“Really?”
He nodded. “You said yourself that you haven’t been able to see much of Savannah.”
“That’s the truth.”
Opening his arms wide, he said, “Then let me show you all that my beautiful hometown has to offer.”
“Okay. Sure, why not? Just let me throw my book inside and get my keys.”
Always the gentleman, Rhys bent over and picked up the Chanel biography that had gotten knocked to the floor during my fall. “Thanks for getting that,” I said, when he handed it to me.
“You’re welcome, Allie-Bean.” When I started in the house, he grabbed my arm. “Mind if I see inside?”
“Of course not. I guess it was rude of me not to ask you inside.”
“Don’t worry about standing on ceremony with me, Allison.”
I smiled and held the door open for him. I could tell he was impressed when he stepped inside the foyer. I’m sure it paled in comparison to the mansion he’d been raised in, but it was quite an impressive older home—the kind that Savannah was famous for.
“This place is huge when you get inside,” he remarked.
“Yeah, my bedroom even has a sitting area in it. The one way that it’s just like the dorms is I have to share a bathroom with one of the other girls.” After tossing my book down on one of the marble top tables in the living room, I grabbed my purse and slid it on my shoulder. “Ready.”
Rhys turned from craning his head up the staircase to eye me curiously. “Don’t I get to see your bedroom?” he asked, causing my stomach to do a flip-flop at the potential innuendo.
Ducking my head, I replied, “Oh, I, uh, well, it’s kind of messy.”
“That’s okay. You can clean it before I come over next time.”
“Next time?” I questioned lamely, jerking my chin up to meet his gaze. So this wasn’t just going to be a one-time deal of checking in on me just for Jake? He actually wanted to spend time with me? That was a major newsflash.
“Yeah, I thought you could host our movie night of Monty Python.”
Like an overeager puppy, I quickly replied, “Oh yeah, of course I will.”
He smiled. “Good. It’s all settled then.”
“Ready?” I repeated again.
“Let’s go.”
After locking the front door, I followed Rhys down the porch steps and onto the sidewalk that ran along Oglethorpe Avenue. “You really haven’t been able to explore the city while you’ve been here?”
I shook my head. “Between work and school, I usually spend my downtime being emo and staying locked in my room.” A laugh bubbled from my lips at Rhys’s almost horrified expression. “I’m just teasing about staying locked in my room.”
“I would hope so.”
“The truth is I have been staying pretty busy. I’m applying for a summer internship in fashion design.”
“Good for you. What does it entail?”
Giggling, I said, “Entail? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so proper than I have in the last ten minutes.”
Rhys scowled. “It’s a hazard of being back home around pompous sounding assholes. It usually takes me a few weeks of being back on the road with the guys to get it out of my system.”
“I like it. There’s nothing wrong with an expansive vocabulary.”
Cocking his brows at me, he asked, “Are you trying to say using big words is sexy?”
“Mmm, hmm. Totally.”
“Then I’ll just have to keep giving you an illustrious repertoire of wording, eh?”
“Ooh, I like it very much.” Those words were certainly an understatement. I mean, Rhys wanted me to think he was sexy? He didn’t say he wondered if other girls found it sexy. Just me. Call me crazy that I was probably reading too much into it, but I couldn’t help it. I would take anything I could get.
Rhys grinned and shook his head at me. “So what’s this internship about?”
Part of me was reluctant to talk about it because I didn’t want to jinx it. Getting full college credit for what I wanted to do was almost too good to be true. But Rhys’s interested expression made me forget my resolve. “It would be designing and implementing a collection of my own.”
“That sounds intense.”
“It is. I would receive credit not just for this summer, but it would also take the place of several other fashion design classes.”
“Who would you be working for?”
Here was the kicker of revealing everything. After nibbling on my bottom lip for a moment, I replied, “Runaway Train.”
“Huh?” he asked, his expression waxing confusion.
“I would be designing and making some of the wardrobe for Runaway Train and Jacob’s Ladder. I would also be doing hands-on work with the current stylist.”
“Does that mean you’d be touring with us?”
“Yeah, it would.”
Rhys’s expression was hard to read. It seemed like many different emotions filtered through him. When he smiled, I exhaled a breath of relief. “That sounds like an amazing opportunity, Allison.”
“Really?”
“Hell, yes. I mean, it’s one thing getting to come out on tour and work firsthand with a tried and true designer and stylist, but then there’s the fact that you would be creating your own collection at your age. That’s very impressive.”
“You sound as if it’s a done deal, and I’ve already gotten it. I won’t know for a few more weeks if I’m accepted or not. There are a ton of applicants, too.”
Shaking his head, Rhys said, “There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll get it.”
“But how do you know how good I am at fashion design?”
“I don’t have to know how good you are at it. I know you, and that’s plenty enough to tell me that you’re one of the candidates at the top of the list.”
I couldn’t help feeling extremely flattered by his high praise of me and my abilities. “Thank you for believing in me.”
“No need to thank me, Allie-Bean.” He cocked his head at me. “Now are you ready for our tour?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, with a smile.
After taking a left, Rhys motioned at an imposing mansion. “Do you know what that is?”
I nodded. “The Juliette Gordon Low House—the founder of the Girl Scouts lived there.”
He smiled. “See, you’re not totally lost about Savannah culture and landmarks.”
“I’ve never got to go inside it though.” Tilting my head, I asked, “Want to be my tour guide there?”
“I would love to.” After peering at the sign giving tour hours, he then glanced down at his expensive-looking watch and grimaced. “Unfortunately, it’s four and just closing.” Flashing a grin, he said, “I could try to use my VIP status, but I’m not sure how many of the tour guides would actually know me.”
“I’m sure a lot of the Girl Scouts would. Runaway Train’s audience is pretty vast on the age scale.”
“Maybe.”
“Well, bummer on the tour. Guess that means you’ll have to bring me back another day, huh?” I teased.
With a roll of his eyes, he replied, “You act like it would pain me to spend time with you. That is not the case.”
“Really?” I asked, as my heartbeat sped up.
“Of course not. Plus, I love history.”
As I dodged out of the way of some Girl Scouts leaving the museum gift shop, I eyed Rhys curiously. “Hmm, I never pegged you as a history buff.”
He laughed as he shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I was more of a history nerd.”
I couldn’t help laughing at the absurd thought of him being a nerd. Sure, it would seem from the way he had been speaking very formally and properly this afternoon that he could be a nerd, but at the same time, I’d spent lots of downtime with him, and he was the furthest thing from a nerd. That wasn’t just my crush talking either.
“You can laugh, but seriously, I have photographic evidence of my n
erdom,” Rhys argued.
“I find it very hard to believe considering who you are now that you were ever even remotely in the category of a nerd.”
Rhys tsked at me as he checked left and right for traffic. “I’m going to gloat pretty badly when I show you the pics and get to say ‘I told you so.’”
“Ha, we’ll just have to see.”
We then stepped into one of Savannah’s many squares—Wright Square, as Rhys was quick to inform me. He practically dragged me over to a giant rock sitting to the right hand side of the square. “This is the rock dedicated to Tomochichi. When English settlers arrived in Savannah in 1733, he was the Yamacraw Chief who gave them assistance. This stone was erected over a hundred and fifty years after his death…”
As Rhys continued rattling along about Tomochichi, I tried to feign interest when I frankly could have cared less. When he eventually finished, I cocked my head at him and grinned. “Ooh, talk nerdy to me some more,” I teased.
He laughed before playfully nudging me with his shoulder. “Twerp.” Patting the stone, he said, “What if I was to tell you that the stone had some mystical qualities?”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “The legend is that if you circle the stone three times while continuously saying, ‘Tomochichi,’ whatever you wish will come true.”
Sweeping my hand to my hip, I eyed him suspiciously. “That sounds like a load of bullshit. Like a very warped ‘wish upon a star.’”
Rhys shrugged. “It may or may not be. But isn’t it worth trying a chance at having a wish come true?”
I glanced between him and the rock not really believing that at twenty, I was actually going to take superstition seriously. While looking at Rhys, I could tell he was silently daring me to do it. “All right. Fine.”
“You’re really going to do it?” he asked, a little incredulity in his voice.
“Oh yeah, I’m doing it.”
He chuckled. “Guess that internship is a wish heavy on your heart, huh?”
I fought the urge to laugh in his face if he thought that I would actually waste my wish on the internship. Sure, it was important, but there was nothing more important to me than finally being with him. Without another word to Rhys, I reached out my hand and touched the stone. “Tomochichi, Tomochichi, Tomochichi…,” I began, as I started speed walking around the rock.
When I made my first lap, I found Rhys grinning at me like the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland. Ignoring him, I kept walking and reciting “Tomochichi.” Of course, while I might have been saying the dead chief’s name out loud, it was Rhys’s name I was saying inside my head.
Once I was finished, I took my hand off the stone and turned questioningly to him. “Now what?”
“You just wait for your wish to come true.”
“Have you ever done it?”
“Nope. Not even when I was a kid here on a field trip, and the tour guides told us about it.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “I guess I didn’t have anything to wish for.”
“Well, that’s just sad. Life is all about having wants and desires, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so. I just never gave much time and effort to thinking about them.”
It was so strange that I had known him for seven years, spent hours and hours of time with him in different places, yet when it came down to it, I felt like I didn’t know him at all. He was a puzzle that needed to be solved, but at the same time, I had the feeling that some of the pieces were missing. Pieces that I would somehow have to dig deep to unearth.
“Where to now, Captain Tour Guide?”
“River Street is just a few blocks down there.” He motioned to the north.
“Okay, sounds good.”
“I’ll sweeten the tour by taking you in to River Street Sweets for a famous praline.”
“Mmm, I love pralines. I don’t think I’ve been down on River Street since our 8th grade overnight field trip.”
“I think you’re totally overdue for one then.”
As we continued the walk down to River Street, Rhys pointed out different landmarks of interest. He didn’t just keep it to a history lesson. He also told me great places to eat and hang out. Of course, I didn’t care about any of the places unless he planned to bring me back to them.
When we got down to the cobblestoned pavement of River Street, Rhys and I stopped into a few shops. I especially enjoyed the ones with gag gifts and T-shirts. Once we’d laughed and dared each other to buy several obnoxious ones, Rhys steered me into the huge candy store. The moment I stepped inside, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. “That smell is pure heaven,” I murmured.
He laughed. “I would have to agree.”
After eyeballing the many delicious goodies under the glass, I decided on some chocolate covered pecan clusters along with a caramel apple dipped in nuts. I also added a famous praline. As I munched on one of the samples of chocolate bark, Rhys put in an order that caused my eyes to bulge. “What?” he asked.
“You’re getting all that for you?”
“I’ve been known to have them ship stuff to me when I’m out on tour,” he replied, getting out his wallet.
“Who knew you had such a sweet tooth?”
“It’s epic. Trust me.”
I couldn’t help protesting when Rhys had them ring up my sweets with his. “No, let me get mine,” I protested.
“It was my idea, so let me treat you.”
“But only this one time since I’m a poor, struggling college student, and you’re mister money bags.”
Rhys laughed. “Whatever.” Once he had paid, he gave them his address to ship the candy to. I had been wondering how he would possibly get it out of the store, least of all back to his house.
After that was sorted, we walked back out into sunshine. “Are you hungry?” Rhys asked.
“Maybe a little,” I replied, after polishing off my second pecan cluster.
“How about some good seafood?”
“I’d love some.”
“Follow me then.”
When he started into Huey’s, which looked like a higher-end restaurant, I grabbed his arm. “No, I’m not dressed for this place,” I hissed, motioning to my jeans and T-shirt.
“It’ll be fine.”
“No, Rhys, please.”
His brows shot up. “Does it really bother you that much? Because I could give two shits about the way you’re dressed, and I’m a VIP.”
A smile played on my lips at his words. “Are you sure?”
“I’d hardly call my Ralph Lauren shirt and shorts black tie. Besides, it’s a tourist trap. Lots of people stumble in not realizing.”
“Fine. If you say so.”
“Trust me,” he said, holding my gaze with his dark eyes.
“Okay,” I muttered lamely.
He grinned as we walked up to the hostess stand. When the hostess glanced up from a pile of menus, she did a double take at the sight of Rhys. I think it was safe to say she totally recognized him not from being a hometown boy, but from his Runaway Train fame. “Oh, um, hi, how many?”
“Just two. Can we get a table with a river view?”
“Sure, yeah, one second.” She wrote and rewrote some numbers on a whiteboard before grabbing two menus. “Right this way,” she replied, with a megawatt smile that belonged on a Miss America contestant.
As she started leading us through the maze of tables, I leaned in close to Rhys. “I’m pretty sure your VIP status just jacked someone else’s table for us.”
Rhys chuckled. “I’m surprised she even recognized me. The bass player is never the noticed one in a band.”
I fought the urge to tell him that not all bass players were as hot as he was. Instead, I replied, “Here I thought it was the drummer lost behind the kit.”
“Do you think AJ could ever be lost to fans?”
I laughed. “Not really.”
The hostess motioned to our table, which gave us a great view of the r
iver past the crowds sauntering down the street. Once she sat the menus down, she swept a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled broadly at Rhys. “Have a great dinner.”
“Thank you. I’m sure we will.”
Once she was out of earshot, I couldn’t help laughing. “Frankly, I don’t think she even noticed I was alive. She had total Rhys tunnel vision.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he teased, as he picked up his menu.
“Now you’re starting to sound like Jake or AJ.”
“That’s an awfully cocky combination.”
I laughed. “Exactly.” Glancing at my menu, I asked, “So what’s good here?”
“Since I’ve eaten your nana’s cooking before, I know you like Southern food.”
“What kind of Southern girl would I be if I didn’t enjoy collard greens and fried green tomatoes?”
“Not a very good one,” Rhys replied. Waving his menu, he added, “This place is fucking fabulous when it comes to Southern food. The fried green tomatoes here are kick-ass. Plus there’s low country boil on the menu, so you should be able to get the greens I know you love.”
My stomach rumbled in appreciation at his words. “Sounds good to me. Of course, everything looks good.”
When our waiter, with the name-tag, Lance, arrived, he had a star-struck moment as well at Rhys’s presence. “I know you’re here to eat and I don’t want to bother you, but I’m a huge Runaway Train fan,” he said, after he got our drink and appetizer orders.
“Thank you. That means a lot,” Rhys said politely. With the charm that I’m sure that had been bred into him from the time he was born, he added, “I’d be happy to sign something for you.”
Lance’s eyes bulged, and he momentarily fumbled with his leather envelope for taking orders. “That would be awesome. Thank you. Seriously, thank you!”
He then proceeded to back into another waiter and almost mowed him down along with a tray of alcoholic beverages. I had to bring my napkin up to my face to hide my laughter. When I recovered, I put down my napkin and asked, “Who would have thought it would have been the guy who lost his shit for you, rather than the girl?”
“Oh, I guarantee she’ll manage to find a way to slip her number to me.”
“You can’t be serious.” When he nodded, I said, “But you’re here with me.”