Текст книги "Dirty Lies"

Автор книги: Emma Hart

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Every second I’m with her she amazes me. Every second I’m without her I crave her.

Right now I should be thinking about how we can believably end this sham of a relationship.

Instead, I’m thinking about everything I can do to make this sham relationship a real one. Because she’s no longer my lie. She’s no longer the girl I can toss aside for nothing.

I said I’d never put a girl I cared about through the shit our fans give, but I have, and I’d do it again every day if it meant I’d get to see her at the end of every day. That makes me so fucking selfish, but God—shit. I can’t help it. I don’t want to let her go any more than I want to see her break down in tears because the people that love Dirty B. hate her.

The sickest thing is that they’re my only two options. Let her go, or see her cry. What a fucking bastard this decision is, especially when neither option is okay. It’s literally shredding me to pieces inside because I know I have to make the choice.

Letting her go just seems impossible, and I really must be a bastard, because I’d rather see her cry, because then I’d get to kiss the tears away. Now, not seeing her, not touching her, not hearing that goddamn laugh . . .

That thought hurts. Not just a sting either. It’s a huge, slicing cut that may as well have me bleeding out.

I yell out as I slam my fist into the bag once more before falling against it and holding it. I breathe heavily, closing my eyes, letting the silence wrap around me.

Fuck.

I’ve fallen in love with my lie.

Jessie

The waves crawl up the sand slowly, touching the very tips of my toes before receding back into the sea. The white foam they leave behind coats my blue toenails, and I dig my toes in the wet sand before the water comes back up.

A dog barks behind me. Children scream and play, and I’m pretty sure there’s someone surfing several yards out. The waves are strong enough for it, I guess. I don’t really know. I don’t know much about surfing.

I don’t know much about anything.

I sigh and sit up, brushing the sand off my hands so I can hug my knees. Isn’t it crazy how one person can burst into your life and alter absolutely everything about it? The thought that one tiny, seemingly insignificant person in the grand scheme of the universe, can shake up your life so you have no idea which way is up.

My poles have switched so much that I think they’ve gotten mixed up with east and west. And as for my own personal axis—well, Aidan Burke successfully tilted that and cemented himself as the center of my world, complete with an irresistible gravitational pull.

And the worst, the absolute worst, thing about this?

It’s supposed to end.

Today. Tomorrow. Next week. I don’t know. I just know that someday, somehow, this will end. Really, does it matter if I tremble whenever he trails his fingers down my back? Or that his smile is almost impossible not to return? Or that I know there are tattoos on his body that I haven’t traced over yet? Or that the idea of all those things being taken away from me makes me feel a little sick?

Fuck, I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman but he makes me feel like a sixteen-year-old girl anticipating her very first kiss. He makes me feel butterflies that flutter until they’re fairy elephants. Everything about him, even when he pisses me off, makes me feel.

I’d rather argue with him every day than not speak to him again.

I sigh heavily, my mind drifting to the flowers he handed me two days ago. I wanted to punch him and make out with him simultaneously, because one look at those flowers and I knew exactly what they meant. He knew that, too.

He knew I knew.

But it’s one thing to send messages like that as an apology. To put so many emotions into one bouquet of flowers.

Another thing entirely to mean it. And when you mean those things, they need to be said, too. The language of flowers is a strong one. My tattoos can attest to that.

But nothing is more powerful than words. Words have the ability to wrap around you and embrace you with their truth and warmth. They can ring out in your mind for years to come, whereas flowers will always die.

Words are timeless.

And I hate myself for it, but I want to hear Aidan say the words out loud. Because then maybe I’ll be convinced of their reality.

For all the lies we’ve told each other, for the lies we’ve portrayed to the rest of the world, a thousand truths have been intermingled. If the lies are black strands woven together to create a path of darkness, the truths we’ve kept inside are stunning silver, blinding sparks of brightness, and everyone is fighting for the moment when the truths all come out.

Let’s face it though—it’s far easier to hurt yourself with a lie than it is to risk someone else hurting you with their truth.

It’s easier for me to keep my truths to myself and walk away from this than it is to open myself to him and risk his unsaid words staying just that—unsaid.

Emotion churns my stomach. I swallow down the regret as it crawls up my throat in the form of bile, but I know I’m right.

It doesn’t matter how much it hurts, or burns, or how badly the thought makes me want to vomit, or how much imagining my life without that contagious smile and playful touch makes me want to cry.

I know I’ll have to walk away from him and the rest of his family, because we’re too different.

Yeah, too different. That’s it. If I tell myself that enough times, I’ll believe it. That’s how that works, right?

Even if it doesn’t, the facts don’t change. I know that in the end I will have to say good-bye to Aidan Burke and this unpredictable magic we’ve created.

So I won’t let it get to the end.

I’ll bring the end to us, no matter how much it hurts.

I braid my hair over my shoulder and secure it with a band. I don’t know if I slept last night. I don’t think I did, and if I did, my sleep was riddled with nightmares that wrenched me awake. Maybe I even woke up crying once. The wet patch on my pillow would attest to that, and it makes me rethink.

Is ending this before it’s too late the right thing to do?

I know the answer is yes. I’ve tried it before, but he’s always rejected it.

What makes you think it’ll be different this time, Jessie?

Yeah, Jessie. What makes you think it’ll be different, huh? What makes you think that now that the media sees him as the country’s newest sweetheart, he won’t turn around and say “see ya!”?

After all, the relationship has done its job: made Aidan Burke the newest nice guy in town, leaving every photographer in the country with their beady eyes on his twin brother to see if he screws up next.

I’m still torn though. Not over the do I or don’t I—I know I have to end this—but over the when. Tomorrow is the opening of the waterpark he told me about, which is exactly why I’m up at five a.m., ready to haul my ass to the airport and hop on a jet down to Miami. I’m expected to be there, but maybe it would be easier if I weren’t.

Maybe it would be easier if I told him now. But then the waterpark’s publicity would be overshadowed by the media fallout caused by our breakup, and that isn’t fair to the owners who’ve worked to open it.

Oh my God.

I knew this was a bad idea. This was the worst bad idea in the history of bad ideas ever, but Jesus, it’s also been the best bad idea.

After all, not all lies are bad.

It’s the truth that’s a fucking bitch.

I zip up my makeup bag and throw it into the overnight bag resting on my bed. My eyes follow its journey across the room to its final destination. I can see a bikini and a hairbrush and shampoo and underwear, as well as the shorts and sandals he insisted I bring.

I want to empty the bag, but I just can’t do it. So I throw my wallet into it, grab my phone, and take a deep breath before heading downstairs silently.

I pause at the bottom of the stairs. A single calla lily is standing in the vase on the shelf beneath the mirror. White, with that lone, perfectly curved petal. I once again take a slow, deep breath, and step down the final stair. I drop my bag and reach out for the flower, stroking my thumb along the gentle sweep of the stark white softness. Leaning in to smell it, I smile when my nose nudges its center and a smidgen of yellow comes off onto me.

Beautiful.

Literally. Calla lilies mean beauty.

For a second time, I stroke the flower, then pick up my bag and unlock the front door. I step out into the chilled morning air, the stars still twinkling in the inky night sky above me. The air is fresh and clean. The salty scent from the sea barely even a mile away is stronger in the darkness, and I pause, just breathing it in, because I can.

Because it’s the scent of home, of comfort and clarity and everything else that makes up what it is to be home. Then—wood, and cinnamon, and thick fir trees. They mix with the salty air, and I turn toward the gate.

“Is it wrong that I want to take a picture of you right now?”

His words rumble through me in a way deeper than I’d care to admit. “Why?”

“You look so peaceful,” Aidan admits. “I’ve been watching you for the last few minutes. You’re just taking in the darkness. And honestly? You’re standing there all beautiful and all I want to do is kiss you.”

His words are the balm to the burn of saying good-bye, and I exhale slowly, meeting his eyes. They’re blazing bright blue, a true beacon in the fading darkness and so impossible to miss. “I can’t say I’d mind,” I admit, “but maybe we need to talk first.”

He unlocks the gate and walks up the path, his eyes intent on me always. His gaze is so powerful that I know it doesn’t matter what he says or what I do, because, holy crap.

Constellations, move over. Y’all got nothin’ on the pull of Aidan Burke’s devastatingly intense gaze.

“No,” he whispers quietly, almost like he knows exactly what I mean by “talk.”

A lump forms in my throat, because I know this should be the end, but my gut is screaming no and my heart is all but reaching out through my chest and latching on to this guy. This guy who’s surprised me from day one with his tender touch and rich laugh. And I so have an obsession with his laugh, but fuck. It’s so incredibly addictive and infectious and happy that I’d have to be Voldemort not to appreciate it for what it is.

And that is perfection.

His laugh is the only fucking perfect thing about him, but that’s okay, because his imperfections are goddamn irresistible, too.

His hand cups my cheek, and my lips part, but he brushes his thumb over them, and closes my mouth. “Don’t care,” he murmurs. “Baby, if we have only twenty-four hours, let me convince you it’s been worth every single second we’ve spent together.”

I turn my face into his palm. “How do– How did you know that’s what I was going to say?”

“It might surprise you, sunshine, but I pay attention to what you do.” His lips curve. “I gave into the fire that is you, Jessie, and sweet fuck, I got burned. I’ll welcome every scar you leave. As long as you know that this relationship has been more than the lie I first promised.”

“I don’t want your scars, Ads,” I whisper. “I don’t want to look in the mirror and see you when I shouldn’t.”

“Then don’t,” he responds simply. “You are you. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. I don’t want you to look in the mirror and see me. I want you to see you. The second you see me is the second you change from the person I know into a stranger.”

“You’re making this hard.”

“Good.” The word ghosts over my lips. “If this conversation is easy, then this really is a lie.”

“I like lies.”

“Me, too, baby. But sometimes lies accidentally become truths.”

“I don’t want the truth,” I whisper. “The truth is scary and blunt and brash. The truth hurts, rocker boy, and I don’t want to hurt.”

“Neither do I, so let’s live our lie until I convince you to accept our truth.”

“You can try.” I swallow. “But lies cut deeper. It’ll always be there. You know that, right? You can do whatever you want, say whatever you want to say, but lies will always scream louder than the truth could ever hope to. You can hook the truth up to Madison Square Garden in the middle of a Linkin Park concert and it’ll still be a fucking whisper.”

His fingers twitch against me. “Sounds like you’ve already given up.”

I don’t answer.

“Get your ass in my truck,” he growls, grabbing my bag and spinning me in its direction. “Twenty-four hours. If I haven’t made you believe in that time, you can go, and I’ll let you.”

“You—you’ll let me?”

“I’m a man not a mouse. I won’t give someone my everythin’ who ain’t willin’ to take it.” He turns back, eyes boring into mine. “You gonna let me?”

Again, I don’t answer.

I can’t.

The intensity in his eyes is too much.

“Your ass. My truck. Now, Jessica.”

I snatch my arm back, annoyance bubbling. “It’s Jessie!”

“I know, but it made you fuckin’ talk. Now move.”

I open my mouth to call him an asshole or an idiot or some variation of, but the knowing smirk on his face, lighting up his eyes, makes me close it again. I seal my lips into a thin line and snatch my bag from him, slinging it over my shoulder.

He takes it straight back, and for a long moment, we stare at each other.

“Fine!” I snap, stomping past him and down to his truck. “But your sweet-ass idiot chat back there hasn’t changed a thing.”

He dumps my bag in the trunk as I buckle in and fold my arms in defiance. Good fucking grief, I’m a toddler dressed up as a fully grown adult.

Aidan climbs into the truck, and with a slam of the door, looks at me, that motherfucking smirk still on his lips. “I know, sunshine.”

That’s all he says as he starts the engine and pulls out onto the quiet road.

Just “I know, sunshine.”

“Bastard!” I scream as we shoot downward at an inexplicable speed. I, thankfully, close my mouth at the very last second. Aidan’s grip on me tightens for a brief second as we smash into the pool at the end of the slide. We separate, and I put all my effort into going upward.

The first thing I hear when I break the surface is his laughter. “I am doing that again!”

“On your own!” I sputter, wiping my hand down my face and breaking into a swim. I find the steps and pull myself out. “Holy shit,” I say to him. “You could have warned me I’d be going down in a Formula One car!”

His laugh simply gets louder, and he sweeps me against him. “But then I wouldn’t have gotten to hear that cute little scream you made.”

“Cute? You wanna sit in front of me? I took the brunt of that whole damn slide!” I shove him away. “I almost died!”

Kye hands me a towel, his laugh just as loud as Aidan’s. “Yes,” he drawls. “Look at all those cuts and bruises you have. Holy shit—did you break your foot?”

I look down instantly, and when I see my foot in one piece, I take the towel and whip it against Kye’s side. “Fuck you!”

Aidan grabs the towel and wraps me in it. “You wanna go again? We go again, and I’ll go in front.”

“Nope,” I refuse. “I’m gonna take Mila on the lazy river.”

“A dragon statue roars.”

“And cold water drips down,” Kye adds.

“Sure you can handle it?” they say together.

I look between them, from blue eyes to blue eyes. “Y’all need to stop that creepy shit before I sign you up for Spielberg’s next horror movie,” I warn, backing away. I wipe my face with the towel and throw it to Aidan balled up. “Me. Mila. Lazy River. Safe,” I stress.

“Wazy liver?” Mila gasps, running over to me from her stroller. “What?”

I smile. “We get rings and float along. I can spin you. And there’s a crocodile that roars!”

“Oh! My want!”

I glance up at Sofie. She shrugs. “Go ahead. I kinda wanna go on this thing . . . with Conner in front of me.”

“Harness yourself to him,” I warn her, taking Mila’s hand.

She waves her hand at me. “I had a baby. I can take a waterslide.”

Snorting, I wave good-bye over my shoulder and lead Mila to the nearest lazy river entry point. She flaps her arms excitedly in her Cinderella swimsuit as the lifeguard hands me a baby tube. Thank God we’re the only people in the park—none of that ridiculously long waiting for the baby tube.

“My!” she yells, reaching for the tube. “My!”

I lift her onto it, and the guard expertly hands me an adult tube while holding Mila steady in her baby one. Unlike hers, there’s no bottom to mine, so I rely on his grip to hold the hoop steady while I jump in and take the handle of Mila’s.

“Ahhh, wazy,” she coos, lying right back.

I laugh, kicking my feet in the cool water so we move a little quicker than the current.

“My lub Uncy Ads,” she says, turning to face me.

“That’s not hard,” I reply honestly.

“He lemme pay drums. Boom boom!” she giggles, slapping her hands against her thighs. “Phooey. Hot.”

“Very,” I agree. “You want shade?”

She nods, and I reach over her with my hand, flapping my fingers so she’s fanned, too. “Silly Jessie,” she giggles. “No shade. Just waves! Whoosh!”

“Silly Jessie!” I laugh and kick off the side when my tube turns away from her.

“Uh oh!” Mila cries. “Jessie! Where you?”

“Here.” I grab the handle of her inner tube again. “See? Hiya!”

“Iyah!” She grins, her cheeks bulging with happiness.

“Raaaarrrrr!”

I lose my grip on Mila’s tube and spin into the side as a body goes barreling past me. I focus on the back of Aidan’s head as it pops up from beneath the water, and he has a tight grip on Mila’s small white ring.

“Aidan!” I yell, rolling onto my side, subsequently upsetting the ring and falling into the river. Water submerges my face as I fight for air and pop up out of the river. “You bastard!”

“Dollar!” Mila shrieks, sitting up with her hand outstretched.

“If she hears you cuss, you owe her a dollar.” Aidan shrugs. “You owe her a dollar.”

“I’ll get you a Popsicle if you forget that,” I bargain, meeting Mila’s eyes.

“Ummmmm,” she thinks. “Wed.”

“Okay,” I agree. “I’ll get you a red Popsicle.”

She grins. “Otay. No dollar.”

I flip Aidan the bird when Mila turns away, seemingly satisfied by my offer. He smirks, breaking into a gentle swim and pushing her away from me. I lift my tube over my head so it becomes a shade and kick my way across the river until I get level with him.

“You’re a pain.”

He looks at me, amusement all over his face. “I know.”

I cut my eyes to him, and although the awkwardness of this morning lingers between us, it feels like not much has changed. Almost as if our conversation hasn’t made a bit of difference. And I guess that’s right. One conversation doesn’t particularly change feelings, right?

Right.

“Vrooooooooooooom!” Aidan yells, running as quickly as he can through the water. He pushes Mila’s ring with him, and despite the fact that my toes are on the ground, I can’t catch him. They disappear from view until I turn the corner and see Mila being lifted out of her ring by Conner and Aidan being handed a double ring.

He jumps in one side, making a huge splash, and pats the other, much higher side. “Come on.”

“I’m good here,” I reply, using the side to spin my ring as necessary.

He sits up, and using the side of the river, moves. With a grin, he tips me up in my tube. I scream as I go over, the awful water filling my mouth. I cough and sputter as I resurface, my eyes burning from the chlorine. Aidan laughs, so I grab the empty side of his ring and tug it.

Hard.

His side slams into the wall, and when I tilt it, he falls backward into the water. He comes up almost immediately, roaring with laughter, and reaches for the ring. He grabs it easily by the handle and holds it steady. “Not so much with the lazy here, huh?”

“You think?” I raise my eyebrow. “Can I get in or are you going to try and drown me again?”

“You can get in, although I’m makin’ no promises on the supposed drowning attempt.”

I roll my eyes and flop on the inner tube on my tummy, then roll over so my butt dips into the hole. Aidan does the same thing, making me bounce up and squeal. When he’s rolled over, he grabs me by the ankle and tugs.

“If you tickle me, I will kick you,” I warn him, moving and hovering my foot just above his cock.

He puts his hand over it. “No tickling.”

I rest my feet on his lap, moving onto my side a little and resting my head on my arm on the ring. Aidan moves his hands so both of them settle on my lower legs, and his lips twitch as he looks at me.

Warmth spreads through me, and I beat it back. No—I don’t want this. I don’t want to want this, because twenty-four hours just isn’t long enough.

“What?” I say quietly.

He shrugs a shoulder. “You.”

“What about me?”

“Everything.”

I open my mouth without saying a word, because, really, how do I respond to that? So I don’t. I close my mouth again and give him a small smile in return, because I guess that’s how I feel, too.

It really is just everything about him.

I drop my eyes to my thighs and pick a small leaf off my right leg. Dropping it over the side, I watch it flutter aimlessly to the water before being swamped by the tiny waves pushing us around the river.

It’s crazy to think about how much our relationship has changed in such a short span of time. We’ve gone from hating each other to desiring to, well, really liking each other.

I say really liking each other isn’t bad.

Although I know in my heart I more than really like him. He’s surprised me at every turn, even when I thought I couldn’t be surprised. Even when I’ve yelled like hell at him and he’s pissed me off by smiling through it, I liked him. A lot. A lot, a lot.

Jesus. I can’t even think the word.

If I think it, it makes it real, and if there’s one thing this relationship has taught me, it’s that reality sucks.

Aidan’s finger trails down my instep, and I jerk my gaze upward. “Stop,” he says softly, holding my foot. “Stop thinking, Jessie.”

“I’m not,” I reply honestly with a lame smile. “I’m wishing.”

“About what?”

“If I tell you, it won’t come true.”

“That only counts for birthday cakes.” His lips curve up. “And shooting stars. Because everyone knows that wishing on those is just something made up for kids so they can have a little magic.”

“It doesn’t matter what you wish on. Wishes are nothing but magic anyway, and since I’m still waiting for my Hogwarts letter, I know magic isn’t real.”

“I really wanted a Hogwarts letter.”

“Me, too.” I smile.

His chest heaves as he takes a deep breath. “Maybe that kind of magic isn’t real, but some kinds are.”

“Like what?”

“Like . . . when Mila laughs. That’s pretty magical, you know? And music. And sitting on the beach watching the sun go down.”

I look down again.

“And you.”

I laugh, but my heart isn’t in it. No, my heart is currently stuck in limbo between skipping a beat or breaking.

It goes with breaking.

We’re back at the point where I got onto the river with Mila, and as my throat closes up with emotion, I swing my legs from his lap. I jump off the ring and avoid Aidan’s outstretched arm trying to catch me.

“Jessie.”

I shake my head and go up the steps. I can see our things on the lounge chairs by the kids’ pool, where Mila is toddling around trying to catch the jets of water spraying up from the ground. She’s laughing, and Aidan was right, it is magical. So is music and the sunset, but me?

No.

“Jessie!” I wrap my towel around my body and grab my bag as Conner, Sofie, and Kye look over at me. I turn around, clasping my towel closed at my chest, and smack straight into Aidan.

He grabs my arms. “Where are you going?”

“I can’t do this,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut so the tears don’t escape. Moving, I shrug his grip off and take a step back. I swallow and look up at him as my chest clenches tightly. “That was my wish. I was wishing that everything could be different.”

“What if it could be?”

“But it can’t,” I remind him through the lump in my throat. “Like . . . does it matter what you say? I’m just a marketing tool, remember? Just something to put you in the papers.”

Guilt flits across his face, pain flickering in his eyes. God, I’m such a bitch, but reminding myself of that makes it better.

“Don’t,” he says, coming toward me. “You know that wasn’t me. You know I had no choice but to agree to that.”

“No, you do. You always have a choice, Aidan. I had a choice, and I made the wrong one. I have a choice right now, and I’m choosing to say that this is enough before you say something that might actually make me believe you.” I blink harshly but it isn’t enough, because I feel the tears finally push through and fill my eyes. I turn and walk away, my eyes burning, and he’s calling my name, but I ignore him.

He’s following me. I can hear his voice but not what he’s saying. My eyes sting and my ears buzz and I think my heart is breaking into a thousand tiny little pieces and pushing the pain through my veins.

“No.” The word cuts through me as I’m grabbed by his hot hands. They slide up my arms to cup my face. “No.” His voice cracks a tiny bit as he wipes at my tears. “Look at me, Jessie,” he demands.

I shake my head, looking to the side. God, why won’t the tears stop falling?

“Me.” His words are a demand. “Me, Jessie. Look at me!”

“Stop,” I beg him, desperate to look anywhere but at him.

“You don’t want this,” he says, moving into my sight. When I look away, he moves again. And again, and again, and again.

“Stop!” I cry, forcing his hands away from my face. I grasp my towel just before it falls and step back. “Please, Aidan. Just stop. Now.”

“Never,” he replies, his voice hoarse. “I won’t stop until you listen to me. I won’t stop until you do. ’Cause you were right. You always have a choice. I made the wrong choice when I agreed with my manager on this, but I didn’t make the wrong choice when it came to you, all right? You’re one of the best fucking choices I’ve ever made. You have your choice, and if it’s still to leave right now, then you can do that, but I have the choice to fight for you. And, Jessie? I will. I’ll fight until the only choice you have left is me. I will fight for the rest of my fucking life, until you see that the choice you’re making by leaving right now is the wrong one.”

I take a shuddery breath.

“You promised twenty-four hours, baby. Twenty-four hours for me to prove to you that this whole thing was worth it, and I think I just did it in two seconds.” One step closer. And another. And another. “Just . . . fuck. Don’t leave me, Jessie. Not like this, not right now.”

“I promised, but I’m a liar,” I whisper.

“So am I. But here’s the thing—of all the lies I’ve told, you’re my favorite one.” He takes my face in his hands again. “I’m a selfish fucking liar, but I care about you. Even though you think I don’t, I do. I care about you so fucking much that I’d rather keep you by my side and put you in the way of being hurt than let you walk away and be safe.”