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Chapter Ten

After our petty little argument, I am hesitant to knock on Rhys's dressing room door. I'm assuming he is in here because both Will and I couldn't find him anywhere else. So, here goes nothing!

Knock! Knock!

"Come in!" His voice sounds casual enough, which instantly puts me at ease. As I enter, he's just putting his guitar back in its case. "Hey." Is his calm welcome.

"Hey." Is my calm and relieved reply back. I honestly have no idea how Rhys Ryan manages to annoy the hell out of me one minute, then intimidate me the next, but he totally does.

Remaining seated on the small dressing room sofa, his smile is one that invites me to sit down beside him. "I thought we could finish off the interview now because there won't be any other time to do it otherwise?"

A little surprised for him to not say anything about earlier, I inwardly kick start my professional self. "Um, yes, of course." Fumbling with the vast array of things inside of my bag, I finally find my trusty dictaphone. "Here it is." I announce, blowing away a flustered breath.

Holding it in my lap, I look down to press the RECORD button. It's then that my fingers become immobilised by Rhys's hand being firmly wrapped around mine. "Before we do this, I need to apologise."

Stunned, I rapidly blink up at him. "For what?"

"For being a total jerk." His reply comes out quickly—nervously quickly.

Wanting to put him instantly at ease, I smile. "That's okay." I say, keeping my accepting smile firmly upon my face.

Rhys squeezes my hand, lowering his apologetic eyes before looking back up at me. "It's not okay."

Bringing my other hand onto his, I try to reassure him once again. "Honestly, it's fine."

A stillness seems to blanket us both. An exchanging of a silent something being confusingly passed between us. With his searching sage spheres, Rhys speaks in the softest of voices. "Let's just agree to disagree about it, shall we?" A humorous lilt is carried within his gentle tone.

Infusing my reply with the same humour, I quietly say. "Agreed." Very much aware that our hands are still wrapped around each other's, I do what I didn't feel I could do earlier on. "Are you okay?" There, I've finally asked him.

Gratefully smiling, he slowly nods. "I am now."

Leaning in slightly, I feel confident enough to ask him something else. "Did I upset you in some way back at the studio?"

Lowering his head with a smile, he gently shakes it with a slow side to side action. "Of course not."

Feeling like I need to explain, I do. "It's just that when me and Cameron came back into the studio, you looked at us strangely."

Sitting taller, he pulls his hand from the warmth of both of mine. "I had just received a call from my mom, a call that pissed me off. You guys just walked in at the wrong time, that's all."

Looking carefully at Rhys, I can tell he's not a guy who opens up all that much. He seems uncomfortable admitting the truth to me. Without actually touching him, I try to keep the warm openness between us, still there. "Want to talk about it?" I gently knock against his shoulder, offering him a genteel smile.

His own smile wavers with quiet conflict, struggling to know how to reply back to me. "It's private, Clara."

Although his words are said without malice or anger, I realise that he doesn't trust me. His rejection of my offer to confide in me, actually hurts more than I ever could imagine. Swallowing the lump of hurt quickly back down, I try to vocalise just how unhurt I am. Not looking at him, I start rambling. Irrational and hurt, rambling. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even asked. You barely know me. I barely know you. You're you. I'm a journalist. Of course you wouldn't trust me."