Someone I Used to Know

chapter Eight

Declan


My favorite thing about America had to be the numerous forms of diabetes-inducing treats they’d concocted. I inspected the surplus of chocolates, candies, and pastries that spread out over the crafts table. A sprinkle-topped donut caught my eye, and I considered taking it to Adley. Maybe it would cheer her up. She’d been absolutely no fun on the drive to work that morning, wearing dark sunglasses and only groaning out a complaint about her headache before shutting me out altogether.

“Drop the donut,” Madeline barked, looking decidedly not hung-over. The redhead even seemed a little chipper. “We’ve got a kissing scene today, Davies. If you think I’m getting any second hand calories from your pour diet, think again.”

The Queen Bee stopped in front of me, flocked by her hive. I jumped from face to face until I found Adley in the back. I grinned at the sight of her. That was how you were supposed to look after a night of hard drinking: hair a mess, dark circles under the eyes, slight cringe at the meekest of noises.

“You recovered nicely, ankle biter,” I addressed my costar before taking a sizeable bite out of the sprinkled confection just to be defiant.

Her eyes narrowed and hands curled into irritated fists.

“My trainer wasn’t thrilled with the sugar intake from four Shirley Temples, but a couple of extra lunges ‘recovered’ me just fine.” There was snarky pride in her statement. Her wide smile showed off two lines of perfectly straight teeth. She gave a belittling shake of her head, freeing her auburn locks from her shoulders. “I’d never actually get drunk at such a pivotal point in my career. I decided to use the experience as an acting exercise. Seems like I fooled you.”

I felt heat from Adley’s pointed stare, but I kept my eyes on Madeline, even if my attention was elsewhere.

“Ace! I thought for sure you had a gutful of piss,” I congratulated her, having to hide a smirk as her eyes turned the color of the sea before a storm. She hated not being able to understand my slang, and I was all too aware of the pet peeve. Because she didn’t know the meaning behind what I was saying, she could never tell if I was making fun of her or not. It was wrong to use the quirk against her, but she just made it too damn easy.

“Adley,” she snapped drawing the blond forward. “Text Fran, so she can add whatever he just said to my list.”

There wasn’t an ounce of fight in her as Adley did the younger girl’s bidding, pulling out her cell phone as Madeline took her convoy and left us alone.

“Where’s Fran?” I asked at the same time she croaked, “What list?”

I chuckled at our blunder, but she had already dismissed her curiosity and started typing, resolute in her decision to not enjoy my company.

“Madeline keeps a list of all my Australian jargon. She claims to be unable to understand me half the time,” I told her, even though her body language told me she didn’t care anymore. I subtly attempted to coax her gaze up to meet mine without much luck.

“Fran’s daughter is sick,” she plowed on briskly, “Ace?”

My huff was saturated with aggravation. I wanted her to know I didn’t like playing her game. It didn’t mean I wasn’t going to play though.

“Ace is just like saying good job or excellent.”

She turned to walk away, not even bothering to stand still to finish the message, her head bowed and shoulders hunched over the glowing cellular device.

“A gutful of piss,” I reminded loudly before she could get too far away. I didn’t like her acting this way. It was defeated, and it bothered me more than it should.

“Wha-.” She stopped mid-step, rubbing her temple with her fingers trying to massage away the pain that lingered there. Unlike Madeline, Adley’s drinks had contained something a lot more lethal than grenadine. “Oh, right…the list.”

“‘A gutful of piss’ just means you’re drunk,” I filled in, happy to give her what she wanted, but reluctant to let the conversation be over. I wasn’t ready to be done with her yet.

“You people sure have a way with words.” Even her sarcasm wasn’t holding up to its normal standards.

I made an unpleasant face. The pitiful attempt almost made it sound like she was actually complimenting me. Ugh. I didn’t like that at all. It made me feel like a buzzard picking at a lifeless carcass. It wasn’t any fun if she didn’t give as good as she got.

The thought struck me numb. If the fun was gone, then why was I bothering? I should’ve lost interest long ago.

The image of Adley dancing the night before, filled my head.

In her All-American, blonde-hair-blue-eyes way, she had always been pretty – beautiful even. There had never been any denying that she was a particular brand of attractive, even though I spent a lot of time assuring myself she didn’t attract me…Except that as I watched her dance at the club last night, what I’d felt defied the mere simplicities of beauty or appeal.

I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off of her. It had become a physical impossibility, as if I’d been ensnared in some witch’s spell. I could see nothing but her.

Her hair had been trimmed; taking away some of the beachy stringiness that had reminded me of the surfer girls back home. Instead of ragged waves, the sandy locks had twisted into full curls that fell around her face with careless abandon as she moved. The red I’d suggested for her dress wasn’t just catching my attention. Almost every bloke who passed her took the time to roam over the tantalizing curves that could’ve easily been cultivated into a weapon if she ever cared enough to learn how.

She might have been a little bit more polished, but in the end she was still Adley. Her appearance was one thing. Beauty was no rare commodity in La La Land, or elsewhere in my life. Beautiful girls were everywhere.

It was the way she danced. It was the look on her face. It was wholly unattainable.

And just for a second, I’d caught a glimpse of something utterly breathtaking.

Wasn’t that what I’d been looking for all along? Didn’t I just want to see what had called Cam’s pen to paper? Hadn’t I been searching for that Adley Adair? – The one who could spark such remarkable inspiration?

What I saw hadn’t been the antidote I needed though. Far from it. It was a mere tease. All I wanted was more. The seductive movement of her body begged me to figure her out, not the girl Cam had known, but the enigma in front of me. I wanted to f*ck her until I knew every inch of her sinful body, and her secrets, had nowhere else to hide.

“Jim’s sick.” The tech savvy AD was standing right in front of me, leaving me to wonder how long I’d been lost in my salacious thoughts. Long enough for him to start a conversation with me, apparently.

“Jim?” I grappled momentarily trying to find my way back to reality. It was like swinging a bat and trying to hit a baseball in the dark. “…right. Jim Bingle. He plays Mr. Adair.”

The AD nodded slowly, his pockmarked face scrunching with worry at my strange behavior. He was probably scared I was going to lose it, and he’d have to find a new job.

“His scenes were being filmed today. Georgia decided to do the reshoots of the date scene today instead…They’re expecting you in wardrobe now.”

He walked away, having finished his report, but I was incapable of rushing off right away like I needed to. I was forced to continue my falsely interested study of the crafts table, to keep from displaying any visible signs of my naughty thoughts. Damn Adley.

Madeline beat me there. Surprise, surprise. As I was redressed and enduring a face full of powder, I couldn’t help but sneak glances at Adley. Not that she noticed, hunched in a chair in the corner. I was almost positive she was sleeping under the safety of her sunglasses. My theory was only encouraged when Madeline announced it was time to move to set, and Adley wobbled to her feet, disoriented.

I led the way, since I had no excuse to walk with her, and she was dragging at the back of the group. It wasn’t until I entered the soundstage that I realized the lack of herd behind me. Madeline appeared a few minutes later, looking oddly lonesome with only her eccentric acting coach at her side.

“Lose a few, ankle biter?” I inquired casually.

Madeline looked around like she was surprised I’d noticed…Or maybe it was that she hadn’t even noticed. She was just self-obsessed enough to make the oversight a possibility.

“Adley wasn’t paying attention and tripped down the stairs. She claims she’s fine. She just twisted her ankle, but Alfred took her back to my trailer to put some ice on it.”

Something unfamiliar, as cold as ice, crawled up to take residence in my stomach. It was completely opposite of the fiery acid that had nearly burned a hole right through my chest at the sight of Adley in that pool with Tyler Warford the night before. Tyler Freaking Warford.

The bloke was known for one thing in Hollywood; f*cking up America’s Sweetheart’s heads and hearts so bad they had to cut the second season short of the number one show on television, while the young actress completed a stint in rehab. And Adley was just chatting it up with him all smiles in her bloody underwear! Did she have any clue how damn sexy she looked with water dripping down her nearly nude body? Tyler freaking Warford sure did.

Jealousy wasn’t such a foreign emotion that I didn’t know what I was feeling. I knew what it was even if I didn’t exactly understand why I was experiencing it. Hearing Adley had injured herself evoked a twinge of the same protectiveness I felt for Madeline…Except I’d never wanted to have sex with Madeline. Even the idea of it made me want to gag, my mind instinctively flashing to my sisters. Disgusting.

Maybe I felt a sense of responsibility for Adley. She was alone, her only connection gone off to New York. That, combined with physical attraction, was cueing all sorts of misfires in my brain, discombobulating my reasoning.

It was an effort to stop my fingers restless tapping as Madeline and I took our marks. I reprimanded myself and tried to clear my mind in preparation for the scene we were about to film. My focus was all over the place. It was completely unprofessional.

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind about whose fault it was. It certainly wasn’t the Adley Adair I was getting ready to make out with, either.

***

“Declan!” Madeline exclaimed, not giving Georgia a chance to yell ‘cut’. “It’s your line! You missed it again!”

Georgia stepped into the shot, giving Madeline a look that clearly stated that she should worry about her own lines and let the director do her job.

“I’m a real whacker today. I’m just a little off my game, Georgie.” I tried to charm her with a smile I’d been told was dazzling, but my heart wasn’t really in it.

Defeat hung her head forward, as a messy gray and raven avalanche obscured her surely disappointed expression.

“That’s a wrap for the day,” she called loudly to the whole crew. I’d already started to hurry away, but she didn’t bother to lower her grumbling voice, “That face better sell more tickets than Twilight with all the shit I’ve had to put up with.”

“Wait a second, Davies.” Madeline was quickly on my trail. “What the hell was that back there? I’m finally filming some decent takes, and you decide to go all Degrassi: The Next Generation on me? What is this – amateur hour?”

“Did you even check to make sure she was really okay?” I snapped over my shoulder.

She lagged behind as I powered on. I’d done the impossible. I’d struck Madeline Little speechless…at least temporarily.

“You mean Adley? She said she was fine –.”

“She says a lot of things, but did you even bother to care that she might have really been injured?”

“She’s fine! God, Declan, she just twisted her ankle. Mom was going to give her something for the pain.” Her tiny legs worked twice as hard to keep up with my strides. When she spoke again, it was twisted with a reluctant hiss of suspicion. “Why do you even care?”

There it was again. Why did I care?

I had no answers to a lot of questions pertaining to Adley. Why didn’t I kiss her last night when I had the chance? I wanted to. Any straight male on the planet would’ve wanted to.

I would’ve taken everything – anything – she gave me. I’d own her body and take pleasure in making her scream out the answers to all her puzzles, mysteries, and secrets.

But I hadn’t.

My feet slowed to stop as I let Madeline catch up with me. My mouth tensed in preparation, knowing I’d have to choose my words carefully.

“It worries me when I see you putting your job before normal human responses…Be honest, if Adley really had been hurt would you have helped her, even if it meant being late for your call time?” I was deflecting, but the sustenance of my inquiry still held truth.

“She twisted her ankle, Davies,” her words chewed their way out through tense, stubborn lips. “If she’d broken her neck then I can assure you I would have gotten her to a hospital.”

I spread a tremendously fake grin on and ruffled her hair in a way that I knew would irritate her further. “There’s that humanity I love to see, ankle biter.”

“You’re a dick,” she said, capturing Adley’s superior briskness perfectly. She was a better actress than I gave her credit for. That was dead on.

“Like I’ve never heard that before.” I didn’t bother to stick around.

I heard her huff after me, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I might have heard the distinctive sound of a foot stomp as well. “Where are you going now?”

“To drop my clothes off at wardrobe then I’m going to help Adley get to the car…See, I’ve got a little bit of that humanity in me too.”

Even as I walked away, I could feel Madeline’s suspicion marking me, making plans to keep a closer eye on me from here on out.

Getting Adley to the car was easier said than done. Apparently “give her something for the pain,” was a code for, “give her a handful of whatever pharmaceutical goodies were rolling around in the bottom of Marissa Little-Ashford’s purse.”

Adley was as high as a kite.

Once I’d managed to get her babbling ass into the car, she proceeded to slump over in my lap, facedown in my crotch. The visual was a little too tempting, and I quickly pushed her off. She pouted at me. Her hair had come loose from the messy ponytail she’d constructed that morning, and wild sandy waves fell in her face.

“You should be nicer to me.” Her voice almost escaped the tiniest slur that chased it.

I gave her a doubtful look.

“You’re living in my country now, buddy! Have some respect.” She even added a little salute to her sudden patriotic outburst. It would’ve been more effective had she not missed her forehead and almost gauged out an eye.

It was a struggle not to laugh.

“And what has America ever done for me?”

“Star Wars aaaaand…cheeseburgers! And Harry Potter – no wait, he’s British, right?” She didn’t even wait for me to respond as she launched into a spirited British accent. “Bloody hell, Ron Weasley! Fetch my unicorn, mate! We’ll have a bit of fish and chips! Oh bugger. Four leaf clovers! Big Ben!”

“Are you supposed to be European or having an epileptic fit? And four leaf clovers are Irish, by the way.”

But she ignored me, and instead turned her butchering of impressions Down Under, trying to mimic my accent. “Vegemite and…”

“Vegemite?” I scoffed, laughing loudly when she trailed off blankly. “Vegemite? That’s all you’ve got?”

She struggled for a moment, wiping her hair out of her eyes with a heavy hand, as her face sagged with sudden exhaustion. Frowning at me one last time, she finally gave in and closed her eyes, but not before whispering, “Kangaroos.”

I let her sleep the rest of the ride home.

“We’re here,” I informed her when the car arrived at Cam’s.

No response.

With a cautious hand I reached out to nudge her. We weren’t really on ‘touching’ terms. Besides, the night before, when I’d dressed her in my shirt, I didn’t think we’d actually touched at all. I felt an irrational spark of warmth rush through my fingertips as I made contact with her arm.

I was just about to check her pulse when she groaned and shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut forcefully.

“Okay then, shall I ask our dear driver, Mr. Lazarus, if he minds you camping out in his backseat for the night?” I questioned using my most logical tone.

Her blue eyes opened into thin slits that glared at me. “Carry me, you whacker.”

I was almost positive ‘whacker’ wasn’t in the normal American vernacular. It was another way we Australians could call someone an idiot or an a*shole. I stared at Adley in amazement, not that she could see having already drifted off into Never Never Land again.

I wanted to kiss that mouth that had just used my own slang against me. It was truly unfair how something so simple could get me so worked up. She was turning me into a fifteen year old boy who’d never had a good root in his life.

“Last chance to change your mind,” I told her hesitantly. I didn’t want her to freak out and give me a black eye or something. That seemed like something she’d do; tell me to carry her and then go ballistic when I fulfilled her demand.

“Quit being a baby. I’m sleepy. My feet feel like they weigh a hundred pounds. Carry me, bitch.” Her face curved into the cutest pucker as she ordered me about. I kind of liked this bossy side of her.

“Your wish is my command.”

Sweeping a girl off her feet was a lot less graceful than I’d imagined, but with a little help from the driver, we got Cam’s house unlocked. I sent him back to the car as I followed Adley’s murmured directions to her bedroom. It was all going splendidly until I took a turn to quickly and rammed her head on the doorframe of her room.

“Son of a bitch!”

Yep, she was definitely awake. She clutched her injured head as she howled curses.

“I think you all are trying to kill me,” she told me as I laid her on the bed. The room was bland, giving absolutely nothing away about its inhabitant. There were no personal touches or knick-knacks strewn about or clues about her past.

Above the covers, her body curled into a tight ball around the nearest pillow.

“I haven’t exactly decided what I want to do with you yet,” I admitted with a sigh, taking a heavy seat beside her. Her eyes were closed and, even if she was still semiconscious, I highly doubted she’d be able to remember this tomorrow. “I find you far more interesting than I’d initially planned.”

“I want to have sex with you a lot more than I’d originally planned.” Her mouth was mashed into a pillow, obscuring the words, but I heard them loud and clear.

My ego swelled, blooming right across my smirking lips. She might have been f*cked out of her mind, but at least I knew I was getting under her skin just as much as she was getting under mine. And it seemed we were both more interested in getting under each others’ clothes.

I didn’t even realize I’d leaned over until my lips grazed her forehead in the lightest kiss. At first I was stunned by my gentle actions, but then my own laughter caught me off guard.

“You smell horrible,” I told her, still chuckling. I leaned over to brush my lips over her forehead again.

And then I abruptly stopped laughing at all, slowly backing away from the bed like it held explosives. It practically did…

Being intrigued by someone by itself was one thing, and when you add in the physical attraction, we were already moving into dangerous territory, but if I was willing to hang out with her while smelled like a bar and wasn’t even conscious we were at Threat Level Orange: danger, danger Will Robinson.

No way in hell was I getting seriously involved with Adley Adair. She was a mess – a disaster really. Emotionally repressed didn’t even begin to describe it. This girl needed a therapist. I couldn’t possibly like her. It wasn’t even option.

No bloody way.