."

"You and me both." Ryan slid under the covers. "'Night."

"Night." 

Ryan turned over, trying to find a comfortable position. When that didn't work, she punched at the pillows. At last, sheer exhaustion took over and she fell asleep.

The next day they stopped for breakfast and then began the trek home. Ryan and Lara split the driving, working on the band's blog in turns. As northern Virginia drew closer, Ryan found herself fidgeting in anticipation. She couldn't wait to see Brody. After his concussion, they'd dispensed with video calls, as he didn't want to risk a headache from staring at the screen. It worked better for Ryan anyway, since she tended to call while the band traveled. She wondered if he still had his playoff beard.

Lara pulled up in front of the apartment building and both women stared at it.

"It's weird to think we don't live here anymore," Ryan said.

"I was just thinking that." Lara smiled. "Come on, let's get your stuff out. Does Brody know you're here? Do you want to leave your stuff here first while you check?"

"I called a while ago, and he said he'd be home all day. I'll just grab my guitar and my clothes. If you could hold on to the keyboard and the rest, I'll get it as soon as I can."

"No problem." Lara stepped out and Ryan followed suit. "I'm going to my mom's first, actually, so I can put your stuff there. Then you can get it any time."

"Thanks."

They dug through the luggage and instruments piled in the car and rearranged the load once Ryan had removed her suitcase and guitar. 

"Do you want me to wait, in case he's not here?" Lara asked.

"No, that's okay, thanks. If he's not there, I'll check Mark's place. Maybe I can hang there. I'll be fine, don't worry."

"Okay. Tell everybody I said hi." Lara was quiet for a minute, then laughed. "Wow, this is really weird."

Ryan grinned, hoping her nervousness didn't show. "Yeah, it is. Go on, say hi to your mom. Seriously, if I need a ride or anything, I'll call you. Or, hey, I'll stay at a hotel; I'm a pro at it now." She laughed.

"Aren't we all?" Lara grinned and moved to the driver's side door. "Take it easy, Ry."

"You, too. And let me know if you hear from Jocelyn."

"Will do."

Ryan took a deep breath and entered the building, then encountered her first obstacle: the security lock on the inside door. She buzzed the desk and waved at the guard. He smiled in recognition and let her in. They exchanged greetings as she made her way to the elevator.

Ryan's anxieties came up full force as she rode up. What if Brody wasn't home? What if he was and the post-concussion symptoms had worsened? Maybe she should have called. She'd phoned him when they were a couple of hours away and he had told her to just come up, but perhaps she should have double checked. The car jerked to a stop and the doors opened, interrupting her thoughts.

No point in turning back, she thought, and walked down the hallway.




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 11



x-x-x-x

Brody checked the lasagna while he waited for Ryan. He hoped she hadn't gotten stuck in traffic, although he figured she'd call if something like that happened. It seemed strange that the six weeks were over. The only thing wrong was that he wasn't still playing hockey. Not that he would be even if the team was still in the playoffs. He was improving and would try skating again the next week. Still, he chafed at the restrictions.

The knock at the door jerked him out of his thoughts and he hurried over to open it. 

"Hi."

"Hi." He stood there and grinned down at Ryan until she laughed.

"So are you going to let me in?"

"Just making sure it's really you." He leaned down to kiss her and reached for her guitar. "Come on in."

"Thanks." 

After her things had been stowed in the bedroom, he reached for her and pulled her into a thorough kiss. She made a pleading sound and he tightened his arms around her, trying to make up for all the lost time. Her fingers toyed with his hair before she wrapped her arms around him and held on.

"God, I missed you," she said.

"Missed you, too." Brody held her for a minute, rubbing his cheek against her hair and stroking her back.

"You still have your beard." Ryan pulled back just enough to look at him and smile.

"I didn't think it was fair to shave it off until you had a chance to see it for yourself. I thought you might like it." To prove his point, he leaned in and rubbed his chin against her neck. She yelped and laughed but he wouldn't let her go.

"Okay, enough!" Ryan couldn't stifle a few residual giggles even after Brody stopped. 

"I knew you'd like it." Brody grinned.

"So, what smells so good?" 

"Lasagna. I figured you probably haven't eaten."

She laughed. "It's been a while, and certainly not anything as good as what you make." She wiggled her hips against him. "But I could wait a little on the food."

Brody made some quick mental calculations. "Hold on." He held her hand and led her into the kitchen, unwilling to let go now that she was here. She laughed as he got out a hot pad, set the lasagna on it and turned off the oven all with one hand. 

"There." He nodded and turned back to her, pulling her close. "Now we'll have some food for after."

"Are you sure we should?" Serious, Ryan brushed his hair back. "How are you feeling? As much as I missed you, I don't want to do anything that makes your head worse."

"I'm fine." He caught her hand and brushed his lips over palm. "Really, I'm fine. They've cleared me for light work outs and I'll be skating against next week and if I don't get you into bed, I think I'll explode."

"Can't have that." Ryan smiled and reached up to kiss him.

"Come on." He nudged her out of the kitchen.

She sighed. "I guess you shouldn't carry me."

"Probably not. I'm only cleared for light exercise." He gave her a rueful smile and she was stunned into silence for a minute.

"Oh, you think you're so funny." Ryan moved scowled, fighting not to laugh after Brody started. "I think I'll skip the surprise I had planned for you." She crossed her arms in front of her.

"No, no, don't do that." Brody stopped laughing and pulled her back to him. "Come on," he coaxed as she resisted. "I was kidding, you know that. I think you look terrific." He kissed her neck and she broke out in giggles as his beard tickled her skin. "What's the surprise? Tell me."

"I can't; you have to wait a minute." Ryan stepped back and he gaped at her.

"Wait? I haven't seen you for over a month and you want me to wait? I don't think so." He reached for her but she shook her head.

"I just need a minute."

"All right, fine." He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "This better be worth it!" he called after her as she went into the bedroom, but she just laughed. He strained to hear what she was doing, but nothing gave him a clue.

"Okay, you can come in now."

Brody stopped in the doorway, speechless.

"Don't like it?" Ryan raised an eyebrow.

He tried to speak, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Oh, I like it." It was a fantasy come true.

Ryan sat on the bed, naked with her guitar. She grinned at him as she slid one hand over the neck of the guitar and lightly strummed the strings with the other. "You sure? I can always get dressed again."

"No, you're fine." He stripped off his shirt, stretched out on the bed facing her and tugged on her arm. She stopped playing and leaned over for his kiss. He kept a hand on her shoulder and teased her lips with his tongue; she parted her lips and he delved deeper. Ryan shivered as his fingers trailed up and down her arm.

"I figured after the playoffs and all, I'd try to cheer you up," she said after the kiss ended.

"I'm feeling better all the time." He toyed with the ends of her hair. "I know I keep saying it, but I missed you a lot."

"I missed you, too, and it's nice to hear." Ryan traced a finger along his jaw. "I'm really sorry how everything went for you: the concussion, the playoffs. I wished I was closer when those things happened."

"I wished you were, too, but you're here now, so it's all good." 

"Yeah, it is." This time she kissed him.

Brody tangled his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss. He wanted to reacquaint himself with everything about her: the way she felt, the way she tasted, the way she reacted to all the things he was about to do to her. There was only one thing stopping him.

"You don't need this," he told her and tapped the guitar. "Although I have to say—nice G string."

Ryan rolled her eyes but couldn't hide a smile. "I'll get rid of this if you get rid of those." She tugged at his jeans.

"Deal." 

Ryan put the guitar down and laughed as Brody fought with his shoes before shoving his jeans off and tossing them on the floor. She sighed happily and rocked her hips as he brought her body against his.

He groaned. "Hey, watch that. I wanted to enjoy this."

Her eyes glinted as she pressed herself against him. "I'm enjoying it."

"I'll just bet you are." He smiled but didn't move to do anything. 

"Something wrong? Does your head hurt?" Ryan looked concerned.

"No, I'm fine." He brushed her lips with his own. "Just making sure you're really here." 

"I was wondering the same thing about you." She nipped at his bottom lip. "Let's prove it to each other."

"Good idea." 

Brody captured her mouth once more as though he'd never let her go. He groaned as she shifted against him, rubbing against his erection. She hooked one leg over his and drew him closer. She was warm and soft, and he most definitely was not.

Ryan shivered against him as he kissed her neck and shoulder. He intensified his efforts and she sighed and rolled her hips against him. 

He took his time exploring her body, leading with his hands and following with his mouth. When he took a nipple in his mouth, she let out a soft cry and grabbed at his shoulders. He let his hand drift down along her side and over her hip, teasing her with light caresses on her leg. He laughed low in his throat when she tried to move his hand.

"What's your hurry?" he teased.

"It's been six weeks," she tossed back.

"Well, then." He moved his hand between her legs and paused for a moment before sliding a finger along her slick skin. "God, you feel so good."

Ryan made a noise he took for agreement and he began stroking her with a steady rhythm. He found her mouth again and she tangled her hands in his hair to keep him in place. She tore her lips away and her breath came in gasps. Brody watched her; her eyes were half-closed and she bit her lip as her body tensed. 

Her hips moved in concert with his hand. She drew in a shaky breath and held it, then released it with a groan as she came. He didn't stop until she grabbed his wrist and managed a whispered "Please."

"Anything for you," he said, his own voice rough.

"How about this?" Ryan was still breathless, but she managed a smile as she wrapped a hand around his hard shaft.

"Oh, God, yes." Brody moved over top of her, sinking into her body as she held him close. Ryan came around him once more and he forgot everything except the two of them. He kissed her mouth, her shoulder, her neck, wherever he could put his lips. 

Ryan dragged her nails up his back and his body was on fire. He knew he wouldn't last much longer and decided not to fight it. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her neck as his body tensed and he gave into his release.

For a moment all he heard was the thrumming of his heart and the raggedness of their breathing. When he felt coordinated enough, he rolled to his side, keeping an arm around her and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I guess we're really here." Ryan gave a quiet laugh. "At least I think I am."

Brody smiled. "That's good. I'd hate to think this was all a dream or something."

"No, no dream." Ryan nestled into him. "So, any chance of dinner? I started dreaming about that a couple of weeks ago. If I never see another McChicken sandwich, it'll be too soon."

Brody groaned. "Are you serious?"

"Hey, it's not like we had a per diem or anything."

"Get dressed then. We can go eat the lasagna." Brody paused. "Well, you don't have to get dressed. I won't complain."

Ryan shook her head and reached for her shirt. Brody gave a wistful sigh and grabbed his jeans. 

While they ate the lasagna, Ryan told him more about the tour and he recounted the end of the playoffs in more detail. She laughed when he presented her with gourmet mint chocolate chip ice cream.

"You really do pay attention, don't you?" She rested her chin on her hand and smiled at him.

"I try."

The next morning, Ryan woke up and stretched, savoring the feeling of being next to Brody and not in a seedy motel.

"Good morning." He propped himself on an elbow.

"Hi." She stretched again. "I can't tell you how nice it is to stay in a real bed. I'm so tired of motels and hotels and whatever else."

"I can imagine."

"Do you have some breakfast?" She looked at him hopefully.

"You bet." He leaned in for a quick kiss. "What would you like?"

"I have no idea. Whatever you have will be fine."

"Okay. I'll find something."

Ryan smiled as he got out of bed and threw on some sweat pants. She showered and dressed then went out to the kitchen. She stood for a moment, trying to identify the smells.

"Hey. That's the thing you made me before. Huevos rancheros." She laughed. "I can't believe you remember that."

"I remember things. Like how you don't eat." He gestured to the table. "Have a seat."

"Thanks." Ryan sat and drank some orange juice. "This is great."

He chuckled. "You haven't even had the food yet."

Ryan looked at him. "It's not all about the food."

x-x-x-x

Brody was as relaxed and content as he could ever recall being for the next few days. Ryan was still there. She'd talked about finding a job, and calling Annette's friend to see about the apartment in Adams Morgan, but she had stayed with him. For the first couple of days, it appeared all the traveling had caught up to her and she slept a lot. He didn't mind. Just knowing she was there made him feel better.

After Ryan had caught up on her sleep, they'd spent time together. It was different than before; now neither of them had to go to work, or a game, or a meeting or anything else. Brody found he liked the rhythm they established. It would have to end sometime, but for now it was good.

"I texted Annette earlier today," she told him as they ate dinner one night. "That apartment in Adams Morgan fell through." She sighed. "But Annette said I could crash with her for a while, and she'll talk to other people. Lara's mom said I could stay there, too. I guess I really need to start looking for a job."

"Okay. No hurry." Brody reached over and squeezed her hand.

She smiled. "Thanks. I did need a few days off, but I have to get myself together. Jocelyn was working on some more stuff for us, and I have a little money left, but not a lot."

"Any idea when you might hear from her?"

"She said it would be a few days when we last talked to her, which was before the last show. I thought we'd have heard by now, but I'll wait another day or two before calling her. Jocelyn's cool, so I think she'll call with news, or at least a status report, when she has something to tell us."

Her phone rang as they were clearing the table. 

"I'll be right back," she told Brody. "That's Jocelyn."

She stepped into the living room and he half-listened as he dealt with the dishes. At one point, he laughed as Ryan made a sound that sounded like a laugh and a shriek all at once. She came back in the kitchen, clutching the phone to her chest.

"Hey, what was that?" Brody glanced over from the sink. "You look like you're about to burst."

"Jocelyn did it! She got us on a tour! We're going to open for Stone Fortress when they come to the East Coast! And then she has us headlining some clubs! Oh, my God, I can't believe it!" 

"That's fantastic!" Brody stepped over and scooped her up in to a hug, swinging her in a tight circle. "You guys deserve it."

"Thanks! Thanks! Oh God, I—I don't know what to do." Ryan looked up at him, dazed.

Brody laughed. "Maybe you want to call Lara or something?"

"Yeah, I will. I will. Jocelyn is calling everyone personally, so I'll give her some time for that. Besides, I think I need to let it sink in. It doesn't feel real." Ryan rubbed a hand over her eyes.

"Any other details? When does it start?"

"In, um, three weeks." She huffed out a breath. "Wow, three weeks. Hardly any time at all."

"Three weeks?" Brody looked at her, his enthusiasm fading. "How long will the tour be?

"I'm not sure. I was too excited to ask questions." Ryan frowned. "What? What's the matter?"

"So you're going to be gone all summer." Brody stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I—I guess. I don't know exactly but I guess, yeah, we'll be gone a lot of it." Ryan realized the problem and felt guilty. "Oh. I'm sorry. You were going to stay in Virginia this summer."

"Yeah."

Ryan couldn't believe she'd gone from near euphoria to sad confusion in such a short time. "Well, look." She cleared her throat. "I still have three weeks before I go. That gives us some time, and—"

"So is this how it's going to be?" Brody asked.

"How what's going to be?"

"Me running around during hockey season, you running around during the summer?"

"I don't know." Ryan closed her eyes and took a breath, trying to sort out her thoughts. "I only know what it's like right now. And right now, the band had a great opportunity that we can't miss. I want that, and I want you to be happy about it for me."

"It's kind of hard to be happy about not seeing you for weeks at a time."

"I'm not thrilled about that aspect of it either," she told him, and reached for a compromise. "Maybe you could come along sometimes. I'd love to have you with me."

He rolled his eyes. "So I come along, amuse myself all day then watch you perform and sleep with you in between?"

Ryan stepped back. "That's a little harsh. Look, I know this is a lot to process. I'm still working through it myself."

"There's not much to work through, Ryan. You were gone, you're back and you're leaving again in three weeks. It's a little hard to work a relationship in with that, isn't it?"

Her eyes flashed. "You think it's so easy for me when you're constantly here and gone during the hockey season?"

"At least I have a schedule! At least you know when I'll be here or not."

"A schedule?" She choked out a laugh. "You think that makes it so much easier? Knowing that—that it'll be two days or two weeks before I see you when I want to see you now? Or need to see you? Yeah, that's so much better."

Brody took a deep breath and raked his hands through his hair. "Ryan, I'm not trying to fight. But I don't think you can blame me for being disappointed about this. I looked forward to spending the summer with you, to taking you to Michigan—to just spending time with you. And now you tell me you can't do that."

"Am I supposed to say no?" She willed him to understand. "Brody, we can't wait for this kind of thing to come around again. It may never. You may not believe this, but I don't care if we rule the charts or if I live in some big Malibu mansion. I just want to be able to support myself doing what I love to do. And this is what I have to do in order to get there."

"I don't have to like it."

Ryan pressed her fingers to her eyes. "You know what I hate? I hate that you're the person I want to tell most about this, to share it with, and so far, both times I've had big news, it's been a mess. I know the first time wasn't your fault, and I went off, but this is different."

"I don't see what's so hard to understand. You're back after six weeks and all the time I planned on spending with you won't happen."

"What do you want me to do? Say no?"

He scoffed to cover his confused feelings. "Of course not. Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous, I'm trying to figure this out," Ryan said. "You want me to go and don't want me to go. That doesn't give me a whole lot to work with."

"Can't I just be a little upset about this for a while? Don't I get to be just a little pissed off when you throw a monkey wrench in my plans?" 

"Funny how you can get pissed off about my career, but I can't about yours." Ryan turned and threw up her hands and went back to the bedroom. "Forget it."

"Where are you going?" Brody followed her. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting my stuff." She grabbed her bag and set it on the bed, then threw her clothes in. After a minute, she paused and turned to him. "If I stay here, one or both of us will say something really bad. I'm not great at all this relationship stuff, but I know that much. I don't want that to happen. I'm going to Lara's, or maybe her mom's."

He stared for a moment, then spun to follow her as she left the bedroom and walked to the door. "Hey, wait. Ryan, I don't want you to go. Don't leave."

She gave him a sad smile. "I don't actually want to go, but I think it's best. I think we need some time apart to figure all this out."

"Why can't we figure it out together?"

"Maybe we can, but we can't right now. We're both not thinking straight." She reached up and kissed him. "I'll call you, Brody."

He watched her go, wondering how everything had been shot to hell in twenty minutes.



Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 12



Author's Note: Well, here it is, the final installment. Thanks once again to MugsyB and Annanova for encouragement, my beta reader J, and to estragon for copyediting. Any errors are mine, but hopefully there aren't many. Thanks to all who have read, voted and commented -- it means so much.



Lara looked at Ryan over the top of her latté. "You guys fought over a tour again?"

"Well, we didn't exactly fight," Ryan said with a rueful smile. "I got out before it became a fight. But there was definitely a difference of opinion."

"What happened?"

"I already told you. Brody got upset when he realized I would be gone the rest of the summer. Then I got upset and left. I just knew if I stayed and we kept talking, it would get ugly." Ryan stopped and took a drink of her coffee. She'd gone to Lara's mom's after leaving Brody's place the other night; she couldn't take the idea of being around a happy couple, even if it was Lara and Trout.

"Have you talked to him since?" Lara asked.

Ryan stared at the table. "I texted him to let him know I was at your mom's, and I called yesterday and left a message. I don't know what else to do."

"How about going to see him?"

"Maybe. I do want to talk to him, I just don't know what to say. I'm going on the tour, obviously. I'm sorry it messes with his plans, but I can't help it. I didn't ask him to stay in Virginia."

"Hey, relax." Lara raised an eyebrow. "You're getting defensive, and I'm on your side."

"I know, I know. I don't mean to, I'm sorry. I just—" Ryan took a deep breath. "I guess I'm kind of scared. I'm not sure if we can fix this."

"Sure you can, Ry, it'll just take—"

"Lara, it's okay." Ryan gave her friend a half-smile. "I want it to work but I know it might not."

"Don't interrupt," Lara admonished.

"Sorry."

"Anyway, yes, it'll take work and I don't know what else from the both of you. But I can't believe Brody would let you go over a business trip."

Ryan laughed. "A business trip?"

"Sure, why not?" Lara shrugged. "My aunt works for a multinational whatever, and she's gone on trips that lasted two and three months. Or think of it as TDY."

"A temporary duty assignment? Come on, we're not working for the government."

"Don't be so literal. You're doing that to avoid the subject."

"Yeah, I guess." Ryan slumped in her chair. "I'm serious, I don't know what to say. He wants me to go and doesn't want me to go. Where does that leave me? It's not like I can leave half of me here and half go on the tour."

"Maybe you need to pick a new point and start from there," Lara suggested.

"I guess, but it's going to come back to the same thing. Him traveling for the team is fine. Me traveling for music isn't. Sports wins, as usual." Ryan felt sick as she said the words. 

"You don't know that's true," Lara said. "You were both upset and you've had a couple of days to calm down. You really should talk. It's not going to go away if you ignore it."

"Why not?"

"Come on, Ryan. You know I'm right."

"I know. That's why I keep you around." Ryan's smile was small but genuine.

"That and my fabulous singing voice." Lara tossed her hair back and Ryan had to laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, that, too." Ryan finished her coffee. "I will talk to him. I just don't know what to say."

"Don't worry. You'll figure it out."

x-x-x-x

Brody didn't know what to do. Once again, he was in a place he'd never been in a relationship. They hadn't broken up, but he wasn't sure what to do that would mean they were back together. It was a kind of limbo and he didn't like it.

What had happened to him, he wondered. When had he gone from not wanting anything serious until after he retired to wanting to fix things with Ryan as soon as possible? And worse, why did it seem unfixable?

They'd talked after Ryan had left but they never got anywhere. She was leaving in just over a week and he did not want her to go with things unsettled between them. He rubbed at his temples and went to get some medicine for a headache. Luckily this was a normal headache and not anything left from his concussion.

The phone rang and he debated whether to answer, but he picked up when he saw Bax's name. "Hi, Bax."

"Hey, Langer. How's your summer going?"

"It's going. How's Boston?"

"Actually, we're all down here. Doreen and I decided to bring the kids down for part of the summer. We'll head back to Boston in a couple of weeks." Bax sounded relaxed and happy, no doubt pleased to be reunited with his family.

Brody ignored the jealous feeling that rose up. "That's cool. What do the kids think of it so far?"

"So far they think it's great. Not sure how much longer that'll keep up, but it's kind of fun doing the tourist thing. We've managed to avoid the worst of the crowds."

"Lucky you."

"Anyway, how are you? How are you feeling? Any symptoms still?"

Brody smiled. "Bax, I'm fine. I have my own parents who check up on me, you know."

"Oh, I don't care how you're doing. Doreen was asking. Just passing it along."

"Right. Tell her thanks for asking." Brody laughed.

"Doreen also wanted me to invite you and Ryan over for dinner tomorrow night. The kids are dying to meet her, especially Tara."

"I thought Tara had a crush on me."

"She did. Now she wants to meet Ryan. Get over it; teenagers are fickle."

"Yeah. Listen, maybe you should call Ryan and ask her yourself." Brody felt awkward; he couldn't commit Ryan to anything, not when he wasn't even sure if they were still talking.

"All right." Bax was surprised. "Is everything okay, Brody?"

"You know, Bax, I have no idea." He sighed and told his friend what had happened. "So there you have it. I'm sure Ryan would love to meet Doreen and the kids. I just—I don't know if I'm the one to ask her about it."

Bax was quiet for a minute. "Well, you're still talking to her, right? I mean, you didn't break up, did you?"

"I don't know; I don't think so. I don't want to, but I'm just not sure what's going on. I know, you're going to tell me to talk to her, but the problem is we've been talking and just don't seem to get anywhere."

Bax chuckled. "You kids. Always with the drama."

"Gee, thanks, O Aged and Wise One."

"Don't be a dick. Look, come to dinner, okay? I'll call Ryan and ask her. We all want to see both of you."

"Sure, I'll be there," Brody promised. 

The evening wasn't as awkward as Brody feared it might be. He drove Ryan over; they had both agreed it was silly for her to rent a car when they were going to the same place. On top of that, he wanted to be alone with her for a little while, hoping he would find the right thing to say and break their impasse.

He didn't find it, but Ryan didn't seem to mind. She left everything alone, perhaps realizing that whatever they did need to say couldn't be covered in the fifteen-minute ride to Bax's apartment.

Things were easier once they arrived. The kids were excited to see both of them. Tara asked Brody as many questions about hockey as she asked Ryan about music. Her brother, Adam, was fascinated by Ryan's guitar, which Brody had suggested she bring. He remembered being curious about everything when he was a kid, and had a feeling Bax's kids would be no different.

It was odd to see Bax with his family. Brody had met them before, but only quickly, when they'd been down for a weekend when the kids were off school and Bax wasn't traveling. Watching him interact with his wife and kids, Brody saw a different side of his friend. He was more relaxed; now that he had his family with him, there was a tension in Bax that was missing.

"How do you do it?" Brody asked as they stepped into the kitchen for a beer.

"Do what?" Bax opened a bottle and handed it to him.

"Manage with them so far away?" Brody took a drink. "I don't know if I could do that."

Bax shrugged and drank from his own bottle. "You do what you have to. I don't like it, but it won't be for too much longer."

Brody did a double take. "What do you mean? Are you going to retire?"

"Not yet," Bax assured him. "But I'm not going to be playing until I'm forty. I don't want to and let's be honest, I can't. Another year and then we'll see, but I'm on the down side of my playing career, we all know that."

"I guess." Brody frowned as he drank a little more. 

"Relax, Langer." Bax grinned. "I'm not dead yet."

Brody studied him. "Looking a little pale, though."

"Smart ass. Give me back that beer."

"Bite me. Anyway, I was serious. I really don't know how you do it, all of you. I mean, Ryan was only gone for six weeks and I didn't know what to do with myself. And she's going for at least another two months. I can't help it; I don't like it."

"Sometimes," Bax said thoughtfully, "sometimes—you just have to wait for things and take what you can get while you wait."

Brody considered his friend's words. "That sucks."

Bax shook his head and finished his beer. "Kids today. You're so impatient."

x-x-x-x

"Did you have a good time?" Brody asked.

"Yeah, I did. Thanks for taking me." Ryan smiled to cover the awkwardness she felt. It had been a nice evening, despite the undercurrent of tension between her and Brody. They'd been able to ignore it while with Bax's family but there was no hiding from it now.

"Not a problem. I mean, Bax invited both of us and I don't mind driving."

"Good."

They fell silent as Brody drove. Ryan stared out the window. This was crazy; she and Brody shouldn't be like this with each other. They'd always been able to talk. Well, most times, she corrected herself. They had no problem joking around, but recent events had proved that their communication still needed some work.

She'd thought about that a lot the last few days, how every time they talked they retraced the same ground. That had to change; she couldn't leave without putting all of her cards on the table. It might not change anything, but at least she would know she'd been as honest as possible.

"You okay?" Brody's voice shook her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah, I was just thinking." She took a breath. "Can we go somewhere and talk?"

"Sure. Um, my place?"

"Maybe we could walk or something? It's not that late." Ryan wasn't sure if she could think straight if they went to his apartment.

"Sure."

He pulled into the parking garage at the apartment building and they walked outside. It was a nice summer night for a change, not too hot or humid. Ryan took a deep breath and noticed neither of them made a move to hold hands. Somehow that seemed one of the worst things about all of this.

She searched for a place to start as they walked up the street and settled on asking, "Are you mad at me?"

He looked at her in surprise. "No, why would I be?"

"I don't know. I'm just—I'm trying to figure this out, Brody. I don't like the way things are between us but we don't seem to be able to get past it."

"I know. I don't know what to do either."

"I'm going on the tour. I can't change that."

"I know. I'm still not happy about it; can't change that."

Ryan closed her eyes and paused before speaking. "But are you happy for me? That I have the chance to do this?"

"Yeah, I am," he said with no enthusiasm.

Ryan bit back an angry reply. That would set them on the same track and nothing would be solved. She had to break the pattern.

"Brody, we can't keep going like this." She stopped and waited for him to turn and look at her. "I want you to be happy for me. It really—it hurts that you're not."

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I said I was happy for you. I don't need guilt trips, Ryan."

"God damn it, this is not a guilt trip!" She made a frustrated sound and put her hands on her hips. "Okay, here it is. I love you. That's why it hurts that you can't seem to work up any enthusiasm for me at all."

Brody stared at her and she tried not to feel defensive. "Look, I didn't say that so you'd say it back, or to pressure you or anything. I just—we keep saying the same things. I didn't want to go without being honest, and I didn't want to hold anything back." She waited a few beats. "Aren't you going to say something? Anything?"

"I don't know what you want me to say." Brody looked as confused as she felt.

"No." She shook her head. "This isn't about what I want. It's about how we feel and what's going to happen next. It's about—about the fact that in a few days I'm leaving for a couple of months and I hate the idea of losing you before that happens."

"No one said you were going to lose me."

Ryan ignored the fact that Brody hadn't said anything about her loving him. Maybe it was best. She didn't want him to parrot it back to her; if he didn't mean it, she'd rather he didn't say it at all. That would hurt less than a false declaration of love. She swallowed in a dry throat. "That's good to know. Now tell me something else."

"I don't know what to say," he said, frustrated. "And I don't know what the point is. No matter what we say, that doesn't change that you're leaving and all things we'd talked about for the summer aren't going to happen."

"No, they aren't, but why can't we try something else?" Ryan felt desperate and hoped it didn't tell too much in her voice. "Why can't you meet me a couple of times while we're traveling?" She held up a hand before he could answer; they were going back to the same arguments. "No, never mind."

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Back to the car. I need my purse." Ryan turned and began walking back towards the car, as though she could outrun the confusion and hurt.

"Ryan, come on. I'll drive you back." Brody caught up to her and put a hand on her arm but she shook it off and kept moving.

"No. I'll get a cab." She took long strides, forcing him to increase his own pace to keep up with her. They said nothing else until she thanked him for retrieving her purse from the car. She took it without looking at him; she felt like she'd fall apart if she did. With one final murmured thanks, she turned to go.

"Ryan, please." He caught her arm. "I'm sorry. I'm just confused. I've never—this is all new to me."

She tugged her arm away, but gently, and looked up at him. "You know something, Brody? It's all new to me, too. I'm scared to death about all this, believe it or not. It'd be a little less scary with you on my side." For a moment she stood there, then she walked away, trying to get control of her roiling emotions.

x-x-x-x

Ten days later, Imaginary Grace worked through their first sound check of the new tour. Ryan had been so preoccupied with Brody that she she'd forgotten to be intimidated, or even nervous, about the upcoming shows. She wasn't sure how she felt about anything. Every time she thought about it, she went through a range of emotions from anger to frustration to sadness.

Involved in her own thoughts, she went through the songs on autopilot and didn't notice the glances her band mates gave her from time to time. Nor did she see the looks they exchanged with each other. 

When it was over, Lara snagged her arm. "Come on, let's go."

"What? What are you doing?" Ryan tried to get her arm back but Lara wouldn't let go.

"We're going to find a place to sit and talk."

"Why?" Ryan almost had to run to keep up with her friend. "What's got you so pissed off?"

Lara all but dragged her into a restaurant. They found a booth in the back and were quiet while waiting for a server. Lara ordered iced teas and sandwiches for them. Ryan, not sure how to read her friend's mood, said nothing.

"Okay, talk to me. What's going on?" Lara looked at her expectantly.

"Nothing. I mean—what are you talking about?"

"Ryan, you are not yourself. As Mitch would say, you're not all here. Now tell me why."

Ryan crossed her arms and sank back into the seat. "I'm just distracted, I guess. Nervous."

"Bullshit."

Ryan stared at the table and huffed out a breath. "I'm fine."

"Did you hear yourself at the sound check? I've never heard you like that. You were hitting every note so hard—like you were trying to club them into submission. Now come on, what's bothering you?"

"It's Brody." Ryan rested her arms on the table and dropped her head into her hands. 

"I figured, but I wanted to make sure."

They stopped talking as the waitress delivered their food. Ryan poked at the chips on her plate but didn't attempt to eat them. When they were alone again, Lara looked at her again, this time with more sympathy. "Have you talked to him?"

"No. I thought about it but I didn't know what to say, and I—I'm not sure he'd talk to me."

"Of course he would, don't be silly." Lara took a bite of her sandwich. "He's probably all messed up, too."

"That's not my fault." Ryan pushed her plate away. "I can't help it that we got the tour. I can't help that I had to go after he made his plans. It's not like I asked him not to go to Michigan."

"Ryan, come on. You don't think you're overreacting just a little?"

"No."

"I think you are."

"I thought you were my best friend. You should be on my side."

Lara snorted out a laugh. "I am on your side, idiot. That's why I'm talking to you."

"You're talking? You keep telling me to talk."

"You are a master of avoidance, did you know that?"

"I talked. What more do you want?"

Lara locked eyes with her. "I want you to figure out what's going on with Brody. I'll help, but I can only help. And yes, I do think you overreacted."

"Why?"

"Look, Ryan, there is a difference between what we're doing and what he's doing. For one thing, you know his schedule months ahead of time. It's different with us. It's all been spur of the moment, and we're gone a month or two at a time with no chance to go home even for a day. Brody's not usually gone more than what, eight or ten days at a time? And you know the dates. What we're doing is tougher on relationships, don't you think?"

"Maybe." Ryan gave a grudging shrug. "Still, I can't help it. We couldn't turn this down."

"Of course not, and he wouldn't want you to. Trout misses me but he didn't want me to turn it down. That's how it goes with people you love. They want you to do things but it doesn't mean they won't be upset or even hurt."

"I miss him," Ryan said in a quiet voice. "I love him, and I even told him that." She kept going, not giving Lara time to comment. "I'm really upset because I want to fix things. Maybe not fix them, but do whatever we can do right now. I just . . . it's not fair that it feels like I'm always apologizing for the band. He's had his chance to do what he loves and he made it. Why should I feel guilty about going after what I want?"

"You shouldn't, and you don't have to apologize. Not for that."

"I know." Ryan closed her eyes and tried to relax; she was tense and her throat felt tight. "I'm just not sure what to do next. I really don't want to lose him."

"Next, you eat." Lara pointed at Ryan's plate. "Then, you calm down and when you're ready, call him. It doesn't have to be today, but don't wait too long. It's obvious you need him, and we need you."

Ryan nodded and dragged her plate back. She needed time to think about it, but she'd call him when she was ready and hope it wasn't too late.

x-x-x-x

Brody was bored. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering just how bored he could get. It was the middle of July and no one was around. Mark was gone for the summer, Bax and his family had returned to Boston and Ryan was on tour. 

Last he'd talked to his parents, they'd suggested he come to Michigan for a while, but he'd said no. There was no reason, he told himself. He was not going to change his plans just because Ryan had left him hanging. 

It wasn't like there was nothing to do. He could hit the museums in Washington, or tour the White House. He'd always meant to visit Arlington Cemetery. He could even go farther afield into Maryland or Virginia and visit historical sites. Which might have held some interest if he liked history, which he didn't.




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 12



With a groan, he sat up. He didn't care about any of that. He cared about Ryan, and it was killing him that they hadn't talked since before she'd left for the tour. How could they fix this if she wouldn't talk to him?

Of course, he thought guiltily, she probably wouldn't talk to him if he didn't make an attempt to talk to her. But when to call? If he called and she was busy, he'd have to leave a message, and that defeated the goal of talking to her.

"Well, this is stupid. It's not like I can't find out." He went to his computer and opened his browser, then navigated to Imaginary Grace's website.

Brody let out a low whistle. "Impressive. They should get Trout to design the team's site." He scrolled down and checked out the information. There were links to the tour schedule, their songs and short bios for Ryan and the others. He skimmed the blog, smiling at the entries as well as the give-and-take between the band and the fans.

Next he went to the media gallery and was astonished by both the amount and organization of the pictures and videos. He clicked through some photos and then watched a video. 

There was Ryan, on stage and happy. Brody watched her play the guitar on one song, keyboard on another. As Evan had said, and as Brody had told Bax, she looked like she was doing what she was meant to do. He sat back and huffed out a breath; how could he have begrudged her this? Yes, it had thrown his summer plans off but wasn't he the type of guy to roll with it, as Steve Winwood had put it?

"Well, Lang, looks like it's time to make new plans." He went back to the tour schedule.

x-x-x-x

A week after Lara's talk, Ryan thought she was ready to talk to Brody. She pulled out her phone and stared at it as though she thought it would bite her. It was stupid, really, to be nervous about a phone, no matter how many apps it had. It wasn't like she was going to activate Skynet. She just wanted to call her boyfriend—if he still was her boyfriend.

It didn't matter, she decided. Boyfriend or not, she couldn't leave things as they were between them. Before she could think about it anymore, she tapped the screen and dialed his number.

"Hello."

"Hi, Brody." She cleared her throat. "It's me. Ryan."

"I know." His voice was teasing and she relaxed a little.

"I hope this is an okay time." Now that she'd contacted him, she was drawing blanks on what to say.

"It's fine. I was just thinking about you. How's everything going?"

"Oh, um, really well. We have a couple of days off before the next show so I'm trying to chill out. I'm not very good at that."

He laughed. "No, you're not."

She struggled for a minute and then the words burst out. "Brody, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left the way I did. You were upset and I should have understood. I'm . . . I'm just really bad at this stuff."

"It's okay," he assured her. "It's not always my strong point, either."

"I know it'll be a while before I'm done with this tour, but I'd like to see you when I am." 

"I'd like that, too."

"What have you been doing?"

"Not much. They cleared me for skating so I've been trying to work out and skate and see how it goes. So far, so good."

"I'm glad." A wave of relief had her falling back on the hotel room bed. "I was—well, I was really worried."

"Yeah, me too. Although I think my mom worried enough for both of us."

"How's your family?"

"Pretty good, I think. Rick is doing a little better, and they've all been pressing me to go visit. I will, just haven't figured out when."

"Tell everyone I said hi. I might see Bax and his family when we play in Boston in a couple of weeks. They said they'll come to the show." She laughed. "I think they may be the only people in the audience there to see us and not Stone Fortress."

"That'll change, don't worry."

Ryan relaxed some more as they talked. Brody asked about the tour, about the headliners and the travel, and she was glad to have someone outside the band to talk to again. By the time they were done, she felt better about everything, if not exactly optimistic.

"I have to go," she said. "Lara's going to come chasing me down for dinner soon if I don't. She's been watching me like a hawk. She even orders for me!"

"Poor you. Having people who care enough to make you eat."

"Yeah, it's a real hassle." She was glad they could joke about things again. "I do eat, you know. Voluntarily even."

"I know, but I know you—ah—forget sometimes, shall we say. Like that time you went something like a day on a Snickers bar?"

"That doesn't happen. Much. And the peanuts were protein."

Brody laughed. "Okay, I give up. But the next time I see you, dinner will be more than a candy bar."

"That'd be great."

They said their goodbyes and Ryan stayed on the bed, staring at the ceiling. That had gone much better than she'd hoped, but it all served to make her more anxious to see him in person. The remaining weeks on the tour stretched out in front of her and she felt like she'd never get home.

x-x-x-x

In the stadium before the Boston show, Brody looked around. The arena wasn't huge but it was a far cry from the 9:30 Club and other venues where he'd seen Imaginary Grace play. He wondered how long it would be before Ryan and the others were headlining a show at a place like this instead of opening.

He was there with Bax and his kids, who were so excited they could barely keep to their seats. Brody watched as they jumped up and took pictures on their phones and texted their friends. 

Bax looked over at them and then back at Brody. "The show hasn't even started yet and look at them."

"Aw, come on. It's cool. How many concerts have you gone to where you knew the people up on stage?"

Bax thought. "My brother's wife's cousin was a roadie for somebody. We went to that show."

Brody laughed. "I don't think that counts."

"Yeah. I never liked that guy anyway."

"The cousin or the performer?"

"Both."

They were quiet for a few minutes then Bax nudged Brody. "Does Ryan know you're here?"

"No. I couldn't decide whether to tell her, then I talked to Lara, and she said it would be better for me to find Ryan after. I don't want to throw her off before her show."

"You guys get everything worked out?"

"We're working on it; I think we're making progress." They would if he had anything to say about it. He hadn't come to Boston to keep the status quo.

"About damn time." Bax scoffed. "I was getting tired of all that whining. I get enough of that from my own kids."

"Thanks, Dad," Brody said in a dry tone.

Brody settled back in his seat. The lights dimmed and he watched Ryan and the others come out on stage. Most of the crowd applauded politely, but Bax's kids were more enthusiastic. Tara whistled so loudly he thought they'd hear it in the next county and Adam let out a yell that belied the size of the boy's lungs.

Lara greeted the crowd, then Ryan turned to Mitch and he counted them in to the first song. Brody had almost forgotten how much fun they were and how good Ryan looked with her guitar. They'd improved, he thought; gotten more comfortable up on stage and they were more in sync with each other. And she looked just as sexy as ever.

The only problem with their set was that it was over too soon. The forty or so minutes felt like no time at all. He watched them leave the stage and couldn't wait until he could see her.

About fifteen minutes after the set ended, as they were waiting for the main act, his phone chirped. 

"Jesus, you're as bad as the kids," Bax told him. "Can't you go anywhere without being connected?"

Before Brody could answer, Bax's phone beeped. The older man cleared his throat while Brody laughed. 

"Shut up." Bax glowered at him.

Brody snickered as he checked his phone, and as he'd hoped, received a text from Lara. He hoped this worked; it had seemed like a good idea but now that it was here, he wasn't sure. Maybe Ryan wasn't up for surprises just now. 

His phone chirped again and he read Lara's message. Don't say anything. She could use a surprise.

Are you a mind reader? he wrote back.

Yes.

x-x-x-x

Ryan covered a yawn as she walked into the hotel lobby. The show had gone well and she was beat. Tired enough, she had decided, to head back to her room while the others hung out somewhere. Her fatigue must have shown, since none of them had made more than a token effort to convince her to go with them.

She pondered that in the elevator. It was unlike Lara to leave her alone these days. Ever since the day Lara had forced Ryan into the restaurant, her friend had stuck close. It wasn't like they'd been joined at the hip, but Lara had made a big effort to keep Ryan's spirits up.

Ryan appreciated it, and it had worked. Talking to Lara, and then to Brody, had reduced a lot of stress for her. Ryan laughed to herself; maybe Lara just wanted a night off babysitting duty. And that was fine, since Ryan wanted some time to herself.

She got off the elevator and walked towards the room, wondering how long she'd have it to herself. She pulled out her room card key, looked up, and almost tripped as she jerked to a stop.

"Hey, rock star." Brody leaned against the wall. 

Ryan swore she felt her synapses screech to a halt as questions tumbled through her brain. She shook her head. "What—what are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood."

"In the neighborhood? In Boston?"

"Actually I was supposed to visit a friend in Springfield, but they gave me horrendous directions."

Ryan gave him a puzzled look. "Springfield is like ninety or a hundred miles from here."

"I meant Springfield, Virginia." He grinned. "I told you they were lousy directions."

She stared at him for a few minutes before giving in to the urge to laugh. "They must have been. But you still didn't tell me why you're here."

"I will. First, let's get your stuff. I've got a room upstairs. I wanted to be with you alone and I'm sure Lara will appreciate having the room to herself. You did say privacy was at a premium when you were on tour."

"It's better this time, but yeah, none of us get a whole lot of alone time." Ryan slid her key card through the reader and opened the door. Trying to make sense of things, she questioned him while she grabbed her toiletries and her rolling suitcase. "So when did you get here?"

"I came up yesterday and stayed with Bax and his family. I went with him and the kids to the show. Doreen says hi, and sorry she couldn't make it." They left the room and went to the elevator with Brody pulling her suitcase. Two floors up they exited and Brody led her to his room.

"You were at the show? Why didn't you tell me before? I mean, before you came?" Ryan stepped inside while he held the door for her.

"I wanted to surprise you. Basically, I missed you; this whole thing of not talking and not seeing each other was getting really old. I talked to Bax, talked to Lara and—voilà—here I am." He closed the door behind him.

"You came all the way up here to surprise me?"

"I was hoping you'd like the surprise. You know, a big romantic gesture and all that." He shrugged. "I haven't done that too often, so I may need to practice a few times to get it right."

A smile tugged at her lips. "I think you're doing pretty well so far."

"I could use a little encouragement."

Ryan laughed and hugged him, but her laughter died quickly and she held on tight. "You're doing great. I've missed you so much." 

"I know. I've missed you, too." They were quiet for a moment as he stroked her hair.

Ryan could only think how good it was to feel him next to her again. The part of her that had been wound so tightly over things between them at last started to relax.

"How was the trip up here? Did you fly or drive?" she asked as she sat on the bed.

Brody made a face as he sat next to her. "I drove and I will never do it again. People around here drive like maniacs. Bax says the local term is 'Massholes.'" 

Ryan laughed. "I've heard. We had more than a few close calls ourselves getting here."

"I thought D.C. drivers were bad, but man, it's downright scary around here." 

"I'm sorry you had to risk death and dismemberment to come see me," Ryan said. 

"I'd do it again, a thousand times over." He stood and made an exaggerated bow before he swept her into his arms for a kiss. Ryan returned it, reveling in the feel of his body against hers.

"Oh, man." Brody groaned as he reluctantly pulled away. "That is so nice, but we should talk."

"I thought that was the woman's line." 

"It's my line because I screwed things up so bad before you left." He rested his forehead against hers. "I'm really sorry, Ryan. I was—am—happy for you, I was just surprised. I was upset, and I said all the wrong things. I'd blame it on the concussion but I was pretty over it by then."

She smiled. "I didn't exactly corner the market on the right things to say."

"Here's an idea: let's just say now that we're both really sorry, we both need to handle things better, and it's done and we're back together and all that. Then we can move on to practicing how we make up." He slid his hands down to her hips and pulled her closer to him.

She chuckled and he grinned. "I like the sound of that, but—" She glanced away and then back at him. "But what about later? These same issues are going to come up again, the traveling and everything."

"True, true. And like you said, we were just saying the same things. So I have two new things to say."

Ryan waited, but Brody seemed stuck, which in turn made her nervous. She tried to keep her voice light. "Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?"

"I'm not sure which order I should say this in."

"It doesn't matter."

"I love you." He huffed out a breath. "There, that's one."

Ryan let out a shaky laugh. "Was it so bad? Because I love you, too, you know."

"Whew. I was hoping I hadn't missed the window on that." They both laughed.

"What's the next thing?"

"I was thinking about your apartment search and all. What, ah, would you say to moving in with me?"

"Really?" Ryan was flustered. "I mean, it sounds great, but I don't want you to feel like you have to say that. I want to be with you, but you don't—"

"I know I don't." He kissed her again, softly. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't want it, or mean it. Just think about it—we'd be able to be together more. Or at least, we could take more advantage of the time we'd have, and that sounds like a good idea to me."

"Me, too." Ryan wrapped her arms around him. "A great idea."

"I want to be with you, Ryan. I know we both weren't looking for anything serious, but it got serious and I don't want that to change."

"Neither do I."

"And if that offer to meet with you while you tour still stands, I like it. We can set up secret, illicit rendezvous and meet in back alleys behind sleazy hotels." He wiggled his eyebrows. "We can use code words and everything."

Ryan put her head on his chest and laughed. "I really don't think that'll be necessary. I'm not ashamed about being seen with a hockey player in public."

"That's g—hey!"

"Gotcha." She laughed and then kissed him. "That would mean a lot to me, Brody, if you could do that."

"All right then, that's all settled. Now . . . hmmm. I had an idea, but you need to go somewhere else."

"Go? I'm not going anywhere."

"Just for a minute. Just wait in the hallway or something."

"I don't think so." Ryan shook her head. "I need a shower, will that get me out of the way long enough?"

"Oh, hey, now that's a good idea. I could change up."

"No, no, I want to see what you have planned." Ryan grabbed her bag and dropped it on the bed, then rummaged through it to find some clothes. In the process, she tossed the purple rabbit Brody had given her on the bed.

"You have this with you?" He picked it up and looked at her in surprise.

"Yeah." She bit her lip. "Yeah, it's my good luck charm. I kept it with me on the last tour, too. I know we got upset and everything, but, well, I didn't want to be without it." She picked up her clothes and put the bag back on the floor. "I won't be long."

"Take your time," Brody said with a smile.

Ryan stood under the water, letting it run over her as she tried to get a grip on her feelings. She couldn't believe Brody was there; she half-expected that it was some kind of dream, and she'd exit the bathroom into an empty room. Don't be ridiculous, she told herself. You're tired, not delusional. 

She turned her thoughts to wondering what Brody's surprise would be. Probably food, she thought with a laugh. She wouldn't be at all surprised to step out and find that he'd ordered a four-course meal. Hell, if the room had had a kitchen, he'd probably have cooked one.

She finished her shower and dried off, sighing in contentment as she slipped into the long t-shirt she slept in. She took a few moments to towel her hair dry and comb it, then went to the door. 

"You ready? I'm coming out," she called.

"I'm ready."

Ryan stepped out and looked around. No food. Then her eyes went wide and she gaped.

"What?" He grinned up at her.

She cleared her throat. "I, um. I wasn't sure what to expect." 

Brody lay on the bed naked but for her purple rabbit, strategically placed. She couldn't wait to join him, but the rabbit had a somewhat dampening effect on the mood. Fighting to keep a straight face she asked, "What are you doing with my rabbit? It seems like that should be illegal."

"I didn't have a guitar with me."

"Ah. I see." She covered her mouth with her hands but was losing her struggle with laughter.

Brody propped himself on one elbow and arched an eyebrow. "Ryan, I did not come all the way to Boston so that you could laugh at me."

"I'm sorry, but a toy purple rabbit doesn't exactly contribute to a romantic atmosphere." She gave up and leaned against the wall, laughing and wiping her eyes.

"Oh, well." He tossed the plush toy on to the other bed. "How's that?"

Ryan fell onto the bed next to him. "Much better."

"Yes, it is." Brody smiled and pulled her to him. "I really did miss you." He rubbed his cheek against hers.

"Hey, wait." Ryan reached up and put a hand to his face. "You shaved your beard."

"Yeah." He pressed a kiss to her palm. "I wondered when you'd notice."

Ryan laughed. "I didn't mind, you know."

"Cool. I'll grow another one next year. Maybe you'll like it better."

She kissed him. "So you think we'll still be here next year?"

"Well maybe not here specifically, but I like to think there's a good chance we'll still be together. You?"

"I can go along with that." Ryan traced a finger along his jaw. "You think you can handle a musician girlfriend? Temperamental artist and all that?"

He caught her hand and held it. "I think I can manage. How about you? I thought you didn't like athletes."

"I don't, much, but some of them are okay. You know, like Bax and Mark." She giggled at the look on his face. "And you, you're okay, too."

"Just okay?" He inched his fingers up under her shirt. 

"I'm willing to revise my opinion."

"See, I knew you weren't that temperamental." He found her lips again, then pulled away. "Hey, I just thought of something."

"What?"

"If we live together, you can be naked with the guitar all the time!"

Ryan laughed. "Better that than you naked with the rabbit."

"I knew you'd let me live out one fantasy."



Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 01



"Thanks."

He held the door back as she shuffled in, and kept a hand on it as her friend followed. Once inside, Ryan leaned against the wall and sighed in relief. Her friend did likewise.

"Thanks," Ryan said again. "That was so much easier. Brody, this is my best friend, Lara Cohen. Lara, this is Brody Lang."

"Hi. Nice to meet you." Lara smiled and shook his hand. 

Brody gestured at their bags. "Hi. You look loaded down. Can I take something?" 

"Absolutely!" Lara handed him the handle of the case with an exaggerated sigh. "Ryan, you really need a smaller instrument. Like a piccolo." She shook out her arms.

"What is this?" Brody asked.

"My keyboard." Ryan shifted the bags on her shoulders and pushed away from the wall, then balanced on her crutches. She turned to Lara. "Thanks. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"You better." Lara pretended to scowl, then smiled. "Are you good here? I was going to head to Trout's, but I could help you get that upstairs."

Ryan turned to Brody. "Would you mind taking that up to my place? If you have the time, I mean."

"No problem. I can get the guitar, too, if you want."

"Thanks." She slid it off her shoulder, handed it to him and turned to Lara. "Looks like you're free to go fishing."

"Oh, you're hilarious, Ryan." Lara shook her head, then blew blond curls out of her face. "Nice to meet you, Brody, really. Ryan's told me a lot about you." Ryan glared but Lara ignored her.

"No kidding?" Brody looked from one to the other, and decided to say no more.

"No kidding." Lara laughed. "Take it easy, Ryan. I'll talk to you tomorrow." She went back out the door as Ryan waved.

"Never mind her," Ryan told him as they walked to the elevator. "She just likes to put me on the spot. It's a best-friend thing."

"Guys do that, too, but it usually involves beer first." 

Ryan laughed as the elevator doors open. Brody stood aside to let her in first, then pressed the button for her floor. 

"So," he asked, "what's in there?" He gestured at her laptop bag.

Ryan stared down for a moment, then looked back up. "How melodramatic does it sound if I say it's my hopes and dreams? My passion?"

"Sounds cool, actually," Brody said. He held the door open as Ryan shuffled into the hallway, then grabbed the keyboard case handle again and followed her out. "You pack them very efficiently."

Ryan laughed. "It's just a laptop, but that laptop has my life's work on it."

"Well, now I have to ask: what's your life's work?"

She gave him a half-smile as she unlocked her door. "My music, my songs. I want to see my name in lights, play Carnegie Hall, all of that stuff. Well, Madison Square Garden anyway." She pushed the door open and swung herself inside. 

Brody followed, taking time to look around. He'd barely noticed anything about her apartment when he'd helped her with the groceries almost a week ago. Now he saw the vacant keyboard stand in the living room and an acoustic guitar propped up in one corner, along with a small amplifier and an empty guitar stand. There were guitar strings in packages and broken ones strewn on the counter, and he saw some cables in a pile on the floor.

"Wow, you're serious about it, aren't you?" He set the case he was carrying down by the keyboard stand at Ryan's direction and set the guitar case in the corner.

"I try to be." Ryan set her purse down. She wobbled as she tried to struggle out of her jacket and put the laptop bag down at the same time and gave Brody a grateful smile when he took the bag and set it down. He put it on the table gingerly, seized by the odd feeling that her dreams might break.

"What kind of music do you play?" he asked. 

"Think of The Hold Steady meets Veruca Salt."

"That sounds really cool." 

"We hope so. Here, I can clear off a spot for you." She glanced back as she made her way to the sofa. "Sorry it's a mess. Lara spends a lot of time at her boyfriend's and I get busy and forget to straighten up."

"That would be . . . Trout?" Brody recalled the earlier conversation.

"Yep. No idea how he got the name, but that's her boyfriend." Ryan shook her head. "He's a nice guy, really, but I just give her a hard time. I figure it's only fair, since I have to hear about all the drama. And there's plenty of that."

"Drama has its fun aspects."

"No thanks."

"Well, takes all kinds."

Ryan laughed and gave Brody an apologetic smile as her phone rang and she answered it. He shook his head in silent understanding and started to look through some CDs that lay on the coffee table.

* * *

"Hi, Mom," Ryan said.

"Hi, sweetie. How are you? I've been worried about you. Maybe you should come home while you heal up." 

"I'm fine, Mom. Really, I'm fine. I promise." Ryan stared at the ceiling. "The insurance is covering it. I can come off the crutches this week, and they'll give me a soft cast for a week or so."

"I called you last night but you didn't answer. Were you all right?" 

"I was fine. I was with the band last night. I didn't hear my phone and when I checked messages it was too late to call back." Mentally, Ryan sighed; she knew she'd left at least two messages telling her mom where she'd be.

"All right, hon, so long as you're okay. Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, we got a lot accomplished." Ryan hated the way her parents dismissed the band as a hobby, as something to pass the time. They had no idea, she thought, of how hard she and the others were working. "In fact," Ryan continued, "I was going to call you later. Lara's been working hard and it's paid off. We're going to be headlining at the 9:30 Club in a couple of months."

"What day will that be?"

"I'll have to double check with Lara but I'll let you know," Ryan said. She steeled herself against what was probably coming and wondered why she'd bothered to hope it would be different.

"I don't know, hon." Her mom tsked. "JT might be playing that night, especially if it's a weekend. I'm never sure of his schedule, and you know how your dad wants to go to the away games. Still, someone will probably record it, right? You can show us later, at home. It'll be so much calmer."

"Mom, this really means a lot to me." Ryan forced her voice to be even. "We have new material that I think will go over well, and like I said, Lara's been trying like crazy to get us this booking."

"I'm sure she has, Ryan. You know how much it means to JT, though, to have us there, and how your father enjoys it."

"It will be in December," Ryan said through gritted teeth. "JT's season will be over." Why? she thought, furious. Why does sports always trump anything else? 

"Now, Ryan, you know how your father and I feel about those places you play. We're not comfortable there."

Ryan sighed. "Mom, you could sit with friends of mine that you know. No one would make you feel uncomfortable."

"Ryan," her mother said in a voice that was both soothing yet distant, "we wish we could go to everything you and the boys do, but that's just not possible."

"Right." Ryan dropped her head. She was angry but tired and didn't want to talk anymore. "Look, Mom, I have to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow." She waited—just barely—until her mother said good-bye, then clicked the phone shut.

Why do I do this to myself, she wondered as she stood resting on the crutches. She stared at the wall as though the answer might appear in the eggshell paint. It was useless and she knew it. Hadn't years of the same thing taught her anything? Hadn't she learned over the past twenty-three years what the answer would be? She stared at the phone in her hand. Apparently not.

"You'd come if I had a dick and was hitting some stupid ball." She glared at the phone. When she heard a noise behind her, she started and turned to see Brody stifling a laugh.

Ryan gaped; she had forgotten Brody was there. It hit her that he'd heard not only the conversation, but her last comment as well. She felt the blush start at her toes and race to her face with lightning speed.

"Oh. Oh, my God." Ryan bit her lip. "I am so sorry. I forgot . . . I didn't realize . . . oh, crap." She dropped the crutches to the floor and leaned against the wall. "Shit."

"It's not that bad," she heard him say around a chuckle. "I used to argue with my parents all the time."

Ryan looked at the floor, lost for words. She wanted to curl up on the couch and be mortified in private. Later, when she felt up to it, she'd hammer out some awful song on the keyboard to get it out of her system. After that, she could go back to more productive music. In a few days, she might even be able to look at him again.

"Look," she said when she managed to find her voice again, "I'm sorry, really. Thanks for everything, but . . . ." She pushed herself off the wall and leaned down for her crutches, nearly falling in the process.

"Whoa, whoa." Brody caught her around the waist and she grabbed at his shoulders on a reflex. "Are you all right?" he asked when she had her balance.

"I'm fine. I am!" she protested when he gave her a skeptical glance. "It's just family drama, that's all. It's a cycle, I'm used to it. I'll get over it. I just need some comfort food and a nice dark movie and I'll be good."

"What kind of comfort food?" 

Ryan studied him, looking for any signs of a joke, but found none. His golden-brown eyes were serious. Or, she amended, as serious as Brody Lang was likely to get.

"Sushi."

"Sushi?" 

Ryan noticed that he still had his hands on her waist. Not sure just what she thought about that, she stayed still.

"Yes, sushi." She gave him a wry grin. "No one else in my family can stand it, so I guess it's my way of getting back at them. When I get ticked off at my family, I go get sushi."

"All right." Brody nodded and stepped back. He made sure she was steady, then leaned down and picked up her crutches. "So, where are we going?"

"Excuse me? We?"

"Why not?" Brody flashed her a lazy, sexy grin that unsettled her just a little. "You look like you could use a little time to cool down, and I haven't had dinner. I'd make something, but I already know you don't keep real food around here."

"Are you hitting on me?" Ryan asked as she got her crutches under her. "Because if you are, you picked a bad time. I'm not great company right now." She made her way to the kitchen, where she'd left her purse.

"Well, if I'm seeing you at your worst, then it can only get better." He stepped in front of her and caught her eyes. "This is your worst, right?"

She scoffed. "You're lucky that was just a phone call."

* * *

Ryan eyed the pile of ginger Brody had piled on top of his sushi roll. "You're going to destroy your sinuses with that," she said, gesturing at the pink strips.

"Nah." Brody grinned. "Ginger's nothing compared to the smelling salts we use during games." He took a bit of wasabi and placed it on top of the ginger. "Well," he said in response to Ryan's skeptical look, "if you're going to eat it, you might as well do it right."

"I'd prefer to keep my taste buds intact." Ryan shook her head. She picked up a roll with her chopsticks, dipped it in the soy sauce and placed it in her mouth.

"So, tell me about your band," Brody said. "I think that's so cool. I am completely musically un-inclined. I couldn't even play the triangle."

"What do you want to know?"

"How about the name? Seems like a good place to start."

"Well, we thought about Fugitive Vampires, but that just sounded too pretentious." She looked at him, concerned as he coughed. "You okay? Want some water? I told you that was too much ginger."

He took the water and after a deep breath, took a careful drink. "Thanks," he said. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting that. You don't look like the Fugitive Vampires type."

"Oh, no?" Ryan raised an eyebrow. "You never saw me during my Goth phase."

"You never had a Goth phase."

"Want to bet?" She tapped her earlobes. "That's where the piercings came from. I left my hair alone, but I did the black clothes, the black nail polish. It lasted about a month. Too much trouble to maintain." 

"Good decision." Brody started to load up another sushi roll. "Anyway, you're distracting me. You guys must have a name."

She smiled. "Imaginary Grace."

He paused, considering, then nodded. "I like it."

"Thanks. So do I. Lara, our singer, she has a thing for eighties' music. You may not know it, but it's from 'Melt with You' by Modern English." 

"Oh, hey, I know that song." Brody grinned. "From the Taco Bell commercial."

Ryan laughed. "That's the one." She shook her head. "It took a long time to settle on that. When we first started in college Lara came up with a new one almost every day."

"What were some of the others?"

"Oh, God, I can hardly remember. I tried not to let them stick in my head. Pink Pandas was one, I think; she'd just been to the zoo for some breast cancer event and tried to combine them." She smiled at the memory. "I didn't even need to offer an opinion on that. The guys pretty much keeled over when they heard it."

"I think I can understand. That's . . . pretty bad." Brody ate some more sushi. "How long have you been at it?"

Ryan laughed. "Forever? No, not quite. Lara and I have been friends since high school, and when we did a music project for a class, we found we worked well together. So we kept at it. We wanted to be in a band, though, not just the two of us. One day we were talking about it in our psych class in college, and Nate—he's our bassist—heard us talking. Anyway, he said he was interested. It kind of went from there."

"How many of you are there in the band?" Brody took a drink of the sake.

Ryan sat back. "Five. We have a drummer, Mitch; he was Nate's roommate in college. Our first guitarist was a friend of Nate's, but that guy went to grad school, and we haven't had a steady one since then. But guitarists are a dime a dozen."

He stared at her. "Really?"

"No." She shook her head and smiled. "Not really. But there are a lot of them out there and most of them think they're the next Jimmy Page or Jimi Hendrix. Jason's okay."

"You guys all get along? I mean, it's a team effort, right?"

"Most times." Ryan took another sushi roll. "It's not always easy. Jason's still . . . working on fitting in."

Brody nodded but didn't say anything more, wanting to keep things light while they ate. Ryan seemed to be a lot more relaxed than when they'd left.

He hadn't planned on asking Ryan out, especially after that phone call. Brody knew a lot of people preferred to be alone when they were angry; he was a prime example. Ryan, though, had looked more hurt and sad than angry. Brody knew he wasn't the most perceptive guy, but he'd seen her expression and hadn't been able to just leave. 

And you think she's cute, he told himself. Well, perhaps not exactly "cute." She was attractive, no question, but had a little bit of an edge that made cute seem too soft a word.

"So," Ryan said, "My turn. What's it like playing hockey for a living?"

Brody had to grin. "It's fantastic. I absolutely love it. I don't think I ever wanted to do anything else, and so to get to the NHL . . . sometimes I still can't believe it."

"Your parents must be proud."

"I hope so." He nodded. "They did a lot for me, taking me to practices, paying for equipment, anything I needed. They can't get to many games—they live in rural Michigan and I have younger siblings—but they watch. They were really supportive. You can't get to this level without that support, at least not most times."

"That's great." Ryan's tone was neutral and she stared past him. 

Brody wondered if he'd said anything wrong, but couldn't think what.

"Sorry." Ryan gave him a rueful half-smile. "Told you I wasn't the best company tonight."

"That's okay." They ate in silence for a while, and then Brody asked, "So, what movie are we watching?"

"We again?" Ryan sipped at her sake. "I'm not sure I recall inviting you."

"I'm not sure you're ready to be left alone yet," Brody said. "Besides, I like movies."

"You don't know what kind of movies I like," Ryan pointed out.

"Let me think." Brody made a show of studying her. "Well, let's see. You said a dark movie, didn't you? I'm thinking something with Schwarzenegger and a lot of explosions. Or maybe something like 28 Days Later, that was pretty dark."

"You think so?" Ryan rested her chin in her hand. Her eyes glinted. "You willing to take a chance? What if I like some surreal, Lars von Trier type of stuff?"

Brody raised an eyebrow. "You asking me to see a movie?"

"You have no idea who von Trier is, do you?"

"Nope, but it doesn't matter. Question still stands."

Ryan leaned back and tapped her fingers on the table. "Sure, why not? Think you can handle it?"

"Ooooh, a dare." Brody widened his eyes. "I can't back down now. Tell you what: if I absolutely can't stand the movie and leave, I'll take you out for sushi some time. If I make it through the whole thing, you have to play me one of your songs."

"Hey, wait," Ryan said, startled. "I don't remember offering to make any bets."

"Chicken?" 

"No!" 

"Then what?" Brody asked. He couldn't help it; it was fun to see her get a little shaken up.

"Why can't the bet be that I take you out?" she countered. 

"Doesn't work that way." Brody shook his head. "if I have to take a chance, so do you." He grinned. "If you don't like playing in front of people, that should make your gig next month interesting."

"I'm fine in front of people." Ryan nodded. "Fine, you've got a bet."

"Cool." Brody reached over and squeezed her hand, surprising both of them. To cover his discomfort, he stood and gave her a sly smile. "Now, how about that movie?"

* * *

Brody stared at the screen. "This is what you watch when you're upset?"

"I warned you." Ryan reached into the bag of chips. "You're the one who wanted to make the bet."

"You are . . . different," Brody said. "I mean, most girls I know, they'd be sniffling through The Notebook or something. Eating a gallon of ice cream and watching Titanic. When you said dark, I figured some horror movie or something."

"I didn't break up with a boyfriend," Ryan told him, "and I don't like sappy films like The Notebook. Titanic was an overlong piece of dreckK. I was angry, and when I'm angry, I prefer darker things. I told you."

"No kidding." Brody watched as an unarmed Brandon Lee, in harlequin face paint, faced off with a man in a black leather coat who prided himself on his skills with knives. There was no contest, and soon Lee was wearing the leather coat.

"It's cool, you have to admit." Ryan looked up at him. "The cinematography is great, and the music is awesome."

"But The Crow?" He shook his head. "Do all musicians harbor dreams of violent revenge?"

Ryan couldn't help it; she giggled. "Only after phone calls from family."

Brody gave her a sidelong glance. "Want to talk about it?"

"No, thanks." Ryan's laughter fled and she kept her gaze fixed on the screen. After a moment, she softened and looked at him. "Thanks, but not now."

Brody nodded, slid down a little on the couch and put an arm around Ryan's shoulders. She debated for a moment, then shifted so her leg was propped up on the table, and rested her head on his shoulder.

As the credits began to roll, Brody looked down at her. "Okay, I stayed. Your turn."

Ryan pushed herself up to sitting. "I don't know. You liked the movie, that might invalidate the terms."

"You trying to welsh on the bet?"

Ryan lifted her chin. "Absolutely not. Do you want me to play, or to hear one of the demos on the computer?

"Are you kidding? A choice of a live performance versus tape? I'll take live any day."

"Okay. You asked for it."

"Do you have a preference? Keyboards or guitar?" 




Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 01



"You can play both?" Brody gave a low whistle. "I'm impressed."

"I started on the piano, then moved to guitar. I play both for the band. We have songs with two guitars and keyboards, though, and I didn't want to give those up by giving up the keyboards." She tapped a few more keys on the computer. "That's why I didn't just take over as lead guitarist in the band, and why we seem to keep looking for new guitarists."

"Gotcha. Can I go with the keyboard?" Brody helped her up and she made her way over to the synth case. 

"Sure. Could you give me a hand?" Ryan gestured at the case. "Sorry, it's a pain to get that out by myself right now."

"No problem." Brody nodded and helped her get her synth set up, then handed her the laptop bag at her request.

Ryan smiled but kept her eyes down as she scrolled through her files. She didn't know why she was so unsettled. She ran things by the band all the time, and sometimes by some other friends uninvolved in music so that she could get a more objective opinion. Choosing something now seemed like an impossible task, even though she knew this was half a joke. At last she found something and settled herself on the seat.

"Okay, but I have to tell you—Lara writes the lyrics and sings, I write the music. So I don't have any words for this one. But I'll play the vocal melody with my right hand." She played a quick scale to warm up. 

Brody nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Ryan sat, took a deep breath, stared at the keys and pretended no one else was there. She wasn't sure she'd manage otherwise, which annoyed her but she ignored that, too. She'd played in front of people countless times. Then she realized she wanted him to like it. That bothered her enough that she forgot to be nervous and began playing. At the moment, it was a mid-tempo song, but that might change with Lara's input. 

When she was done, she forced herself to look up. "So, what did you think?"

He was staring at her and she couldn't interpret his expression.

"Ah, okay." Ryan turned on the bench and started to haul herself upright. "I wasn't sure about it, anyway. You don't have to keep staring at me like that." It was unnerving and she wanted him to stop. She tried giving him a grin. "See, you shouldn't have made that bet."

"You wrote that."

She nodded, unsure if he was asking or not. His eyes were fixed on her and it was an effort to keep moving. As she tried to take a hopping step towards the couch, she stumbled and Brody caught her.

"Sorry," she said, then cleared her throat. Why am I so nervous? "I seem to do that a lot."

"Ryan, that was . . . that was amazing." Brody grinned and she relaxed. "I mean, I listen to music. I know people write notes and lyrics, but I've never, you know, seen it in action."

"It's still a work in progress." She felt better that Brody liked the song, but she didn't know quite what to say.

"Well then, I can't wait to hear the finished product."

"Okay. Um, cool. Do you mind if I sit down now?" 

"What? Oh, sorry." Brody helped her over to an empty chair.

"Thanks, I've got it." Ryan looked up when he kept his hands around her waist. "What?"

"I want to kiss you, and it'd be easier if you were standing."

Alarms went off in Ryan's head, and she put her hands on his arms, applying enough pressure that he stepped back, although he didn't let go.

She cleared her throat. "That's flattering, Brody, but I don't think that's a good idea."

"No?" He thought. "Hmmm. You're a hard sell. Let's move to the bedroom where I can make a better pitch." 

Ryan couldn't help but laugh. "Whoa, there, tiger. I didn't have that much sake." 

Brody grinned. "We could get more."

She smiled but shook her head, regretting the words as they came out but knowing she had to say them. "I'm serious, Brody. I appreciate everything you did—going out, keeping me from getting too angry, listening to my music. It was really sweet. But . . . okay, I might be assuming here, but I'm not looking for anything else."

She hoped she hadn't assumed too much. For all she knew, he'd wanted a friendly peck on the cheek. However, she didn't think she was that inept at reading a guy's signals and so had guessed he'd wanted a bit more. She couldn't tell if he looked disappointed or not as he studied her.

"Hmmm." His non-reply didn't calm her nerves. 

"And what does that mean?" She tried to keep her tone light. 

"Nothing. Just means I'll have to find a new plan." Brody shrugged and helped her sit, then sat himself on the couch opposite. "You're not the usual girl I meet."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Is that a compliment?" It was a relief to sit, as her ankle was throbbing. 

"An observation, but not an insult, I promise." Brody paused, then flashed a grin once more. "You sure you don't want to try a kiss? I'm told I'm pretty good."

Ryan snorted. "Brody, trust me when I say that telling a woman you've had a lot of experience with other women is not necessarily a good selling point."

"Ouch!" Brody put a hand over his chest. 

Once again, Ryan couldn't stifle a laugh. "I'm sure you'll recover. But you'll recover alone." She emphasized the last word as he was about to speak, sure that another half-serious proposition was on the way. "Thanks again, Brody."

"You're welcome." He reached over and squeezed her arm. "I had a good time, really. And thanks for the song. That was so cool."

Ryan warmed at the remark. "Thanks, I'm glad you liked it."

"Okay, I'm out of here." He stood and helped her as she got out of the chair and grabbed her crutches. "We have a game tomorrow in New York. You going to watch?"

"I'll try." Ryan walked with him to the door. "We're rehearsing tomorrow. But I'll check in, at least."

"Good enough. Take it easy, Ryan."

"You too, and good luck tomorrow."

She locked the door behind him and yawned as she made her way around, turning out lights. One advantage to Lara spending so much time with Trout was that Ryan wasn't tied to anyone else's schedule and so could sleep, or not, as she liked. Tonight she was beat, and bed beckoned.

Her mind replayed the night's events as she got ready for bed. Lara, she knew, would flip when she found out that Ryan had rejected Brody's advances. Well, that could be fun, Ryan thought. She could string Lara along a bit before telling her how it turned out. It was fun to wind her friend up like that, and it wasn't like Lara didn't do the same.

He's nice, thought Ryan, but there's just too much stuff in the way.