|
Chapter 17: Faith In Me
And I know right now
you're
broken in two
“Great. Just what I need.” She scanned the articles again to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. Shannon rubbed her temples, papers stacked in front of her, the latest headlines mocking her. The ordeal she had to go through in the name of public relations. Feeling a migraine coming on she reached for the bottle of Tylenol that was wedged somewhere in her purse. Cursing as she rifled through her things she let out a frustrated groan. Why did she always have to get caught up in these things? “Damn me for being a friend. You’re such a sucker for people with problems.” She muttered to herself as she located the cursed pill bottle. She popped open the lid and reached for the water in front of her. “What are you two doing?” She asked aloud swallowing the pills, her eyes focusing back on the pictures. “What are you doing? This will ruin everything.” She tapped the faces in front of her. “Tell me there is a good excuse for this.” She contemplated calling them, but figured there had to be an explanation. “Tell me this is all part of the plan.” She glanced back down at the pictures. “One of you better call me to explain all this or we’re screwed.” She looked over at the phone expecting it to ring. It didn’t. “We’re so screwed,” she repeated resting her head against the table. “Totally screwed.” *************************** For someone who had drunk that much
the night
before, the after effects weren’t that harsh. No real
headache.
No nausea. Instead, Shane Filan awoke into warmth. A sense
of peace that made him feel like everything was right. It was
settling.
It made him feel whole. Hugging his pillow tighter to him, he let out a small yawn. His eyes squinted as a sliver of light hit him. His arm lifted up instinctively to block it before falling back down again against his chest. But it wasn’t his chest and that wasn’t a pillow he’d been hugging. It was too warm. He looked down. Long brown hair fanned out, perfectly manicured nails. He searched for his other arm. It was tucked underneath her. He moved it. “Stop groping me.” “Ali?” Her head lifted up slowly. She grumbled something incoherent before her head fell back against him. She settled the sheets around her. “Ali?” “Hmmm…” He must have drunk more than he thought. Why wasn’t she freaking out? “Ali?” “Sleep...” “Ali.” She propped herself up. “What?” He gave her the look. His look. “No. I’m not drunk. But can we talk about this later? I’m too tired and I’ve got rehearsals in...” She stopped as she tilted her eyes and squinted at the clock next to her. “In a couple of hours.” He looked over. The red numbers blinked at him. The studio! He scrambled across her grabbing the alarm clock. “Oh shit!” He was late. He’d never hear the end of it from Nicky. Aliesa tiredly sighed as she squirmed underneath him. “They’re not expecting you this early. I talked to Bryan yesterday.” And that’s when he remembered last night. “Can you move Shane? I'm finding it difficult to breathe here.” He froze. “He came by?” “Didn’t I say that? Shane. Move?” She huffed. She felt the weight shift. He moved. She breathed out in relief. “Thank you.” She scampered up back against the pillows as she heard him scoot to the end of the bed, sitting there. She heard him take a breath, and then another, and another, and then a pause. “Ali?” Her eyes opened wearily. She took in the sight before her. His left palm was pressed against his forehead, his right hand against his neck. He looked worried. “What?” She acknowledged. “How much do you know?” She pushed the covers down. He wasn’t going to let her go back to sleep. She achingly sat up against the headboard. “I know you ran into Gillian.” “Shit.” His hands fell to his side, pressing against the mattress. “Bryan?” He asked already knowing what she’d say. “Last night.” “Shit.” Aliesa smoothed her fingers along the sheets. That seemed to be his choice word of the morning. “He came looking for you. When you weren’t here he assumed we were fighting about her. He told me you saw her the other day.” She heard him curse again under his breath. He stood up. It didn’t take a genius to
know. The
expression. The tenseness. He was one pissed off
Westlifer.
“You want to talk about it?” she said softly knowing in the back of her mind he was probably going to just blow her off. The question caught him off guard. He stared at her perplexed; his mouth gaped open just a little. Surely, this wasn’t the same person he’d been spending the last couple of months with. He pried open his jaw. “Sorry?” She wasn’t sure how best to respond to the skepticism in his voice. So she just repeated it. “You want to talk about it?” He turned to look behind him. “Stop acting like hell has frozen over.” She frowned suddenly feeling terribly self-conscious. “It’s just a question.” She bit her nail. Shane raked his fingers through his hair and sat back down on the bed. “What did Bryan tell you?” “Well for one thing he was nervous.” He nodded so she continued. “And he kept on saying how you didn’t plan it and that I shouldn’t be worried because it’s not like I think.” A heavy pause filled the air. “Well he’s right. I didn’t plan it,” he said suddenly, a bit off. “She just showed up out of nowhere.” He broke off and looked at her, really looked at her. She swallowed, unnerved. His eyes lowered to the bedspread. “I saw her yesterday before you came into the studio. That’s why I was off. She acted like everything hadn’t changed. Like it was all the same.” Aliesa could hear the hurt masked in his voice. He hid it well, but she sensed it because she was a master of the same game. This was a side to Shane Filan she’d never seen. And it made him much too human in her eyes. “It rattled me. Just added to this whole thing. I don’t even know why I’m explaining this to you. Like you even care.” “I asked didn’t I?” Aliesa replied, her voice low, wondering to herself why for the first time in a long time she was actually telling the truth. His eyes met hers, a flicker of doubt and confusion. She turned her gaze away first. “So why is Bryan so worried? You just saw her right?” “Sort of.” “Sort of?” “This is the second time I’ve seen her in the past week. I saw her a couple of weeks ago. We’ve gone off and talked. We went out once.” “You went out?” “Briefly.” He chewed on his lower lip. “Bryan knew. I told him not to say anything. That’s probably why he got nervous about it. He knows how I am with Gillian.” He cocked his head to the side. This time there was no mistaking the vague expression that filled his eyes. And Aliesa felt bad. She actually felt bad for the way she’d been treating him. Suddenly it was like she had to make it up to him somehow. Prove that she wasn’t the bitch he made her out to be. Aliesa pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, pressing her body forward. “Can I ask you something?” He didn’t protest. “Did you love her?’ It was personal and they both knew it. The words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding. He sat utterly still, not a muscle moving. He didn’t even blink. For a minute she thought she’d stepped on the already thin line between them, more so than she already had. That she was an idiot for even thinking that maybe somehow he would even contemplate opening up like that to her. And then his voice came out like a whisper. “Yes,” he said finally. “Yes. I did.” “I loved Christian.” She confessed if only in the name of someone else who could sympathize, someone who understood the emptiness and the loneliness. “I loved him more that I ever allowed myself to.” She rested her hands on her knees; each word leaving her lips a small staccato beat in a sentence, an attempt to rationalize them both. “People like us don’t let many people in. It’s complicated and we’re afraid to. And me…I don’t like being out of control like that. Because you only get hurt.” She gulped. “But I let myself even though I knew I would regret it.” She stared off. She promised herself last night to fix their mess. If baring herself was the way to do it she would. “I can understand why you went out last night. And I’m sorry I reacted the way I did. Whether you believe it or not I really was worried. You’re the only person who remotely understands what’s going on in my head right now.” Her words struck a chord. “Why are you telling me this?” “I don’t know,” she replied truthfully. He cleared his throat, an uncomfortable, awkward sound. “Was I that bad last night?” Her lips twitched at the memory. “You told me I was your angel, that I smelled like vanilla, and you demanded I stay here with you.” Shane Filan turned a shade of crimson. “I didn’t.” “Oh yeah. You did,” she affirmed. “But don’t worry. I’m used to the whole waking up next to you drunk so I wasn’t too appalled. All in a day’s work right?” His face took on a somber expression then. “I’m sorry. If it makes any difference.” She waved him off. “Life is filled with too many of those don’t you think?” He mulled her words over. Maybe he’d been wrong about her. “We never understood each other have we?” “No. I suppose we haven’t.” “You want to start? She bit her nail. “Like almost friends?” “I guess so.” He said hesitantly a bit unsure of what he was asking them to do. “But it’s not like I’m expecting this big change or forgetting about everything that’s happened.” “Right. I mean how can we?” She regarded it contemplatively as they sat there in his bed. Was it time to let bygones be bygones? She hesitated, as she always did when it came to things having to do with Shane Filan, but then nodded agreeing to it thinking the wiser. “Only if you promise me something.” He raised an eyebrow at the request. “I’m okay with us being better than cordial. But…” She reached over and lightly ran her fingers in his hair. It was sticking up in all sorts of places and it was driving her mad. “We have to do something about that hair of yours.” He reached up and stopped her traveling fingers, setting her hands down by her sides. She gave her head a little shake. “Is that a no?” “It depends. Will you go to the store and get more juice?” She let out a smothered, chocking sort of laugh. She knew she was going to regret this tomorrow. She was probably going to regret this in ten minutes, but what the hell? This was now. “I’m driving your car to get it.” Chapter
18
|