Someone I Used to Know

chapter Twelve

Adley


I was still sitting there when Declan barged in without even a hint of a courtesy knock. I couldn’t say I was surprised. Courtesy wasn’t his strong suit.

“Hey,” I said numbly. I was tired – so damn tired of rifling through emotional baggage day after day. It wasn’t worth it.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, bobbing his head towards the open door. “Come on.”

“I’m not in the mood.” I meant it, and that was really saying something when it came to sex with the Greek god offering it. I eyed the stretch of his jeans contouring around his hips, trying to stir up my libido.

His gray eyes narrowed. “You sure do think a lot of yourself. I’m not trying to have sex with you. Now, come on.”

He turned on his heel, departing swiftly and leaving the door open in his wake. I stared at the hole leading to the outside world, more annoyed at his audacity than anything else. With a drained sigh, I moved to close the door, except that when I got there, it seemed a whole lot easier to follow Declan than return to my wallowing. At least if I was following his orders, then I wasn’t having to make any decisions of my own.

I stayed a few steps behind him all the way to the limo. Once we were wrapped inside the quiet luxury of his car it didn’t take him long to find his voice.

“Now, aren’t you glad we have our own set of wheels?”

My jaw dropped.

Suddenly all the pieces fell into place. He was being nice to me. Declan, Mr.-I’m-so-charming-and-famous-even-my-scowl-makes-girls-swoon, had come to set that day (his off day) with the sole purpose of doing something nice for me. I wanted to recoil from the notion. Even the smallest bits of kindness were a slippery slope. First, he shows a little consideration, and the next thing I know, we’re getting a dog named Lila together and cuddling.

He’d purposefully come, made a point to be with me, offered his acceptance with silence, all because, just like Fran, he’d thought it would be hard for me. I wanted to hate it. I wished for revulsion.

I told my face to frown. I swear, I did, but it just wouldn’t cooperate. I couldn’t spite him for what he’d done, no matter what it meant.

“Quit staring at me like that,” he said without looking at me, a pout worthy of a four-year-old on his face. It was as if he could sense my sudden awareness, and by knowing, I’d forced him face-to-face with the ugly truth as well.

“You’ve never minded it before.” The seductive hitch in my voice didn’t go unnoticed.

Whatever contriteness I’d seen evaporated into thin air, and he turned to me with a smirk I recognized all too well. There was the Declan Davies I’d come to know and…well, appreciate.

“Don’t mind us, Lazarus,” he spoke at a louder volume meant for the driver, but his eager eyes never left me.

A nervous giggle bubbled out as the privacy partition took it’s time cutting us off from the third party in the front seat.

“What?” He questioned my amusement.

“I just realized I’ve never known his name. In my head I always call him ‘driver’.”

Declan made a face. “Do you spend a lot of time thinking about my driver?”

“Well he does have a certain silver fox appeal.” I grinned, but only for a second, because in the next, he was on me.

He played me hot and cold; his hands hot, squeezing my ass with a demanding firmness; his mouth – well, I wouldn’t exactly have called it cold – more like soft, the gentlest of pressures. The shallow kisses were nice – different than before – and I sighed, content to let him work his masterful skills on me. His tongue swept across my bottom lip twice, each time retreating as I tried to open up to him.

He was teasing me…again. At his house, it had been fun to try a new way of doing things (and Declan sure did know a lot of them), but it was my turn to be in control. I shoved him backwards, pressing him into the leather, and I climbed into his lap, situated on either side of his thighs.

I stole his smirk as I felt the hardness already waiting for me. He wasn’t as in control of the situation as he’d like me to believe. I could tease too.

“I can’t decide if that smirk makes me want f*ck you or kick you out of the car,” he exhaled a shaky breath.

I surrendered to a full blown smile. “We both know how that’ll turn out.”

He started to retaliate with words, but I couldn’t have that, not when it would only turn into the vicious cycle of verbal jabs we were helpless to resist when it came to each other. And because I knew how much I craved getting the last word, I knew he couldn’t help himself from chasing it either. There was only one thing he wanted more. A roll of my hips proved me right.

He groaned. “You don’t play fair, Ms. Adair.”

I didn’t plan on starting any time soon either. I took his mouth prisoner, kissing him exactly how I wanted to be kissed and daring him to contradict me. He let me stake my claim above, as his hands fondled my breasts. My back arched, unintentionally grinding into him again. My lips broke free with a gasp at the intimate feel. My gasp of pleasure split our lips, and I reveled in the erotic tingles stimulated by the intimate friction.

I was so distracted by unbuttoning his jeans that I barely noticed he’d done the same to mine. It had become a competition. Who could drive the other one crazy first?

I took his hard length in my hand, pumping slowly as I studied the unguarded emotions contorting his face. Seeing what I could do to him, this beautiful man who was desired by so many, had me panting, almost getting off on it as much as he was.

“These need to go.” He made a few feeble attempts to remove my jeans before the pleasure drew him back to me, his desperate hands and mouth everywhere at once, like I could disappear at any moment and he’d never get the chance to touch me again.

Suddenly the limo came to a quick stop, not with enough momentum to really jostle anything inside the car, except for a girl not firmly secured by gravity. I landed on my ass, staring up at the man I’d just been seated on with wide eyes. It would have been embarrassing and maybe even a little painful if we both hadn’t realized the advantage of the new position at the same time. It was like a sign from God…well maybe not God, exactly.

We had become perfectly situated for the removal of my jeans.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I’m okay?” I asked, trying to summon up a little incredulity, even as I assisted him in the removal.

“Adley, I have no doubt that if you were in any way injured that I, along the rest of the population of Southern California, would know about it.”

There was no time to celebrate his victory over my jeans. He was already greedily reaching for my panties.

I swatted him away, and gave a pointed look to the (very tinted) windows that surrounded us.

“We’re in public.”

“Well, we’ll just have to invest in some skirts then, won’t we?” He growled, but didn’t make another attempt to get rid of them as he hauled me onto his lap.

His pants were at his ankles, and even though he wore a slight pout at my denial, his thick erection was standing at attention, pressed into my belly and begging me to do something about it.

In one swift, deliberate movement I pulled my panties to the side and sank down on him until he was fully inside of me.

“Oh my f-,” he let out a nonsensical cry.

He stared at me with surprised awe, and I liked it so much I did it again, using my legs on either side of him to raise up before sheathing him inside of me again. The next time, I swiveled my hips in just the right way and pressed my body fully against his, letting a lightshow of mind-blowing sensations bombard a million sensitive nerves.

“Yes,” I cried again and again, each time I rammed downwards. My hands gripped the leather seat behind him so hard, there was a good chance my fingernails were permanently branding the upholstery.

“I’m about to come,” he warned, his eyes closed as if the mere sight of me bouncing on top of him had the potential to finish him.

I was helpless to my own body as it went wild against him, trying to suck out every bit of pleasure he could offer me. My voice was a plea, “Not yet.”

“Bloody f*ck, you’re going to kill me,” it was nothing more than a moan. His body had ceased movement altogether, trying to hold off the inevitable.

But I was far past the point of needing his participation. My hips rolled with frenzied strokes, striving for the perfect bliss that built in my belly like a coming freight train.

“Adley,” he gasped, eyes popping open wide as his fingers dug into my hips using force to try and hold me in place.

But I couldn’t stop. It felt so, so good, and I was close enough to taste it. Just a little more…

I knew I’d lost him the moment he released his hold, letting my body buck freely as his shuddered and groaned. Finally satiated, he held me still against him, his face nuzzled in the little bit of cleavage my tank top allowed.

“I blame you,” he accused, his lips rubbing against the sensitive skin of my breasts as he spoke. “That should be illegal. You should be illegal.”

I pouted. I was still burning up inside, while he got to be all relaxed and happy.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, little sheila, I’ll make it up to you.”

And then he lay me backwards on the unused bench seat, stretching my body until only my legs hung off facing him. He lowered his head between my legs, and did just as he promised.

“No, that should be illegal,” I corrected afterwards, gulping down the musky air circulating around us. The stars in my vision began to clear.

He nudged me back to our seat, and when I resisted his pull to cuddle up beside him, he rolled his eyes and reversed our positions so his head rested in my lap. I had every intention of shoving him off, but when my fingers made contact with his unruly hair, I couldn’t help but to admire the smooth texture. His dark eyelashes settled on his cheeks with a content sigh.

Free to stare at him all I wanted, my eyes carefully traced his face.

It was funny. As handsome as he was, the perfection wasn’t what really attracted me to him at all. My favorite feature had become the one blemish – the single imperfection – that marred his skin. In my eyes, that small birthmark was who he really was. He wore his faults and shortcomings where everyone could see, not as something to proud of, but as something we had no choice but to accept as the imperfect creature he was – that we all are.

“Declan?” I whispered. Anything louder would’ve felt inappropriate.

Gray eyes peeked up at me.

“Why do you always pester me about my past? Do you just like to rile me? Are my buttons really that fun to press?”

He cocked an eyebrow at the suggestive double entendre of ‘pressing my buttons’. Thankfully, it was a little too obvious to earn a remark, even from Declan.

“Riling you up is just a perk. It’s mind-blowingly sexy.”

“You’re twisted,” I interjected.

He reached up to twirl a golden lock of my hair around his finger, focusing on it instead of me as he spoke, “I’ve never been one for mysteries. Riddles do nothing for me. I’m not one of those blokes with an inherent need to figure things out…But you’ve been an enigma ever since the moment you opened that marvelously foul little mouth of yours. You fight your past like you’re slaying a dragon, and at first, I thought I needed to understand you. But your truths always turned out to be even more perplexing than the idea of you I started with –,”

I stopped him, feeling a mixture of disgust and outrage.

“I’m not some task for you to accomplish, Declan. There aren’t a certain number of clues, and then you win the game. I’m not a character. I’m a person.”

He was nonplussed.

“Exactly, you’re a person, and you’re different from anyone I’ve ever met. I thought, at first, that if I could get into your past, that I’d be able to put my finger on whatever it was about you that eluded me, but at some point, I realized I was looking at it all wrong. It’s not about understanding you. I just like knowing you…period.”

It was almost exactly the opposite of what Madeline had said to me just a short time ago, and while her detached sentiment hadn’t meant much to me at all, Declan’s declaration inflated me. It made me feel human, like I was a real person again, someone worth getting to know, past the character Cam had created.

“You wanted to know why I made Cam use our real names in the book,” I prompted, fighting through the tremble in my voice.

I wanted to give him something in return. Whatever this thing was between us, it was dangerous. The more left unspoken, the better. So while I couldn’t tell him the way he made me feel, I could give him something else – an answer to a question I’d never given anyone, not even Cam.

He nodded cautiously, a smidgen of reluctance dragging in his chin.

“For her entire life, my daughter will live with the knowledge that the person who gave birth to her made the choice to let her go. I have this fear – this consuming fear – that even for a moment – even for the briefest of seconds – that she’ll think that I didn’t want her – that I –,” my voice croaked, “that I didn’t love her. By putting my name in The Girl in the Yellow Dress I gave the world the power to judge me. I put every insecurity on display, and I made the hardest thing I’ve ever done a tool for entertainment.

“But I also gave written proof to a little girl out there that she was wanted. That I loved her so much that my heart didn’t just break when I let her go; it went with her.”

Declan was quiet, his face painted over with pensive lines. The silence reminded me of Madeline’s post-confessional reactions.

“Say something,” I blurted.

“I was going to,” he calmly replied. “I was trying to decide what you’d let me say without making that face you do, like you’re having a coronary.”

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about. There’s no face.”

“Okay then,” his words held the promise of a challenge. “So if I told you that your decision was the most selflessly amazing thing I’d ever heard, then that would be okay?”

Oh…that was the face he meant – the wrinkled one of horror.

“No, that would not be okay,” I replied stiffly. He wasn’t allowed to make my heart flutter.

He met my eyes pointedly, drilling me with their seriousness.

“Then I won’t tell you that.”

The air, the car, the moment; all at once became too much, and I shot up, jostling his head out of my lap and forcing him into a sitting position.

“Oh God, poor Lazarus!”

The limo had been pulled to a stop in front of Cam’s house for God knows how long. It was frivolous and inconsiderate.

Declan chuckled at my panic. “Believe me, he doesn’t mind. He’s getting paid, after all.”

“He’s getting paid to listen to us have sex?” My face was pinched with embarrassed horror.

“No, I imagine that’s just a perk. But after hearing the symphony of delectable noises you were making earlier, I’m sure he’s going to go home later and treat Mrs. Lazarus to a good time of her own.”

He dodged the slap I threw in his direction, and hauled me back to him when I grabbed for my jeans.

“Relax,” he soothed. The sweet smells that clung to his skin lured me closer. “He’s getting paid to hang out and read. You wouldn’t want to cause little Lazarus Jr. and Lazarina to go hungry now, would you? I lent him a new book this morning. He’s good to go for a while.”

“Oh? And the two of you have some sort of a book club together?” I chortled.

He hushed me with a frown. “Just relax, Adley.”

And strangely enough, I did.

***

Over the next few days, the end of July melted into August, and while the rest of the cast and crew fretted over the meager month we had left to complete production, Declan and I did our best to take advantage of their distraction. This had involved sex in his trailer (and Madeline’s, but just once), a heavy petting session in the wardrobe jungle, a few quickies whenever (and wherever) we could, and a very scary episode in the small viewing room that Georgia and the other actors used to watch Dailies. Georgia had walked in while Declan’s hands were down my pants. After some very creative explanations on his part (I was too mortified to speak), the film director might have actually bought his story about helping me check something on my upper thigh. I didn’t even care that he made me seem like a hypochondriac, fearful every bug bite was cancerous.

Cam and I delved into one of the most extensive matches of phone tag ever played. I hadn’t spoken to him since Declan and I had started sleeping together, and so while I really did miss him, I had to admit the lack of communications wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Was I supposed to tell him about Declan? I didn’t think it was protocol to keep ex-boyfriends in the loop about those sorts of things, but Cam and I had always operated under a special set of rules.

I definitely wasn’t interested in hearing about his sex-capades, that was for sure. And it was just sex with Declan, after all. If it didn’t mean anything, surely Cam wouldn’t want to know about it.

The day-to-day stress of Madeline and confronting my past weren’t quite as horrible as they’d once been. The evolution reminded me of a girl I’d taken ballet with in elementary school. She was diabetic, and every day during break, when the rest of us would rush to the water fountain, she’d excuse herself to the bathroom to check her blood sugar. I’d been astounded, horrorstruck, the first time I watched her prick her own finger.

How could she do that? Didn’t it hurt her? I knew it sure hurt me whenever the doctor did it at my check-ups, like a wasp sticking his fat stinger through my unprotected skin. The girl had explained to me that while it never felt good, and she wished she didn’t have to do it, she’d been doing it for so long that she had just gotten used to it eventually.

I’d gotten used to my life there…And it didn’t hurt that, thanks to the many talents of Declan Davies, I’d found a way to take the edge off.

Maybe, Madeline just really needed to get laid too.

“Why are you so…smile-y lately?” The redheaded actress wrinkled her nose like she’d just smelled something foul. It wasn’t the first time I’d caught her eyeing me with suspicion, but it was the first time she’d voiced her concerns.

“Pills,” I deadpanned.

She stared at me blankly. Interpreting sarcasm was one of those human skills Madeline hadn’t bothered with. Apparently method-acting cyborgs had no need for such frivolity. “How…great for you.”

I nodded earnestly, considering messing with her some more, but the prospect wasn’t nearly as appealing as it would have been if I hadn’t been on set for sixteen freaking hours straight. Weren’t there unions to protect actors and the like from that sort of thing? I decided there should definitely be a union to protect innocents like me from Madeline Little.

She’d been exceptionally needy all day. Fran’s daughter was sick, leaving Alfred and I alone to deal with Madeline for the brunt of the sixteen hours. Every possible moment had been consumed by her. In the beginning, I’d been sure that eventually she’d run out of questions for me (I mean, we are talking about a three month span). Lately, she’d been less of a firing squad and more of a surprise sniper with the questions, leading me to believe her supply was running a little low and giving me renewed hope.

But if I’d thought the development would grant me a reprieve, man was I wrong. Instead of talking, she’d taken to just staring at me with that creepy little look on her doll face. And, sometimes, she’d start mimicking my every movement. The day before, she’d spent two hours perfecting the way I sneezed.

“Hello, Adleys.” Declan appeared, propping an arm around both of us.

I hadn’t seen him for hours, and if he hadn’t referred to Madeline and I as the plural ‘Adleys’ (which he knew I despised), I might not have been able to stop myself from collapsing in his arms and declaring that it was time to go back to the plantation. My desperation to get away from Madeline had turned me into Scarlet O’Hara.

I darted out from under his heavy arm, my glare hitting both of them evenly. Declan leaned down to whisper something in Madeline’s ear, and she came the closest I’d ever seen to giggling.

That was it. I was going to attack them both. I could probably only get one of them before Alfred took me down (possibly with deadly force), but at that moment, it would have been totally worth it. Maybe they’d make an E! True Hollywood Story about my life. I, in the least, deserved my own episode of Snapped.

“While I really hate to steal your favorite history book away, it’s time for me to go.”

I could have kissed him! I made a mental note to do just that later. I might even consider letting him do that thing to me he’d been begging to do all week.

I attempted to give Madeline an apologetic look, but I wasn’t sure how convincing it was, smeared with pure glee.

And then we were off. I rushed through the darkened lot like a prisoner escaping Azkaban, something far more frightening than a Dementor at my back. And Declan…Well, I had to do a double take because it looked a whole lot like he was skipping.

I waited to question him until we were not only inside the car, but also a block away. He was still all smiles.

“Did someone give you a Ritalin?” I marveled at the cheerful movie star who looked ready to run a marathon or swim the English Chanel. He’d been on set just as long as I had, even if he had been MIA for most of the time.

“I’ve been sleeping in my trailer for the last six hours. I’m almost positive everyone forgot about me in there, and my ego would be severely bruised if I didn’t feel so damn well rested,” he said without a hint of sarcasm. “Let’s do something fun!”

Surprisingly, I wasn’t completely opposed to the idea. I felt giddy with freedom. Scooting up to the open partition, I gave Lazarus an address to deliver us to before returning to my seat.

He was staring at me.

“What?” I asked, fighting the urge to fidget.

“I always forget that this is your home. You grew up here. You really know this city.”

I forgot too sometimes.

It took us longer to get to my specified destination than it would’ve taken us to get back to Cam and Declan’s neighborhood, but I promised him it was worth it.

“Wow…” He trailed off flatly as we both faced the beautiful scenery laid out before us. “…a beach.”

The moon was an ugly shape, but what it lacked in its usual majestic appeal, it made up for in abundance of light. Where the shimmering sand ended, the world collapsed into an abyss of nothing, the water as black as tar.

I laughed at his faux enthusiasm. “Come on, Mr. Oscar Nominee. The beach isn’t what I wanted to show you.”

He followed me without question. I liked that.

The muscles in my calves were just starting to burn when we reached the small white hut held up by stilts.

“There are no lifeguards on duty at night, so these are always abandoned after the sun goes down.”

I slipped my shoes off at the base of the ramp, gesturing for Declan to do the same. It was hard to get traction on the smooth plank otherwise. I didn’t even try the door, knowing it would be locked. They were pretty careful about keeping it that way. I was far from the only teenager in California aware of the little lifeguard stand secret. I had a friend who lost her virginity in one in Malibu.

“I didn’t take you for such a deviant,” he commented, once we had both settled with our backs against the building, facing the ocean, shadowed by the overhang. I could tell he was smiling without ever removing my gaze from the frosty tipped waves rolling the distance.

“Before I could drive, I was pretty much chained to my brother Thomas, or more accurately, his car. He used to come out here to get high.”

“Spiffy, you’ve brought me on a date to a place that reminds you of your brother.”

“This is not a date!”

“Bloody oath. No, need to spit the dummy.” He threw his hands up in defense.

“Are you even speaking English right now?” I demanded. “I swear sometimes you’re just making this shit up.”

“Now you sound like Madeline.”

My mouth snapped shut.

“I take it back! I take it back!” I cried out with an over dramatic flair of revulsion.

He looked quite pleased with himself.

“So your brother – Thomas, you said? So his name’s not really Cade?”

I picked at a splintering plank beneath our outstretched legs.

“Just because I gave permission for my name to be used doesn’t mean my family did.”

“So you and Thomas –,” the name sounded foreign on his lips, “were you close?”

I shook my head. A lie.

I had thought Thomas hung the moon growing up. He’d even help me with pas de deux, as long as we did it in the backyard where none of the other neighborhood kids could see him doing something so girlie as ballet. As he got older, I was convinced videogames had stolen my favorite playmate from me.

“We had very different interests,” was all I said.

“That’s a bit impersonal.” He used his leg to nudge my shorter one.

“Well then, you first. Please, share with me all your personal family inter-workings,” I shot back.

“Point taken.” He shut down so quickly it almost made me actually want to know. I couldn’t ask though, not when an answer of his would leave me owing him one of my own. “In fact, as you were so eager to point out, this is not a date, so why are we doing so much talking anyways?”

“Finally, a question I can get behind!” My head thumped backwards against the hallow wood with exasperation.

“Is that right, mate?” His demeanor changed in an instant. With lazy ease he leaned into me. My eyes fluttered shut with craving. The smell of him and the ocean swirled together as one perfect scent. It was intoxicating.

A loud melody intercepted the moment, and Declan’s head fell to my shoulder in defeat. I wrestled the singing phone from my back pocket.

“You’re really going to answer that right now?” He stopped me from flipping it open.

I stared at him obliviously. Why wouldn’t I answer it?

“It’s Cam.”

He rolled his eyes. “I can read; thanks.”

I wanted to grab his chin and point his intense stare elsewhere.

“Hello,” I said to the speaker, taking my chance to break our gaze, but the screen was already lit up citing ‘1 Missed Call.’

A heavy sigh sat on my chest. It was pretty late on the East Coast. I hoped everything was okay.

“Oh, don’t look so distraught. The man wrote a book about you. I’m sure he’ll call back.”

What the hell? His sudden change took me by surprise, and I sat back, assessing him.

And then it hit me. “Are you jealous?”

“Aren’t you just up yourself?” He hastily climbed to his feet.

“Is that some more of your freaky slang, because you know perfectly well that I can’t understand you.”

He narrowed his eyes into silver slits, striking me.

“I’m as jealous of Cam as you were of Candace Harris,” he ignored my comment and took a clean shot at me.

The truth was that I’d been none too pleased watching him blatantly flirt with the personal assistant candidate. But it wasn’t because I was jealous! I’d always erred on the side of possessive. It was a side effect of my pampered upbringing I couldn’t seem to shake. I didn’t like other people touching my toys…Or, in this case, the boy I was using for sex.

“Well then I guess I was mistaken.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“I guess so.” He fingers tapped their tune on the railing, and we found an awkward silence.

“We should get gelato,” I blurted out, trying to chase the tension away.

“Gelato?” My outburst was enough to jolt him back to some version of normal.

I nodded eagerly, happy to return to a safe place.

“There’s this great place up the beach we can walk to. Thomas would get the munchies and take me there. He’d even buy mine as a bribe so I’d tell mom and dad we’d been at the library.”

“Charming bloke,” he snorted. It wasn’t his real laugh, but I’d take it nonetheless.

“Yeah, he kind of was,” I mumbled. He hadn’t heard me though, already making his way down the sand abused ramp.

“Just let me go grab my jacket from the car.” He didn’t wait on me to follow him.

When he jogged back to where I stood at the edge of the parking lot, sand dusted off his shoes with each step. We’d have to remember to shake them off before getting back into Lazarus’ car. Sand was a bitch to get out of upholstery. The little two-door beamer I used to drive had miniature beaches where there once had been floor mats, and I wasn’t even a beach person, only going on special occasions and hot days when I wasn’t locked inside a dance studio.

“Ready for the best gelato you’ve ever tasted, 8 Mile,” I joked about the dark navy hood he’d pulled over his head, almost completely shadowing his handsome features. “Oh damn! We should have seen if Lazarus wanted anything.”

“Pistachio,” Declan filled in giving me a cocky look, proud of his thoughtfulness.

It vanished as we walked, and his silence chafed at my worries. Had I really upset him? I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful by answering Cam’s call. We’d been going back and forth for weeks, always missing each other or calling at exactly the wrong time. I was just going to answer to ask him if I could call him back later, and if not, so we could schedule another time to talk.

I glanced at Declan out of the corner of my eye. His hood hid any clues I might have been able to discern from his expression, and his hands shoved deep in his pockets, the tension of his body only hinted at by the bulge of definition where his sweatshirt clung to his upper arms. I wanted to say something, to ask him what was wrong, but my tongue was paralyzed by our agreement. No strings meant no strings. I wasn’t supposed to care if I’d done something wrong. That was how it worked.

The shop looked exactly as I remembered it; faded purple walls; a sparse spread of two-person tables; a glass case in the front, reflecting the many colors of flavors. Air conditioner blasted us as the bells on the door earned us a quick, uninterested look from a few of the patrons scattered through the establishment, lounging in wicker chairs.

Declan tensed behind me before taking a strained step over the threshold. Jeez, it wasn’t the fanciest place ever, but it wasn’t cringe worthy. What a snob. I ignored him, strolling towards the front where the tantalizing smells lured me. He could wait outside if he had a problem with the facilities. I, however, was going to indulge my sweet tooth.

I ordered for myself and Lazarus, then stood to the side to let Declan have his turn after I’d paid and been given my cups. I nibbled smooth chocolate off the little plastic spoon, and purposefully turned my attention away from the soft voice Declan was using to speak to the teenage girl serving him. He was such a slut.

A strange unidentifiable sensation crept up my spine and made me look up from my snack. I couldn’t put my finger on the cause of it though. Everything was normal, no one had moved since we’d come in. I stood very still, trying to figure out what it was, as the feeling settled in the back of my mind like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

It was the noise! Or really, the utter lack thereof. No one was talking. They were all whispering.

“Oh my God! I knew you looked familiar! You’re Declan Davies! Can I get a picture with you?” The girl behind the counter burst the unstable hush.

Her words lit a fuse that stampeded towards an explosion. The whispers were body slammed by excited shouts as the group of people converged on Declan, asking for autographs, pictures, locks of hair – anything of him they could hold, or touch, or possess.

Time blurred as the crowd pushed in on us. The number began to grow, and I numbly recalled all the shops and boutiques surrounding the gelato shop. I’d practically marched him into his key demographic.

The more people who came to see what the excitement was, the more the excitement grew. It was surreal. They snapped pictures with their cell phones, and grabbed at him.

With a cautious but practiced smile, Declan posed for more pictures and smudged through more autographs than I could count. There was fear in the back of his eyes, but the kind you have to hide, like an animal trainer dealing with a lion that could sense fear.

“Adley, I asked if you were alright?” I hadn’t heard him the first time, overwhelmed by the situation and buzzing shouts that hummed in my ears.

I nodded, the words stolen from me.

How could I have been so stupid? Of course, he’d be recognized in public. Of course, he’d be mobbed. He was the star of the most anticipated movie of the year. It was so easy to forget.

We spent so much time together, and, to me, he was just Declan. He made movies; it was his job. When would he even have the time to go about being a celebrity?

“I texted Lazarus. He’s bringing the car around. Hold onto me, and duck your head. And, Adley, whatever you do, don’t let go…Do you understand?”

I nodded, once again incapable of more.

The crowd was happy when he was standing there, letting them leach off him, but subtle hostility rolled through the room as we began to shuffle towards the door. All it took was one look at a girl’s face, her crazed eyes narrowing intently on where Declan’s hand clasped mine, and I was happy to follow his instructions, dropping my head and wishing more than anything I could bury it in his back and pretend none of it was happening.

The car was silent. I didn’t know whether neither of us had anything to say…Or maybe, there was just too much for even words to express.

It was a long time before I spoke.

“Why did you let me take you there? You knew that would happen, didn’t you? Or, at least, you knew it could. That’s why you were acting strangely.”

He turned away from me, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t need to see his face to hear the haunted melancholy of his words.

“Sometimes I like to forget, too.”