Rhythm & The Blue Line, Chapter Three by PennLady - 12/06/11

Description: Ryan performs; Brody negotiates.


© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Series to: Rhythm and The Blue Line Chapter One, Chapter Two

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.

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.

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."