Page 89 of #Moonstruck

“I would have smacked her, but I didn’t want to get skank on my hands,” I muttered to Angie.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve witnessed that much girl-on-girl crime. I can’t believe how awful she is. I always thought she was so nice.”

We walked in the opposite direction from Skyler and her crew and found a table.

Angie smiled as she sat. “Now I wish Ryan had been here. To personally witness how possessive you are over your man.”

I finished chewing a bite of my extremely delicious hamburger. “He doesn’t belong to me. It’s not like he’s the box set ofBuffy the Vampire Slayer. She is awful. Don’t you remember what she did to Katsia Evanovich?”

Angie pursed her lips together and shook her head.

“Katsia and Skyler had some kind of falling-out, and when Katsia released her debut album, Skyler released her own secret album the same day. To kill Katsia’s numbers.” Katsia’s album had failed, and she hadn’t put out another song since.

Even though I’d blown off her threats, remembering what she did to Katsia made me reconsider. What if she did the same thing to me? Singled out my band and me and did everything she could to wreck our careers? She had a lot of influence. Not only with fans but also with important people in the music industry. It would kill my brothers if she ruined our chance before we even really had one.

It would kill me.

“Are you going to tell Ryan?”

“At the first opportunity.”

Maybe he would be able to undo some of the damage that Hurricane Skyler was about to inflict on me.

I didn’t tell Ryan right away. The next couple of days were a blur. When he wasn’t working, Ryan took me on multiple dates. Out to eat, to a private beach, even to the movies. (He’d had to rent out the whole theater so our date wouldn’t be interrupted by someone trying to steal a lock of his hair.)

I even got the chance to introduce him to my mother. Who flirted shamelessly with Ryan. It was humiliating, but he was amazing about the whole thing. I wished she understood, and would remember, how important he was to me.

Erika Chang, the designer, came and took my measurements. She reminded me a lot of myself. Just starting out, determined to make a name in the fashion industry. I was excited to wear the dress and to tell everyone that she had designed it. She promised to get me some shoes and a purse, too. She had everything delivered by messenger.

Then it was the night of the US Music Awards. Ryan offered to hire someone to do my hair and makeup, but given that I’d done actual training in that sort of thing, I felt like I had a good handle on it. I did my eye makeup heavier than normal, wanting to emphasize the color. As for the rest of my makeup, considering all the bright lights that would be there, I made it more stage appropriate. I had originally planned on leaving my hair down, but given that the dress was basically backless, I put it up in a braided chignon. Which is much easier to do on someone else than it was on myself.

When I reached the top of the stairs, Ryan was waiting for me at the bottom. Smiling up at me like some hero out of a movie. My heart stopped entirely and then started slowly with a low, hard thudding. He wore a slate-gray, perfectly tailored designer suit and gave a whole new meaning to the worddelicious. His five-o’clock shadow kept him from looking too preppy, lending him a slightly wild edge. Made him a little bit rock and roll. He was just so perfect-looking. Like he’d been artificially created and brought to life by some mad spinster scientist. He turned my knees hollow. I grabbed the bannister for support.

“Wow. Look at you. I’m unable to form a single coherent thought,” he said, his eyes devouring me.

“You just did.”

“That’s the only one. Everything else in my brain is just ... wow.”

I knew the feeling.

We had a limo for the event, and, given his current expression, I warned Ryan not to mess up my makeup on the car ride over.

“Not even a little?” he asked.

“It’s my first red carpet, and I’m already nervous enough. I don’t want to have to worry about that, too.”

So he settled for kissing me on my neck and shoulders, which I did not object to.

We waited in a line of limos, giving me time to get more and more nervous.

“You’ll be fine. They’ll love you,” Ryan said in between kisses that were not nearly as soothing as his words.

Then it was our turn.

“Follow my lead.” Ryan got out first, and I could tell the moment the crowd figured out it was him. The screams were deafening. He held out his hand to me, and I took it.

Photographers’ flashes surrounded us, making it hard to see. Ryan pulled me up the red carpet, waving and smiling as we went. I clung to his arm, feeling like I’d entered some undiscovered country.

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