Someone I Used to Know

chapter Seven

Adley


I felt like every bone in my body had been melted down until I was nothing but mush. I hated Cam for bringing me there, and I hated him for leaving me all alone to deal with this…again.

Great! On top of everything else, I was making a liar out of myself too. Cam hadn’t left me after we’d given the baby up for adoption. I’d made it clear that the only way for us to move forward, was to pretend the whole thing had never happened, and that wasn’t something we could do with a walking talking daily reminder haunting us with what we’d done, no matter how much I loved or needed him.

My escape from the soundstage had only brought me so far when I realized that I didn’t have a ride. I could’ve called a taxi, but that would involve talking to someone, and the thought of even hearing another person’s voice made me feel sick to my stomach.

I ended up in a jungle. Or at least that’s what the hanging fabric that surrounded me looked like, from my slumped seat in the back of the wardrobe department. Every color of the rainbow and beyond swung down around me like vines in the form of trousers, skirts, and dresses.

Cam and I had gone back to the loft after leaving the hospital and tried to resume a life that had never really been ours to begin with. Cam went back to Duke to finish his final semester, after withdrawing when I’d shown up sporting an extra ten pounds and carrying unbelievable news. From the loft in Raleigh, it was only a thirty-minute commute, but the distance followed him home. It wore on him, and that, in return, wore on me.

The loft was unchanged. Each night we laid the same spots as before, but the inches that separated us might as well have been a continent. Every morning, Cam had told me he loved me with a dimple-less smile, and then drove away to the dream I’d given back to him. Some mornings his shower had not been enough to cleanse the red tattoos that lined his eyes.

I lay in bed for months, staring at the ceiling for hours, trying to feel something –anything – that would break through the numb I was submerged in.

Cam cried himself to sleep every night, and I couldn’t even summon up enough emotion to return the affection that showed deeply in his brown eyes as he kissed my forehead each night. I didn’t feel shame, regret, or sadness. I didn’t feel anything at all. I was a monster.

Vanity was the first thing to break through to me. I’d stared into the mirror one afternoon, and all I saw was the weight and pounds of things I wanted to forget.

I left the loft for the first time and stood in front of a dance studio for an hour before I realized that ballet was another thing I’d unknowingly given away forever. I punished myself with harsh,vomit-inducing runs, and eventually, when I no longer saw the fat nor the perfectly thin girl I’d been before, I punished myself again by getting my very first job working as a hostess in the city.

May came, Cam graduated, and when he left for New York with the internship of a lifetime waiting for him there, he signed over the deed to his loft to me. It didn’t even feel like a break-up. In all the important ways, we could never really leave each other. ‘Break-up’ implies the end of something, and whatever had ended between Cam and I had happened months ago, in a hospital room that I kept closely locked up in my mind.

The row of clothing in front of me split open, like Moses parting the Red Sea, and Fran entered my jungle, sitting cross-legged to stare me right in the eye.

“How did you find me?” I asked, picking at a section of my hair that badly needed a trim.

“Madeline had me download an app on your phone that tracks your location.” She shrugged, like she hadn’t just admitted to violating one of my basic human rights.

“What is wrong with you people?” I was flabbergasted, and my tone accusing.

“A bevy of emotional handicaps that we over-pay our shrinks to over-medicate.” This time she smiled, and her dark eyes sparkled with humor. “Luckily, I think what’s wrong with you can be solved with a little fun. Why don’t you go out on the town tonight? We’ve wrapped for the day so you’re free.”

Fun? What insane notion was that?

“Sounds great, except that I haven’t really met anyone since I’ve been here, and going out alone would just be even more depressing.”

“Nonsense. You’ve met me.”

“You’ll go?” Surprise and doubt danced in my question.

“I’m a twenty-eight-year-old woman whose life revolves around an eighteen-year-old girl. The only other thing I have to talk about besides Madeline Little is my eight-year-old daughter, who thinks she’s a mermaid. Believe me, I’m doing you a favor by not going.” She paused to give me a calculating look that reminded me of Cam, and for a second, I was convinced she was about to call me ‘Adds’ or ‘Addy’. “Madeline could use a little fun too though.”

“No way.”

But my mind had already buzzed through every alternative I could think of and come up blank. A fun night away from the set, where I could be anonymous sounded painfully perfect…And I could dance.

Ballet was gone. I would never again feel the weightless flight of a saut de basque or the kiss of forever in a fouette, but I could still lose myself in the consuming beat of a song. I used to love that kind of dancing, too. My friends and I would drink just enough to numb the corners of our minds, and then we’d twirl and gyrate until the lights came on. I didn’t know those friends anymore though, and they wouldn’t have recognized me, even if I did know where to find them.

And that realization led to Madeline’s door, selling a night out together as a way of ‘bonding’ that would help her further her understanding of Adley Adair. She’d agreed for the “good of the film”, and then dragged me back to the wardrobe department. Apparently my rubber ducky shorts left her untrustworthy of my ability to properly dress myself.

She and Fran explained our plans to the eccentric man and woman manning the racks, and while the lean, chocolate-skinned man headed into the clothing jungle, the woman eyed me critically.

“Strip,” she ordered finally, when her eyes had feasted on every inch of my body they could inspect.

Fran gave me a severe look, which not-so-subtly suggested that I not argue with the lady who was about to do me a favor. Finding Alfred’s shadow outside the door, I quickly shimmied out of my shorts and t-shirt, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. They were plain, black, uncomplicated, but they could have been a lot worse. The matching set were far more sophisticated than the mismatched floral panties and worn out sports bra I’d almost worn.

I’d never been modest. When you spend half your life in a skintight leotard and rushing through five minute costume changes in front of a company full of other dancers (boys and girls alike), it had a way of curing you of any body insecurities.

“Wow.” Jade’s eyes caressed my abdomen and thighs. “I thought you were definitely hiding stretch marks and a spare tire under all those baggy clothes…But you’re like almost really skinny. I don’t think you can even tell you’ve had a baby.”

Oh yeah, and then there was that. My arms instantly wrapped around my midsection like a suit of armor, covering everything I could. I felt like she’d wheeled out a permanent marker and circled every imperfection.

“Not skinny enough to fit into any of your wardrobe,” the man noted, rubbing salt in my wound, as he slipped a navy dress over Madeline’s equally unclothed form.

“Please,” Fran drew the word out with a sassy flavor that tipped into her Spanish ancestry. “My body didn’t look that good before I had a baby.”

I gave her a grateful grin, but kept my arms where they were.

“Try this. It’s Trina Turk.” The woman reappeared with a silky fabric wrapped around her hands. “The gold will really set off your skin tone.”

I had no choice but to abandon my safety and raise my hands above my head to allow her to slide the slinky dress over my head.

The golden hue blindfolded me, and I wished more than anything I didn’t recognize the disapproving groan that filled the room as soon as I was blind to it. I knew it was Declan Davies getting a full view of what I’d left exposed. My cheeks were tomato red and a startling contrast to the clingy dress, once it was finally pulled into place.

“A gentleman would’ve turned his back,” I snapped, whirling away from him to stare into the three-sided floor length mirror.

“Good thing I’m Australian.” His smirk followed my eyes into the reflection.

“You’re an ass.”

The nameless woman who’d selected the frock puckered her lips in deep thought as she (along with the rest of them) ignored our banter in favor of analyzing the pretty dress that draped off one of my shoulders.

“What do you think?” the woman prompted.

It was brownish-gold that sparkled with sequined chiffon. Its’ one sleeve fluttered down my right arm, and the intricate pattern of the fabric gathered at my waist before carrying on in a strict line to mid-thigh.

I started to answer, but Declan cut me off from his new position, leaned against the doorframe, looking away from me with bored nonchalance. “She should wear something red.”

He was mocking my raging blush, and I glared at him to let him know how much I appreciated it. I was just about to let him know verbally, when once again my chance to speak was stolen away.

“Red would be stunning!” It was the tall man that rushed back into the racks this time.

“What are you sheilas raiding the wardrobe department for?” Declan filled the man’s departure with the same easy carelessness as before.

“What are you even doing here?” I barked. I hated just how much his rejection stung me. I got it – he didn’t find me attractive. There was no reason for him to act repulsed by the mere sight of me.

“Well I got a little tired of waiting for you in the car, so I came to see what the hold-up was.” There were no outward signs of the irritation I sensed hiding somewhere deep beneath his emotionless façade.

Guilt teased my gut. I’d forgotten all about him and the limo waiting for me in its usual parking spot. He didn’t give me a chance to voice my apologies though. He just always had to have the last word.

“Have fun wherever you end up, ankle biter,” he said suddenly, kicking away from the wall like the conversation was too boring to fake an interest in a second longer. He disappeared around the corner.

The wardrobe man returned almost simultaneously with Declan’s exit, and I was distracted with another dress to try on.

“It’s Valentino.”

My skin practically squealed with delight as it was reacquainted with its long lost love – expensive fabric. The dress’s crew neckline made me feel safe, while the fitted bodice showed off the new envious curve of my breasts. At the waist the formfitting red fabric spilt away from my hips and then stopped gracefully in the middle of my thighs. It was deceivingly modest, and with black heels my legs almost looked sinful.

Madeline had settled on the first dress she tried on, and the stylist paired it with dangerous stilettos that gave her enough extra height to keep her from being dwarfed by my stature.

Once we were clothed, it didn’t take long before Madeline had hair and make-up involved. The girl certainly didn’t do anything half-assed.

Two hours later, we loaded into a black SUV with tinted windows that Marissa Little-Ashford, the mom-ager, had ordered for us for the night.

“She doesn’t mind that you’re going to a club?” I asked, trying to unify the idea of a regular mom and a Hollywood mom in my head.

Madeline shook her head. Outside, a hundred famous sights whizzed by. “Mom is always telling me that I should spice up my public image if I want to be considered for more adult roles.”

With stubborn consistency, the eighteen-year-old starlet called her manager/mother ‘mom.’ Each time she spoke the word with clear, forced enunciation, and in her backwards world, it sounded unnatural. Marissa didn’t act, talk, or feel like Madeline’s mother. Why should she get to wear the title?

“Where are we going?” Some of the street names we passed looked familiar, but it had been so long since I’d driven through Los Angeles and I was clueless as to our location or direction.

“A new club downtown. Fran handled everything.”

I didn’t know what ‘everything’ meant until we arrived at the venue and were ushered through a back door. Loud music pounded in my ears and kept me from understanding what the polite, well-dressed man was saying to Madeline. I gave up trying when it seemed no one was going to ask for my ID, and I took the time to study the insides of the building.

It was a cavernous room with a bar running down the entirety of one side. The other side was made up of dozens of raised platforms with tables and leather booths. A few platforms had the curtains drawn around them, keeping prying eyes out, but others flaunted their depravity proudly, as girls poured expensive vodka into the eager waiting mouths of men in suits.

Madeline grabbed my hand and I was pulled along behind her as she followed our host to one of the curtained sections. It wasn’t empty like I expected, but instead filled with a group of ten or so people I guessed to be around our age. The music was still too loud to really hear anything, but Madeline seemed to know a few of them as she attempted to make introductions.

I just smiled and nodded like I could understand her. Red drinks were handed to us, and I happily downed the first fruity concoction, chapping my lips together at the old sting of alcohol. Another drink quickly took its place. Every once in a while a breeze would ruffle the gauzy curtain draped around us, and I could take in the dance floor that filled in the mass of space in the middle of the club.

Madeline had started what appeared to be a passionate discussion with another girl, who looked vaguely familiar, and the poor girl kept glancing away from Madeline as if she desperately wanted to escape, but couldn’t dismiss someone of Madeline’s importance.

I caught her eye, and pointed to the dance floor to let her know that’s where I was headed as I sat down my third finished beverage. Slipping down from the secluded section, I was immediately immersed in bodies.

Sweat and glitter gleamed in the erratic pulses of light as I pushed myself further onto the dance floor. Couples ground into each other, and groups of girls fought to find rhythm in uneven clusters. Hands wrapped around my waist, encouraging me to move with the stranger’s hips, but I kept moving until people pressed against me from every angle.

It was claustrophobic and overwhelming. And I loved it. I let my body revel in it, picking up the beat easily. I was just one tiny part of a mass that moved and swayed with the music. I was nobody. I was free. My hips contorted with edgy swivels, and I raised my hands to the ceiling as I let the mood consume me.

A cute, preppy-looking guy bought me another drink, so I didn’t have to fight my way back to Madeline and the free alcohol. I danced with him as I sipped. The next song came on and I danced with him again, even though I’d discarded my empty cup. My eyes were closed, letting the smooth swirls of the music slither along my spine and dig into my soul.

I was standing right across from Madeline’s booth, and I made sure to catch sight of her auburn hair through the loose curtain as often as I could. The boy’s hands squeezed my hips and my eyes popped open.

Gray.

Through a sea of bodies, I was instantly ensnared in the gray gaze that struck me like a pinpoint across the room.

Declan.

My head felt fuzzy and I knew I’d drank more than necessary to simply take the edge off. After blinking a couple times, I knew he wasn’t a figment of my imagination either. Declan was standing in the booth where I’d left Madeline, and he was staring right at me. He was dressed in dark clothes, different from the last time I’d seen him. His face arched with beautiful intensity, and I shivered despite the clammy warmth layering my skin.

How could I dislike him so much, and want him so badly? The vodka shoved the harsh reality front and center – I really did want him. I wanted to slowly unbutton his deep, blue shirt, to see if he looked as good as I remembered underneath. I wanted to run my hands along his naked skin, until there was no clothing left to hinder me.

“That was rather rude.” His voice was a blast of icy water, beating my libido back.

I’d moved towards him without conscious thought, slipping through the swarm of bodies as easily as if they’d parted for me. The white curtain billowed closed behind me. I returned his scowl with an unpleasant frown of my own.

“You just left your boyfriend to fend for himself back there,” he spoke again. His coal eyes burned like embers.

I didn’t turn around to check. The music settled into a frothy melody that carried under his words like the score of one of his movies.

“I didn’t think this was really your scene,” I blurted. Alcohol wasn’t a good idea around Declan. I needed my wits to deal with him. Declaring the first thing that popped into my head probably wasn’t going to lead anywhere good. Especially after all the dirty thoughts I’d been having about him.

Madeline bobbled to a messy stop at my side gripping my arm for support. A dark stain smeared down her navy dress, probably left by the cranberry and vodkas she’d been sipping on earlier.

“We’re going to Dan’s!” she announced yanking on me to follow her like she’d been doing all night. Although, she might have just been using me as a crutch to help her stand up, more than the fact she craved my company.

“Who’s Dan?” I stood strong. I was a little drunk, but that didn’t mean I was stupid enough to pack off to a rando’s house.

She huffed at me, irritated, and I couldn’t help but smile. She actually looked like a teenager when she did things like that.

“He’s in that band, the one that sings –,” she cut herself off to belt a few versus of a very off-key song that I was pretty sure I’d never heard.

“Dan’s a good guy,” Declan stated like that was all the stamp of approval I should need. “I’m going too.”

“Yay!” Madeline’s victory cry was accompanied by her flinging both arms into the air and then bringing them around our shoulders, sandwiching us altogether. “We can dance at Dan’s too!”

And then we were off, even without my consent, ushered into an identical car to the one we’d arrived in, though it could have very well been a completely different escort. I was just drunk enough not to care.

Dan-whoever’s house was in Silver Lake, on the east side of LA. I happily accepted the blurring activity of our arrival, in fear the recognition would spark memories of before. Silver Lake and its neighbor Echo Park were old hangouts of mine.

There weren’t that many people at Dan’s, maybe twenty or thirty, even though his rather large abode could have held many more, and I quickly made my way to the bar to find a drink. When I found Madeline again, she was sitting on a leather sofa in the spacious living room. The curved space was counteracted by furniture with harsh angles, and the centerpiece of it all was the huge, perfectly square coffee table. Most of the partygoers were gathered around it. There was no room on either side of Madeline, so I took one of the unoccupied chairs across from the couch.

“Here’s how the game works,” a guy with dreadlocks was explaining as I settled with the group. “Each person has to come up with something they’ve never done like ‘I’ve never jumped out of a plane naked,’ and every person in the circle who has jumped out of a plane naked, has to drink.”

“Really, Dan?” a model skinny girl bristled in a belittling drawl. “I played this in high school.”

“Okay, well here’s where the fun part comes in,” dreadlocks continued, either not noticing the girl’s disdain or not caring. His baby face was twisted with a devilish smile. The smirk wasn’t half as charming as Declan’s. “When you run out of your current drink, you have to start removing clothing items instead.”

My eyes rushed down into my half empty cup. I’d just been sucking down the tart liquid with little regard to finishing it. I rearranged my legs nervously, trying to look casual as I waited for someone else to bow out and offer me a way to slip out without drawing attention to my cowardice. Lastly, I peeked at Madeline. She was my last hope…But the little traitor hadn’t even batted an eyelash at the scandalous rules to the game.

“I’ve never hooked up with a groupie.” The same girl who’d showed her distaste for the idea of the game earlier was the first to rattle off with a slyly pointed smirk at Dan.

He, along with several other guys and one girl, had to take a sip of their drinks. My eyes instinctively searched for Declan, but he wasn’t here. I hadn’t seen him since we’d arrived.

“I’ve never been killed off a series for f*cking with the unstable lead actress.” The next guy’s offering was obviously pointed, and my eyes pilfered the circle until they came to rest on the attractive guy to my right who was forced to take a reluctant swallow. The group roared with laughter at some joke I didn’t understand.

Ruffling his blonde hair, his clear, light-blue eyes caught me staring, and he gave me a mischievous shrug.

“I’ve never been to college,” a pug faced girl contributed.

I took a tiny sip of my drink, and I noticed the blond guy watching me do it out of the corner of his eyes. The game went on like that. By the time I’d finished my drink half the room was already down to their undies, and the game didn’t seem so bad anymore.

“I’ve never performed live on stage,” someone said.

I slipped off a shoe while the pug faced girl ripped off her bra and sat bare breasted for anyone to see. I’d only thought I wasn’t modest until that moment. These people put me to shame. I lost my other shoe when someone admitted they’d never been out of the country, and with that I was out of non-scandalous pieces of clothing to remove.

“I’ve never taken a pregnancy test,” said a guy with a devious grin at all the females. He was clearly smug about his addition, thinking it the cleverest thing of all time.

Almost all the girls began removing pieces of clothing while they cackled and wiggled to free themselves. The blond guy noticed my frozen uncertainty, and he tipped his cup towards me, offering me the remaining contents. There was one sip left.

I looked up at his boyishly handsome face with surprise. He was willing to give up his last sip so I could keep my dress. It was a strange kindness, but I beamed at him nonetheless. It was my turn to surprise him when instead of taking his offering, I swiveled away from him and pulled my long hair over my shoulder.

“Can you give me a hand with the zipper?” I asked coyly, gazing up at him through my eyelashes. The alcohol empowered me. It begged me to flirt. I was a slave to the contact it yearned for.

He swallowed hard once, before quickly adhering to my request. His hands were warm on my back, and then I was free of the beautiful dress, sitting in nothing but my underwear that had been seen by far too many people in one day. Somehow, I was still one of the most dressed girls there. Madeline’s jewelry had granted her a lot more options than I’d had, and she was the only one still wearing any real covering. I was practically a saint compared to some of these people, and I managed to keep my bra and panties while the blonde boy beside me was shimmied down to his boxers.

“We should go swimming!” a girl cried enthusiastically. She had long ago lost all her wardrobe. I thought she was probably just bored without a way to join in on the game anymore, but her idea suited me just fine. I got to keep my ‘almost’ really skinny body at least semi-covered.

I stood up, happy to have an excuse to leave the game, and followed the three other people who also felt like a midnight swim. Except that two of them got sidetracked by a bedroom, and the girl who’d been the one to suggest the idea, walked over to one of the pool chairs and promptly passed out face down. It was as close as she got to the water.

The pool was perfectly circular, and multicolored lights danced from beneath the surface to waver among the shadows of the night. My fuzzy mind sighed happily at the peacefulness of the scene. It was quiet besides the gentle lapping of the water against the sides of the pool.

I sensed a presence behind me, but I ignored it, walking to dip my feet in the water on the descending steps. The water crawled up my legs, as the soothing temperature lured me down two more steps, until I was submerged up to my thighs. I looked up towards the sky, hoping that maybe, just this once, the stars would shine bright enough to overpower the City of Angels.

“So which is it: model, musician, actress?” the handsome blonde asked casually, joining me on the other side of the steps. He was still as undressed as he’d been for the game. The same as me.

“How about – ‘D’ none of the above.” I stepped fully into the pool, the water tickling the bottom of my exposed ribcage. Facing him with a mysterious smile, I sauntered backwards, enjoying the texture of liquid curling around my torso.

He stopped on the second step and took a seat as he watched me with an intrigued gleam in his crystal blue gaze. “What’s your name?”

My smile only got wider. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

I used to be good at this. Flirting had come easily to me, and it had earned me a lot of attention in high school. It wasn’t until I’d stopped flirting, that Cam even deemed to honor me with his attention. He’d been too old to play my games, and I’d been more than happy to give them up for him. I’d thought I’d lost that part of myself forever too, but apparently all it needed was a little liquor to trick it out of hiding.

“Tyler Warford,” he replied smoothly, running a confident hand through his stylish blond locks. I liked that he didn’t need me to spell it out for him.

I was hungry for the look in his eyes. I wanted him to desire me the way Declan clearly didn’t. Tyler made me feel sexy and invincible. Or maybe it was the alcohol that made me feel sexy and invincible, but either way I felt good. I felt wanted.

“I’m –,”

“Adley, what the f*ck?” He appeared from nowhere, almost like he’d materialized right out of the night. Declan’s eyes scolded me with their fierceness, and I quickly snatched my arms into place around my body. An entire room full of people ogling me didn’t make me feel an ounce as exposed as one look from him.

“Hey, man. We were just talking,” Tyler tried to defuse the situation he didn’t fully understand, but he could clearly read the confrontation that radiated from Declan’s voice and stance.

Declan ignored him, not even bothering to utter a word in his direction. Instead all of his anger was focused on me.

“It’s time to go. Madeline’s waiting in the car. I’m taking you home.”

For just a second, I thought about defying him. Who did he think he was, ordering me around? I was a grown woman. He had no right to tell me what to do.

I looked towards the alternative. Tyler would probably be more than happy to fulfill any need I might have, but I wasn’t under any delusions that he didn’t have a habit of turning those pretty, blue eyes on girls like me all the time. He’d been using me just as much as I was using him, and what had seemed fun and exciting, suddenly felt dirty.

Without a word to either one of them, I got out of the pool and marched through the house dripping water on every surface I passed. Declan’s limo was pulled right up to the front of the house, and the driver didn’t even blink at my undressed state as I climbed through the door he held open. Madeline was stretched out asleep on the extended side seat, leaving me to take my soggy place as far away from Declan as possible on the short bench seat after he followed me inside.

I would be surprised if I didn’t have crisscrossing bruises across my skin where my arms wrapped viciously around my body. Stubborn silence sewed our lips together, and my eyes resolutely lodged on the tinted black of the windows. I heard shuffling movements beside me, which I was more than happy to ignore, until he nudged my arm, forcing me to look at the shirt he’d removed to offer in my direction. I’d fantasized about unbuttoning that exact shirt earlier, and I sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of his subtly toned torso and chest.

As much as the sight tempted me, it also enraged me. I wanted him and he couldn’t even bear to look at me. I ripped the shirt from his hands and flung it as hard as I could away from us.

“I hate you,” I snarled, wrenching my arms away from body and refusing to cover myself a second longer.

I wasn’t ugly. Tyler Warford or whoever the hell he was sure wasn’t trying to cover me up. Plenty of guys hit on me. Declan Davies could go f*ck himself and his phobia of my body.

The silence persisted long after we’d dropped Madeline off at her home. Finally we pulled up outside of Cam’s house, but an unsettling realization poured over me and I made no move towards the door. I couldn’t.

“Bet your regretting your little temper tantrum now,” Declan’s smug words almost pushed me over the edge.

He was right though. My state of undressed left me with no choice but to make the long walk across Cam’s manicured yard in nothing but my bra and panties.

“I hate you,” I repeated with a ragged breath of frustration. There was no way out of the situation without bruising my pride.

“Stop saying that,” his words were shackled with a grimace.

I faced him fully. My posture was confrontational, and I felt willful. I wanted to defy him in every way I could. “Why? Why should I? It’s true. I hate you.”

He jerked forward, extending his body down the long stretch of the car to grab his discarded shirt. It still remained in a wrinkled ball where I’d flung it. He sat back, closer than before. His proximity struck me lightheaded. All I could do was take a deep breath. He smelled like something indescribably delicious.

“I don’t like it,” he admitted quietly, as his eyes and movements focused on threading my limp hand through the arm of the shirt. I had almost forgotten my question. It took me a minute to wander back to sense.

“Why?” I whispered this time, making no move to stop him from dressing me like I was a doll. I wasn’t going to help him either though.

He’d gotten my other arm through the shirt and started slowly buttoning it back together. He took his time, and even though I couldn’t see his hooded eyes feasting on the skin he covered, I could feel its scorching hot tracks across my chest.

“I don’t know.” His eyes finally met mine as he finished, and I could see the truth as much as I could see how much it bothered him.

There was a flicker of something buried deeply in depths of gray, a hint at the fire that could have ignited the whole car, and burned up both of us in its powerful wake. It was just a glimpse, but once I’d seen it, I knew it to be true.

He wanted me too. He desired me in all the same ways I did him.

Our faces were so close, and my eyes fluttered shut as I breathed him in. All he had to do was inch forward. He wanted it too. I knew it.

So close…

His lips began to move, but not nearly with the purpose I’d expected them too.

“You should be more careful with how you act around Madeline.”

I groaned, falling away from him and letting my head bang into the window with a sharp sound.

I wanted to slap him. I wanted to scream. I wanted to kiss him whether he wanted me to or not. I wanted to hurt him. I craved the feeling of his lips on mine. I wanted to lash out. I wanted to taste him. I wanted to consume him.

But more than anything, I really just wanted him to shut the f*ck up. He ruined everything by opening his mouth.

So I told him so and left it at that, giving him the finger over my shoulder as I walked away.