Take a Bow (The Perfect Plans Series Book 2) (25 page)

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” I cock my head, confused.

“Well, it’s just that Alex rushed off last night just when
I
showed up,” he looks down awkwardly.

“No, no. Don’t even think that. It was just bad timing…it had nothing to do with you.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I’d hate to think I made things worse for you.”

Andrew’s words float through my head, inadvertently setting off a replay all of the run-ins I’ve had with Alex as a result of Andrew - the many misunderstood situations that he’s found Andrew and I in.
Of course Andrew’s right.
His presence last night, potentially at the worst possible moment, probably
did
make it worse.

Perception is everything…
Alex’s words inflate my remorse, guilt seeping through my pores.
Though my intent towards Andrew is innocent, I never stop to think about how it makes Alex feel. And even in this moment, when Andrew’s presence here is one hundred percent friend-based, I know that if Alex were to show up right now, it would surely make matters ten times worse.

Suddenly, I need Andrew gone. “Ummm, yeah, I wouldn’t worry about it, Andrew. But you know what, it’s been a rough day so far and I’m exhausted. Thanks so much for the coffee, but do you think we could visit another time?” I question in the most innocent tone I can muster.

“Of course, I’ll leave you to it. Just promise me that you’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do, okay?” he pushes himself up, making his way to the door.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m pretty sure there is nothing you can do to help me with this one.”

“Maybe not, but if there’s anything you need, you know where to find me.”

“That I do,” I smile, following behind him. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he winks, pulling the door open to leave, revealing Alex, standing on the other side.

Shit
, my heart drops in my chest.
Honestly, I have the worst fucking luck EVER.

“Andrew,” Alex’s greeting is curt.

“I was just leaving,” Andrew offers just as flatly.

“Hey, don’t rush off on my account.”

My eyes bulge at the razor edge in Alex’s tone.

“I wouldn’t,” Andrew is equally clipped, meeting Alex’s stance in some silent agreement of a showdown of brawn.

The testosterone bounces between them, ricocheting from chest to chest in an imaginary fight for alpha-pride.

Ugh.
I turn on my heels, leaving them standing at the door. At this point, I don’t have the strength of body or mind to deal with it.

Clearly, my departure initiated the end of the alpha-dance, as Alex makes his way in not long behind me. “Did he stay the night?”

“What?” I spin around in shock.

“I think you heard me.”

“Oh, I heard you. I just can’t believe you asked me that.”

He says nothing as he stares at me, jaw clenched.

The display is incredibly sexy and I can’t help myself from taking him all in, unable to resist devouring the length of his beautiful form. Every tense muscle is outlined in his white shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows highlighting the strength of his arms, the hem partially tucked beneath the belt of his dark blue, perfectly hanging jeans. He looks sinfully delicious. He always does.

Damn him.
Why can’t he be just another pretty face? He’s so much more…a truly wonderful man whose flaws, even in his anger, are so easily forgivable and insignificant when weighed against the pure core of the gentleman I’ve fallen in love with.

The gentleman
Julia
fell in love with.
The idea that he may still love her turns in my stomach, and I feel the need to brace myself against the ripples of acidic fear building inside me. I need to be strong.

“Why are you here, Alex?” I ask, turning to casually take a seat. It’s a move of self-preservation, and a poorly executed show of strength, my inner actress nowhere to be found, my inner dreamer still crying in the corner.

“I came to apologize.”

Oh God
. I swallow the vomit lining my throat. An image of him and Julia together, lost in the throws of reunited passion, twists my ailing heart to ice. “Where
did
you drive off to, Alex, when you left me standing on the curb last night? Did you go to
her
?”

“Her?” he spits.

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Or are we playing games now?”

“This isn’t a game, Aby, this is my life.”

It’s mine too!
I want to scream, but bite my tongue. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“No. You know damn well I wouldn’t do that.”

“Do I? I’m not really sure of anything right now,” I mutter the latter on a whisper, looking down.

“Nor am I,” he replies.

My gaze whips back to his, “What are you saying?” My heart, so full of love for this man, is breaking apart. I need to know I’m not losing him. I need him to tell me he’s choosing me, not her.

“I’m saying that yesterday was a lot to take in. I think I need some time,” he says softly, avoiding my eyes. “And,” he pauses to look at me directly, “…I’m saying I’m sorry.”

Time for?
“What are you sorry for?” I barely manage the words, my charade of strength crumbling and evident in the shaking timber of my voice. I want to curl into a ball, to close my eyes and wish this all away.
He can’t leave me to go back to her.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you last night, Aby.”

I say nothing, silent in my fear and self-doubt.
He can’t leave me for her…He wouldn’t.

“And, I’m sorry that I need to take some time to sort through everything,” his words drag me, mentally kicking and screaming away from my bubble of denial.

“What does that mean?” my thundering question shoots straight down my legs, bolting me upright to stand.

“I need time to figure everything out,” his tone is laced with an underlying plea for understanding. “Remember when you needed time?”

I fall back in place on the sofa, reeling from the punch to my stomach, the additional stab to my chest.

“Aby…”

My mind is spinning, furiously trying to win the race against the pounding of my heart.

“Aby, look at me,” he pleads.

Realizing my eyes are clamped shut, I open them to meet his gaze. The sight shatters me. He’s broken, torn and ragged from the pulling of the seams of his reality. Everything he thought was real shredded to pieces in the blink of an eye.

“I need to return to L.A. today. They can’t hold off the shoot any longer. I think…” his jaw clenches as he seems to recalculate his words. “I’m going back alone, Aby.” He stares at me in the silence, waiting for me to say something. Anything.

But I don’t. I can’t speak.

“There will be a break in filming in two weeks. I just need this time.”

I want to be strong for him, but I’m drowning in an ocean of uncertainty, the waves pulling me under, tearing him from my grasp.

“Aby, say something,” his plea is so full, yet so empty as it reaches my ears.

“I don’t know what to say, Alex,” I whisper. “What do you want me to say?” My eyes are pleading, desperately begging for him to come to me.

He doesn’t.

“I need you to say that you understand.”

“Understand that you may leave me to go back to her?” my voice quivers as I swallow back my building tears.

“Aby…I…”

“Do you still love her?” A tear trickles down my cheek, the question cutting through me, slashing my heart.

“No…I don’t know…Fuck,” he runs his hands through his hair, “…it doesn’t even matter, I…”

“It doesn’t matter?” I stand in a burst of adrenaline. “It matters to me!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” he flinches, closing his eyes, his jaw still clenched in pain. Finding my gaze, his words are cautiously soft, “This is about so much more than just Julia.”

Her name on his tongue burns through me and my body fights against it to step closer to him. I need to be closer to him, to steal the strength he’s holding, to use it as a shield for my breaking heart.

With each step closer, I realize I’m losing him. I may have lost him already. My dream world snatched away with the snap of her fingers, torn from me by the lies of their past.
Damn her!
I have to look away from him, desperate to hide the lash of contempt.
I HATE HER.

I hate myself, too. I aided in the shattering of his reality that now echoes through the demise of my own. This is why I have to let him go. He needs this from me right now. I owe him that much.

“You’re right,” I begin, looking up to him, just feet apart, the surge of his will aiding my composure. “You should go alone,” I falter slightly.

UGH, LONDON WEATHER.
It’s officially pouring. And I mean
pouring
. Although, I will say, it’s quite fittingly ironic. Mother nature seems to be mirroring my fallen tears since Alex left two days ago. Even if I wanted to venture outside - which I
do not
- her mocking cry fest is enough to keep me sheltered behind closed doors. Not that it matters. God knows I wouldn’t subject anyone to my pathetic form. Except for Stacey, of course. She’s flying here tomorrow night on the pretense of visiting Thomas, but I know that’s bullshit. My best friend is coming to my rescue. That’s what best friends do, I suppose. And, normally, I’d say it wasn’t necessary, but in this case I absolutely need my BFF.

For now, though, I think I’ll settle with pouring myself a glass of wine.
See, perfectly fitting
, I smile at my brilliance, grabbing a bottle of my favorite Shiraz.

Reaching for a wine glass, my cell phone signals a text and I freeze. Literally. I’m like a statue, my hand mid-air as I wrap my head around the idea that it could be Alex, my heart pounding loud enough to threaten shattering the glass at my fingertips. I’ve yet to hear from him, the trepidation building with every hour since he walked out the door. I’m dying to hear his voice, yet frightened to death about what he’ll be reaching out to say.

Moving incredibly slow - a sloth comes to mind - I drop my hand at my side and turn around, leaning against the countertop to stare at my phone on the island. My heart screams
pick it up, you fool
, but my head is shaking
no
. Again, literally. Gripping the countertop behind me, I watch as the reminder alert sets my phone vibrating in place, eerily akin to a puddle, its still water blasted by the pouring rain.
How fitting
.

Are we done with the weather analogies?
- my inner actress rolls her eyes.
Yup.
Sink or swim time, I reach for the phone, sighing when I realize it isn’t even him.

Subject: Rain Day

Monopoly?

Andrew

Monopoly?
Well, at least this time Andrew has good timing, I could use a distraction right now. Although, given the recent happenings, the initial thought of seeing him stings. But…Alex isn’t here
.
He’s in L.A.
And, I need a friend
. And that’s just what Andrew is - despite what Alex thinks.

I quickly type a reply…

Subject: Love Monopoly

Come on over.

An afternoon of mindless games sounds perfect
, I convince myself, making my way downstairs in time to hear Andrew knocking on the door. “Come on in,” I yell, taking a seat on the sofa.

“Hey there,” he smiles walking in, closing the door behind him. “What are you up to over here all by yourself?” he asks cautiously, though his natural playful charm seeps through.

“Ugh, being depressed,” I confess on a sigh.

“Well, I figured. Thought you could use some company. And given the weather sucks, there’s no better time like the present for a Monopoly-fest,” he holds up the board game, the box beaten up and slightly dilapidated - quite the contrast to his brilliant white, toothy smile. That grin would make the saddest frown turn upside down.

“I admit I haven’t played in years. And I mean
years
. You’ll kick my ass,” I smile half-heartedly.

“You can’t be good at everything you do, Aby,” he winks, joining me on the sofa, emptying the box of all contents on the coffee table.

I laugh - the realization that it’s not a forced one easing up my initial wary discomfort.
I’m glad he came over.
“What can I get you? Soda? Beer?” I ask, pushing myself up.

“Beer would be great, if you’ve got it,” he flashes that wide smile, arranging the blue, orange, yellow and pink money into neat little piles.

“Two brewskies coming up,” I head for the stairs, feeling lighter and more human. “I’ll grab some munchies too.”

He eyes me cautiously on my return, doling out our allotted cash, as I lay down our snacks and sit cross-legged on the floor.

I can’t help but chuckle at the neat piles of properties he’s spread out, but when I look up to his face, I see he’s still looking at me with an odd expression. “What?” I question.

“Nothing,” he smiles, “I was just wondering how you’re doing?”

“Ummm, I’ve had better days. But, so far it’s looking up,” I reach over, giving him a playful shove on the shoulder.

“Happy to be of service,” he laughs, shoving me back as he moves to sit down on the floor across from me. “So, I’m the car,” he states, pulling the silver pieces out of the bag.