Текст книги "Never Say Never"

Автор книги: Emily Goodwin

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

But I don’t.

“I’ll be okay,” I tell her. “This foal will be a lot of work. It’s the perfect distraction.”

Lori smiles before her brow furrows. “Yeah, a newborn is going to be a lot of work. What are you going to do?”

“I have today and tomorrow, then I’ll call in sick Monday if I have to. So that’s three days to try to get her to drink from a bucket or a hanging bottle. If I need to take the day off Tuesday, I will too.”

Lori doesn’t say anything. She sips her coffee, looking concerned. “You have a date with Aiden tonight.”

“I’ll cancel,” I say.

She spits out her coffee. “You can’t cancel on Aiden!”

“The horse is more important to me. Someone has to be with her tonight to make sure she settles in, to make sure she’s not missing her mother, and someone needs to bottle-feed her.”

“Okay,” Lori says after a minute’s consideration. “I’ll stay and watch the baby for a few hours so you can go out. Kit owes me anyway.”

“I can’t make you do that.”

“You’re not making me. I volunteered. And it’s a baby horse. I love baby animals! Just show me how to feed the poor thing, and you and Aiden can go out for a few hours.”

Fuck, she is the best of the best when it comes to friends.

Chapter 8

If I’m not playing a character, I’m drinking. The character doesn’t always have to be a role in a movie. It can be the role of how Aiden Shepherd should be, the role of what’s expected of me. I’m a twenty-four-year-old multimillionaire, after all. I have fame, fortune, and friends who emulate the same. It’s the fucking dream, isn’t it?

It’s not, and it will never be enough. Playing the role of how Aiden Shepherd should be is fucking exhausting, though over the years I’ve gotten good at shutting everything out, keeping the darkness that lives inside me at bay, keeping it distracted, and keeping me from feeling. Aiden Shepherd never feels numb, he never feels hopeless or lies awake for hours at night, unable to sleep and contemplating if life is even worth living. No, Aiden fucking Shepherd wouldn’t feel those things. He’s got everything, remember?

I reach for the Scotch on the nightstand next to my bed in the hotel. Ice clinks against the glass. It’s pitch black, and I got home from the hospital a few hours ago. My ankle is swollen and a little painful, and it annoys me more than anything. I chug the rest of my drink, taking comfort in the way it burns as it goes down.

The empty glass drops to the floor, ice spilling on the white carpet. I don’t care. I close my eyes and put my arm over my face, thinking of Haley. She looked good in that skimpy little dress. The night was still hot, and her sweater was odd. I saw a flash of a scar the first time we met. Did she get that in the fire?

I asked Claire to find a good place for us to go out to dinner tomorrow. She also arranged a car for me, picked out my clothes, and programmed Haley’s address into the GPS. Which was good, because that meant less shit for me to do in the morning, which really meant I could get plastered tonight and pass out, not waking until after noon. It would give me enough time to sober up, shower, and be good to go.

And that’s exactly what I do. The day passes slowly, and I start to get nervous. I haven’t felt nervous for a date in years, not even when I was with a Sports Illustrated model. I think about it as I drive to Haley’s house, listening to the directions from the GPS. Claire’s on speakerphone almost the entire time and calls back each time I hang up on her. She’s worried I’m going to get lost or drive off a mountainside or something ridiculous like that. Plus, I refused to let the bodyguard come with tonight.

It’s not often I’m alone like this. Even in L.A., being “alone” means having people around you, having your PA, manager, and agent close enough that a taxi ride across the city is all it takes to whisk you away to safety and out of the public eye. Out here in Montana, I feel alone. Completely alone, and I kind of like it.

I know Haley lives in a white two-story house. Like a proper creep, I looked up her address on Google Maps and spent too much time using the street view to peek around. She lives on a country road that wraps around a hillside, leveling out at the top. All I was able to discern from the satellite map was a barn close to the house and a decent length of white fence.

The sun is setting, casting long shadows over the land. I slow as I go around a sharp turn and my foot lets off the gas. Grass-covered hills turn into giant stone mountains that meld into the darkening sky. The world suddenly feels so big, and I feel insignificant and unimportant. The car idles on the road as I look at the land before me. I blink and shake myself. It’s crazy to think something so wild, something so beautiful and untamed, still exists in this world.

Not long after, I arrive at Haley’s house. It’s just like it was on the map, but the grass needs cutting and the flowerbed is full of weeds. A white horse looks out at me over a half door and whinnies. I narrow my eyes, still bitter about the fall yesterday. My ankle is feeling okay, and I ignore the doctor’s advice to stay off it for another few days. If the pain gets to me, I’ll just drink. Yeah, yeah…I know. Booze isn’t the cure-all for everything, but it works for me.

I cut the engine of the Mercedes. Everything about this is so conventional it feels weird, which makes me laugh. An old-fashioned date like this isn’t my norm anymore. I’m off my home turf and feel disadvantaged. Haley made it clear my fame doesn’t sway her opinion of me. I can’t pull the usual cards and impress her and be sure she’ll come home with me, where we’d fuck and I’d pass out, physically satisfied and distracted enough to sleep through the night.

I take a breath and get out of the car. Lights are on inside the house, and I peer through the windows as I walk to the front door, but I’m unable to see anything past the sheer curtains. A wrap-around porch hugs the farmhouse, and the steps creak under my feet as I ascend the stairs. My heart thumps in my throat and I wish for a drink, more pain meds—anything—to take the edge off my anxiety.

A cat meows at me, snaking its way around the legs of a wicker chair. Flowers hang from baskets on the porch, leaves and buds dead and withering from being forgotten. Another cat sits on a white rocking chair. A dog barks from inside the house. I extend my hand to ring the doorbell and suddenly feel like I’m on set again. The farmhouse, the picture-perfect view of distant mountains. People really live like this? I take a breath and hesitate.

It might look like a set, but there’s nothing guiding me. There’s no one to give me a line and cue me along. There’s no redoing an awkward moment or saying a line over and over until it’s perfect.

Fuck real life.

The doorbell rings, reverberating inside the house. The black and white cat comes closer, tail in the air. It meows again and rubs its head on my leg. I’m not really a cat person—hell, I’m not really an animal person. It’s not that I don’t like them, it’s that I don’t have time for them. I hold out my hand, and the cat presses its cheek against my fingers, purring already.

I flick my eyes to the door, wondering if I have time to get a quick selfie in to post to Instagram. A cat and me would get lots of likes, lots of comments from fans, and looking through it would make me feel good. I’ve been advised over and over to post and ignore, but I can’t stay away. I like interacting with fans over social media. I like knowing they like me, that they approve, and they want more. Yeah…I need the validation.

I get so far as getting my phone out of my pocket when I hear someone rush down the stairs inside. I quickly put the phone back and straighten up. Claire dressed me today. I’m wearing jeans and a dark gray t-shirt under a leather jacket. Everything is designer, and I know it cost a ridiculous amount. Sometimes I think about how incredibly stupid it is to charge several hundred for a fucking t-shirt. But this is how I’m supposed to dress, so I do it.

The doorknob rattles and my heart skips a beat, knowing Haley is just inches away. Seconds tick by, and my heart begins to beat faster and faster until she finally opens it. The wooden door swings in with a squeak of the hinges.

“Hi,” I say when I see her. She’s wearing dark jeans, heels, and a flowy top that’s low cut and tight across the chest, and her tits look fantastic. I stare at them for a couple seconds before moving my eyes back to her face. Her hair falls in soft waves around her face, and her makeup is light and subtle. “You look beautiful.”

She smiles and uses her foot to hold back the dog, who’s wagging her tail to greet me. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” she says, bending over to grab the dog’s collar. I get an even better view of her breasts, and it takes all I have not to stare. “Sorry, she loves everyone.”

I bend down to the Border Collie’s level. “Is she friendly?”

“Very.” She gives the dog a few inches. “Settle down, Chrissy,” she says.

“It’s okay.” I hold out my hands and the dog goes crazy. Haley lets go, and the dog bounds forward, jumping into my arms and licking my face. I laugh and pet her for a second before pushing her back and wiping the slobber from my cheeks. “She is friendly.”

“Yeah. Some guard dog.” Haley smiles again and rolls her eyes. It’s the most I’ve seen her smile since we met. Chrissy jerks away and goes after the black and white cat. The cat lashes out and hisses, and then they take off. Haley rushes onto the porch.

“Chrissy!” she yells. “Get back here right now!” The dog disappears around the house and Haley sighs. “She’s so well trained, as you can tell.”

I laugh. “Should we go get her?”

“Nah, she’ll come back.” She’s standing right next to me, close enough for me to smell her perfume. “How’s your ankle?”

“Fine,” I say. “Doesn’t even hurt.”

“That’s good. Uh, want to come in?”

I nod and follow her inside, through the foyer and into the kitchen. Baby bottles clutter the counter. I look at them then at Haley.

“You have a kid?” I look back at the bottles. There must be dozens of them. “Or a lot of kids?”

“No,” she says. “And sorry this is a mess. Today’s been a little hectic.” She picks up a bottle that rolled off the counter and tosses it into the sink. “Where are you taking me tonight?”

“I can’t remember the name,” I confess with a smile. I actually don’t know it. But I know we have reservations two hours from now. “So you’re not going to explain why you have a million bottles?”

Her smile fades and she looks at the sea of plastic and rubber on the counter. “I have a newborn. She’s only taking milk from a bottle right now. When they dropped her off, I was given all these bottles.”

“You are talking about a horse, right?”

She nods. “Yeah. I’m trying to get her to drink out of a bucket. It’s exhausting bottle-feeding a foal.”

“How often do they eat?”

She makes face that lets me know: all the damn time. “My friend Lori, who you met last night, is taking over baby duty while we go out.”

I guess she wasn’t coming back to my hotel then. Dammit. She looks so hot; just thinking about undressing her makes me start to get hard. I blink the thoughts of her naked away. I can’t let my brain wander past that, though the harder I try to not think about it, the more I find myself wondering what she feels like.

“What do you feed a baby horse?” I blurt, needing to stop thinking about laying Haley down and slowly stripping her clothes off. Milk, plonker, that’s what all babies eat.

“A mixture of special formula and cow’s milk. Goat’s milk is better, but it’s super expensive,” she says, then she looks embarrassed to bring up money. What’s expensive to her isn’t to me. I haven’t always had a lot of money. I can still understand, and still feel the stress of not having enough. I remember the twisted knot that formed in my stomach when I had to scramble to pay bills.

“And you feed her a few times a day?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Try a few times an hour.”

“Ouch.”

She shrugs and wraps her arms around herself. “It’s what has to be done. Hopefully she’ll be able to drink from a bucket or I can hang bottles in her stall. And really, I worry about her getting depressed from missing her mom more than anything. Foals like to be snuggled. I’ve been holding her all day, and I’m sure I will tomorrow.” She sighs. “Hopefully she’ll adjust. I can’t miss that many days of work.”

“You take off work to take care of your horses?” I don’t mean to sound judgmental, but I’m surprised by her devotion.

“Someone has to.”

“That’s kind of amazing,” I say, and she blushes. We look at each other, unmoving, for a few seconds. The silence is growing awkward. Why did I come inside? This is weird, just standing here. Where is our scene break? Where are the writers to move this along, to make something happen, and get us out of just fucking standing here?

Something bangs and scratches on the front door, causing me to jump.

“It’s Chrissy,” she tells me, and she walks off to let the dog in. I take the time to look around the kitchen. Besides the various bottles on the counter, it’s clean but cluttered. It feels so homey, so real. I lean against the island counter and cross my arms, grinding my teeth. I start to feel like myself, my real self. I close my eyes and push the darkness away. What the fuck was my problem today? Some days are worse than others, some days I don’t want to get out of bed. Some days I feel so numb I want to hurt myself just to feel. Fuck. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. Not again. I have to be the version of Aiden people expect. I have to believe in him enough I feel it.

Chrissy comes running through the house, wildly greeting me again. I kneel down and pet her, long black fur catching on my fingers.

“So,” Haley says. “Should we go?”

Bloody hell, yes, get me out of here. “Yeah.” Though really, we had a long drive ahead of us. The last time I took a chick on a long drive, she sucked my dick—twice—and I got pulled over for speeding. I got out of the ticket by giving the cop my autograph and taking a picture for his son, who was a huge Shadowland fan.

None of that would work on Haley.

She tosses a treat to Chrissy, grabs her purse, and leads the way out. The barn is close to the house. I can hear country music softly playing inside, and yellow light spills over the half doors. The same white horse that whinnied to me earlier sticks his head out and calls to Haley.

I watch her look at him and see the smile on her face. She slows and relaxes at the sight of him. I don’t get it. There is nothing relaxing about horses at all. They kind of scare me, to be honest. They’re big with a mind of their own. Even something as well trained as Rusty, the horse I ride on set, can spook and dump me.

I open the car door for Haley.

“Thanks,” she says as she slides in. I’m still not used to being on opposite sides, and sometimes find myself drifting into the wrong lane out of habit. Americans are weird. I dash around and get in, firing up the engine and turning down the radio I left blaring. I already have the address in the GPS, ready to give me directions. I back up and turn around in the long, L-shaped driveway.

“What happened to the baby’s mum?” I ask then immediately regret my words. Haley stiffens and closes her eyes. She doesn’t know I know about the fire, and there isn’t a good way to bring it up. I can’t turn to her and say, “Hey, I Googled you and read about the accident.”

“Nothing bad,” she says quietly. “She’s a nurse mane foal. The mom was bred for the milk, not for the baby.”

I turn my head in question. “I’m not following.”

“The milk is given to a show horse, and the baby is literally thrown away. This little girl was pulled out of the manure pile”

My mouth gapes a little. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately. It’s not that uncommon either.”

My heart feels cold. “I had no idea.”

“Most people don’t. But it’s usually easy to find a home for the foal once their story gets out. As long as we get to them in time, they don’t have physical issues like a lot of our rescues do.”

“Is it hard to place horses with physical issues?”

She nods. “Sometimes it means they can’t be ridden at all, or are only suitable for light riding. And the upkeep for a special needs horse is expensive. And people don’t want something damaged.”

Damaged.

No, people don’t want something damaged. I know first hand. There is sadness in her voice, but her face is set, showing no emotion. I drum my fingers on the wheel. The air between us is getting awkward—again. I feel compelled to say something.

“So, you’re a fan of Shadowland?”

She nods but gives me a sideways glance. “Yeah. I really like the show. I’d have friends over every Sunday while I was in college. We’d take shots every time someone died. Usually, we were drunk halfway through the episode.”

I feel like the actor everyone thinks I am. “Did you ever think you’d be going out with someone from the cast of the show? I bet your friends would shit themselves if they found out.”

She raises her eyebrows and looks out the window. “Uh, yeah. This isn’t how I thought my life would go.”

I speed around a turn and consider driving off the hillside. Anything to end this awkward conversation. A few miles pass in silence. Then she turns to me.

“Do you really want to go to some fancy restaurant and deal with all those people?”

“I don’t mind,” I tell her. “I like taking pictures with people and signing shit.”

“Really?” she asks and twists.

“Really,” I say. “It’s nice to know people like me and what I’m doing. I would be nothing without the fans.”

“Is that what you say in every interview?” she asks flatly.

I find myself smiling. I take my eyes off the road and look at her. “You really want to know? It can get annoying. Not having people tell me they’re fans or they love the show, because I really do like hearing that. And anyone who says they don’t is a damn liar. It’d be like you saying you didn’t want to hear people say they think you’re pretty or smart. Yeah, maybe you think it sounds vain, but we’re fucking humans. We like that kind of flattery.”

I glance at her again. She’s leaning back, head tipped just a bit as she looks at me. “What annoys me is having to smile and act happy when I just want to leave the gym and shower. Sometimes I just want to get my shit done and go home.”

She smiles. “What do you want to do right now?”

“Eat,” I say and smile back. “I’m hungry.”

“We could go somewhere else.”

“We can go anywhere you want, but it doesn’t really stop the problem.”

Her smile widens. “The place I have in mind can avoid that. Most of the people there don’t have TV, let alone prime channels.”

I don’t have to think about it. My eyes meet hers. “Yes, I’d like that.” I have a moment of panic. I’m pushing myself further away from my comfort zone, further away from the façade I desperately cling to. But I’m with Haley, and for some reason, she makes everything all right.

Chapter 9

I pick up the glass of lemonade and take a sip, looking at Aiden through the dim light. He’s checked his phone five times since we sat down in this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant. It’s forty-five minutes from my house in the opposite direction of Billings. I almost feel guilty when we sit down. Almost. Aiden’s cockiness turns me off enough to not really care, though. This place is a dump. I can’t be sure it’s up to code, and if the health department somehow finds it out here in the backwoods, my guess is they’d shut it down.

Mom and I came here from time to time. It was the halfway point between her barn and another rescue. We’d met here before with horses. Mom took the more serious ones, the ones that other rescue wasn’t equipped to handle. How Mom did it all on her own was beyond me. She had a gentleness to her, and the horses could sense it. Just being around her calmed them, and they knew they were in good hands.

I order my food, knowing there is something seriously wrong with me. Who turns down the chance to go to a fancy restaurant with someone famous? Other than worrying about how I’d look when the paparazzi snapped my picture, I should have eaten it up, right? Pretty much every female on the planet would give their left ovary to be wined and dined by Aiden Shepherd.

But not me, because there is something wrong with me. I don’t want to smile and be told I’m so lucky I got to go out with Aiden. I don’t want girls to look at me with envy.  I don’t even want any of my old friends from high school to whisper and wonder if Aiden and I are sleeping together. I don’t want any of that. I don’t want to feel special.

Because I’m not special.

“If I get food poisoning,” Aiden says. “I’m blaming you.”

His voice—oh god, that accent—warms me. “We ordered the same thing, so we’d both get it. And fine. Blame me.” I smile. “I’ve been here a few times before and never got food poisoning, if that makes you feel any better.”

He makes a face. “It kind of does.” I twist my straw wrapper between my fingers. We are sitting in the back, and only a few other tables are occupied. “Have you lived here your whole life?”

“Yeah. I like it,” I say, because I know that’s his next question. Not everyone understands the appeal.

“It’s definitely different from what I’m used to. Living in London and then L.A. and then coming here. It’s almost like culture shock all over again.” He inhales. “It’s weird how it’s so big, how spaced apart things are, yet everything has a sense of community. I feel like an outsider, to be honest.”

His remark strikes me. I didn’t think he was capable of feeling like anything but the shining star. Maybe he does pay attention to things around him and he’s not the center of his own world all the time.

“I can see that. It’s a different world, that’s for sure.”

“It’s probably good for you, though, with the horses I mean. There’s lot of room.”

“Yeah, there is, but it doesn’t matter if you don’t own it.” Mom was saving to buy a ten-acre lot across the street from our property. It had an aging pole barn that with a little work could house eight more stalls and was within walking distance from our house. It would allow her to take in more horses. Thinking of Mom, the pole barn, and being here, in this crappy restaurant without her, sends a spike into my chest. I’m hit with dizziness and suddenly I can’t breathe. Smoke swirls around me and crackling flames rise up on the walls.

Aiden’s face fades from my sight. He says something, but the words are lost under the terrified cries of dying horses. I need to get out of here. I need to find Mom and save her—like I didn’t before. I saved myself and I saved Phoenix, but I didn’t save Mom.

“Haley?” Aiden asks. I can’t see him, can hardly hear him. “Are you all right?”

My hands start to shake and my eyes fill with tears from the smoke. I’m choking and I can’t move. The heat hurts and I realize I’m on fire.

“Haley!” A hand lands on mine and I jolt forward. The flames retreat. I blink a few times and look at Aiden. I’m disoriented; my ears ring, and I’m swaying in my seat. Aiden gets up, dark eyes full of fear. He slides into the booth next to me, one hand resting on my waist, right on top of a patch of scar tissue that still feels like it’s on fire. I jump back, wincing in pain.

“Sorry,” he says and takes his hand off me. “I won’t touch you.”

“No,” I pant and close my eyes. This was a mistake. “You can.” I take another breath, lungs feelings like they are filled with smoke. Trembling, I reach for him, my hand sliding on top of his. “Just not there.” I put his hand on my hip.

“Uh, okay,” he says and moves closer. “Haley, are you…no, you’re not okay. What’s going on?”

He pushes my hair out of my face. I shake my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Aiden. I just can’t. I told you that you wouldn’t want to go out with me, that you’d regret it.” He’s blocking me in the booth. I twist and stand. “I…I need some air.” He stands, stricken, and lets me pass. I hurry through the restaurant, almost running into a waitress on my way out. I don’t stop until gravel crunches under my feet. I double over, gasping for breath.

You will not cry, you will not cry. My hands cover my face, and my entire body trembles. My scars hurt so bad, but the physical pain is nothing compared to what I’m feeling inside.

I saved a horse over my own mother. I took Phoenix outside instead of grabbing Mom’s arm and pulling her out with me. I assumed she was behind us. I assumed she was safe. My assumptions cost her life. I move my hands to my mouth, keeping the sob inside of me. I rock back, and tears roll down my cheeks.

“Haley?” Aiden says softly. “Are you okay? You’re, uh, freaking me out.”

Great, just fucking great. On top of everything, I’m not only ruining Aiden’s night, but I’m freaking him out. I push my shoulders back and shake my head, unable to speak without crying. He keeps walking until he’s by my side. I can feel his eyes on me, but his stare isn’t judgmental. He’s concerned. Slowly, he slips his hand into mine and leads me to the grass next to the parking lot. We sit, and I’m doing everything I can not to break down.

“I got our food to go,” he says as he picks a strand of grass, twisting it around his finger. “I’ll go in and get it. I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to eat or not, but I assumed you didn’t want to go back.”

I nod and steal a quick glance at him. He’s got my purse too. A few minutes pass and he’s still there, still next to me. Finally, I control myself enough to speak.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “You can go if you want. I’ll find a way home, don’t worry.”

He looks at me like I’m as crazy as I feel. “I’m not going to leave you when something is going on. I know what it’s—I can tell you’re really upset.”

I pull my lips around my teeth. The panic and guilt start to turn into embarrassment. “I am, and I’m kind of mortified.”

“Don’t be,” he says, nudging me softly. “Haley, what’s going on?”

I shake my head and close my eyes, barricading the tears. “I can’t.”

“I know,” he says slowly. “About the fire.”

My eyes fly open and I lean away. “How?” I rasp.

He looks ashamed. “I Googled your name after we met. I, uh, wanted to know more about you.”

He cared enough to search the Internet for me? “Oh.” I shrug. Maybe famous people didn’t realize how normal that was. I’d spent hours Googling pictures of him before.

“Is that what upset you?”

“Kind of,” I start. “Well, yes, it’s that completely, but it’s gotten…” I trail off. I haven’t told anyone about the visions, not even Lori. I press my hands to the ground to try and stop the shaking. What the hell is wrong with me?

He takes off his coat and drapes it around my shoulders. Physically, it’s warm and comforting, but it’s more than just that. I turn to him.

“I’ve been having flashbacks to that night. I see everything all over again, like I’m really there. I feel the fire. I smell the smoke. I can’t breathe.” Tears stream down my face. “I know I’m not really there, but it consumes me. And I haven’t told anyone, because I should be getting better, not worse, and I’m not. Something is wrong with me, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You should never have taken me out.”

His eyebrows push together, and there is so much emotion in his brown eyes. “Haley,” he whispers. “Don’t say that. What happened was awful. I don’t think there is anything wrong with you, either.”

I shoot him an incredulous look. “Look at me! I’m on a date with you, and I’m sitting in the grass, shaking and crying. I should be posting pictures and feeling happy and excited but I’m not! I don’t feel anything!” I push up onto my feet and stare at the mountains in the distance. I’m feeling so disoriented right here and now, and I can’t trust myself to think rationally.

The flashbacks, the extreme embarrassment, the worry about money and how the hell I’m going to afford the formula for the foal…it’s too much. I’ve reached my breaking point, and I just happened to reach it while on a date with one of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelors.

I bite my lip and try to suck back the tears. Aiden is watching me, standing a few feet back. I can’t look at him, can’t see horror and regret in his eyes. I turn and realize the only horror and regret is my own. Aiden is looking at me like he knows exactly how I feel.