Disarranged (3 page)

'Lee and I'. The words hit hard, and close to home, but I suck it up and smile brighter.

"I'm here with Grace for vacation. You know her, right? Lee's sister."

"Of course!" Kiera laughs. "Of course I know her. Model girl. Really gorgeous."

"Ooh, are we talking about me? That's my favorite subject," Grace's voice reverberates. She walks over, her makeup photoshoot-flawless and her jacket still dusted with snow. She takes it off to reveal a slim red dress, and sits beside me. Kiera's eyes narrow.

"We were talking about you!" Kiera's smile looks forced, but her voice is perfectly natural. She's still the best actress I've ever met. "I had no idea you'd be here, Grace, or I'd have invited you to dinner with Lee and I. I should get to know my future sister-in-law, after all."

Grace laughs, but nothing about the sound is pleasant. It's bitter, rough around the edges.

 "I'm sure you're very excited to get to know a sister-in-law who hates you."

Kiera freezes touching a spoon. Grace just smiles wider. Lee is watching us intently, his eyes riveted to me.

"That's right. You heard me. Get out of here, and never speak to me again."

Kiera flinches, glares at me, and then composes herself all in one expert instant.

"Let me know if you change your mind. I think you'll find me better company than that thing."

Kiera sneers in my direction. I almost shrink back, but Grace's courage and the months I spent healing strengthen me. Lee's watching, too. I can't afford to look weak. All thoughts of being nice to Kiera just because he chose her fly out the window as I frown.

"Grace and I are friends," I say. "And we're having dinner together right now. So you need to leave."

Kiera curls her lip and stands. "I had no idea you were capable of growing a backbone."

"I had no idea you were capable of looking so ugly," I fire back.

Grace makes a giggle-snort beside me. Kiera goes red down to her roots, grabs her purse and storms back to Lee's table. She snaps something at him, and marches out of the restaurant. Grace gives me a light victory punch on the shoulder, and I smile. The breath I'd been holding in around Kiera puffs out of me. I feel so much lighter. But then I meet Lee's eyes again, and the weight descends heavier than ever. But his gaze has changed. Where it once was stony it's now warm, the deep, joyous twinkle I remember so fondly lighting his eyes from within even as Kiera fumes at him, snaps something I can't hear to him, and stomps out of the restaurant. There's a tense sort of quiet as Lee and I look at each other. Finally, Grace stands and walks over to his table, pulling him up by the arm and leading him to ours. With every step they get closer, and the sound of my beating heart in my ears gets louder.

Grace sits him next to me, and sits across from us. His body heat sears into my left side, and the spicy-aftershave smell of him wafts up from his collar. He's so close. He's real and close and right next to me after months of nothingness. I clutch my napkin in my fingers and pick at it to distract myself from the ghostly friction flying between us.

The waitress comes up and Grace orders gnocchi.

"And you, miss?" The waitress asks me. I start in my seat and browse the menu quickly, frantically.

"I-I'll have the asparagus alfredo."

"One asparagus alfredo. And you, sir?"  

Lee clears his throat. "I'm fine."

Grace pouts. "C'mon, Lee! You weren't eating anything! I saw you pushing your food around. Now that she's gone you can properly eat. So order!"

"Just the caprese salad will be fine," he says. When the waitress is gone, Grace sits up straighter and smiles.

"So, Lee. You didn't tell me you and your fiancé were coming here."

"I didn't know until yesterday," he says. His voice is lower than I remember, softer.

"Ah, a spur of the moment kind of trip, huh?"

"How's Jen?" He changes the subject.

"Playing some sweet LA gigs. Recording stuff. Hates your guts. Same as ever. Can't say I blame her, though."

Grace's gaze flickers to me, and I rivet my eyes to the ice in my root beer, stirring it with the straw instead of meeting her glance.

"You remember Rose, of course," Grace says. I tense up. Lee keeps staring straight ahead at Grace instead of looking at me.

"It's nice to see you again," he says stiffly.

"You too," I say as enthusiastically as I can. "You - You look well."

"You don't."

Grace raises an eyebrow. I feel like someone's dumped a bucket of ice into my stomach. Lee takes a sip of water, never taking his eyes off the space above Grace's head as he speaks.

"You look thinner. Have you been eating?"

"Y-Yes," I say. Do I really look that underfed?

"There's dark circles under your eyes," He continues. "You've been sleeping alright?"

"You have them too," I counter. "Yours are way bigger than mine."

Grace smothers a laugh behind a warm bread roll. Lee still doesn't look at me, but under the table I can see his fist clench on his thigh.

"It doesn't matter what I have," He insists. "If you aren't sleeping well -"

"You look like a zombie!" I raise my voice. A peal of Grace's laughter escapes from behind the bread. People from other tables turn and stare. Lee's so shocked he tilts his head and looks at me, but I falter under the intensity of his gaze and glance away.

"A-A good-looking zombie," I correct myself. "But you just don't look very happy, I think. You...you should look happier. You're getting married soon. That's supposed to be one of the happiest times in your life, right?"

Grace's giggling drops off suddenly. Lee's other hand forms a fist on his other leg. Somehow it feels like I've said something wrong. Maybe I have. But he doesn't look happy at all, and that's hurting me more than he can ever know.

"I'm sorry," I stammer. "It's none of my business."

Lee opens his mouth, but just then the waitress leans in with our food. Grace digs in, and Lee shoots me a look before taking a small bite of his. My stomach rumbles, and I devour the delicious alfredo quickly. Grace looks up halfway through her gnocchi.

"How long are you two staying here?" She asks. Lee frowns.

"Two weeks, I think."

"That's about how long we're staying," Grace says. "We should do something together, provided you aren't tied down by that bitch."

Lee's eyes get dark at the word. I swallow quickly.

"She's not really - I mean," I try to make up for Grace's lack of tact. "She's mean, but she's important to you. So she's not a bitch. Not to me, anyway."

"She's a bitch to you most of all," Lee murmurs. My eyes widen, and Grace makes a pleased humming noise in her throat. Before I can say anything, Lee puts his fork down and stands.

"I'll pay you back later, Grace. I have to go."

Grace waves it off. "Don't worry about it. See you around."

Lee nods to me, and I return his nod softly. Saying 'goodbye' would feel too formal, and saying 'see you later' would seem too casual. Words between us still feel stiff, a little rusty.

I got to see him.

The thing I'd wanted for months now just happened. He's here, for a few weeks, and so am I. I got what I wanted. I have the perfect chance in front of me - the perfect chance to say goodbye, properly.

And that's all I can ask for.

But if I can help it, I want to see Lee happier. That's Kiera's territory now, not mine, but if I can bring a little of his old smile back to him, that'd be the best goodbye present for him, and for me.

Chapter Two

In Which Rose Jensen Can’t Breathe

***

LEE

***

I slam the hotel door shut and lean against it, cradling my head in my hands. Every fiber in my body screams for me to go back out there, find Rose, and pull her into me. Sitting next to her had done things to my body I'd all but forgotten about - her smell, the way her skin looked under the low candlelight. I'm lucky I got out of there without going insane. The food had helped distract me, Grace's pointed comments had helped fill me with guilt, and that was distracting too. Guilt. More guilt. Rose's hurt expression had given me guilt, too, but it's better that way. The more guilt I feel, the more I can cover the burning flame of desire in the pit of my stomach. It douses it, keeps it cool when I can't possibly control it. I have to use it as a weapon, a shield, or else I'll touch Rose and there will be no stopping me from there.

And I can't do that. I can't touch her at all. If I so much as look at her wrong, Kiera will let loose her hounds of debauched war. Her father's criminal clients would jump at any amount of money Kiera threw at them, and he'd be none the wiser.

If I don't protect Rose by ignoring her, by stamping down the fire that burns for her in my body, Kiera will torture her, emotionally, psychologically, and physically.

"Lee?" Kiera's voice filters in from the room. "There you are!"

She storms up to me, in her pajamas and with minimal makeup. She never really takes her make up off, it just sort of downgrades depending on where she is. In the bedroom she wears a bit. In private she wears hardly any, but she still wears it. It's like her armor, her way of affirming her beauty over everyone else, even when she's alone. It's her vanity at its finest.

"What took you so long?" She snaps. "I told you not to hang around them."

"Grace is my sister, Kiera," I sigh and take my tuxedo overcoat off, throwing it on the bed. "She's family. I'm not just going to drop everything and ignore my family."

Kiera taps her foot and crosses her arms over her chest, thinking for a moment before rolling her eyes.

"Fine. Do what you want. But don't forget - Farlon and I are close. If you tell Grace anything, I'll know."

I unbutton my shirt slowly and scoff. "Tell her what? That you're blackmailing me into marrying you? That I'm being a bastard to the girl I love -"

"Used to!" Kiera shrieks. The volume startles me, and it must startle her, because she looks surprised at herself. Her eyes widen, then narrow, and she lowers her voice.

"The girl you used to love."

"No," I correct, and undo my last button. The cool night air tickles my stomach. "I still love her. No amount of blackmail can change that."

I feel the antagonistic tension in the room thicken. Kiera's moods are almost tangible - even if she is a liar and an actress, she's miserable at hiding how she really feels. It taints the air with sourness and fills up the whole room with an angry cloud.

Nothing about her is attractive to me, anymore. But sometimes, if I look hard enough, I can see the old her - the pretty girl who, even though she was spoiled, never set out to intentionally hurt anyone. She was different then, softer and less tinged with darkness. I don't know what happened to change her. Maybe that darkness was always there, and I was too naive to see it beyond the glitz and glamor that she radiated at all times. Maybe that's how she hides it. But somewhere beneath the cruelty, I still glimpse fragments of the old her, and that hurts me. She's still in there, but she's being unforgivably evil.

Then again, I never properly broke up with her. It was a physical thing, and as far as I knew she was fine with it. And then I was sent to UCLA and met Rose. I told Kiera I was leaving, of course, but I never said I wanted the thing between us to be over, even if it was in the midst of deteriorating. I wasn't brave enough. I didn't give her a clear boundary.

She never got a proper goodbye from me.

She's moved now, sitting on the bed. She hugs her oversized t-shirt around her, and before she sneers, her face is utterly helpless and sad. Pathetic, almost. 

"It's too late," she says. "I'm not sorry, and it's too late. So don't even think about going there."

She takes the right side of the bed, and buries her head under the covers.

"Did something go wrong?" I ask lightly. "Did Grace and Rose say something you didn't like?"

"You heard it," she snarls. "The whole restaurant heard it."

"I didn't hear anything."

"I know you did," she says. "She called me ugly."

I feel my heart skip a little half-beat. Rose? Talking back? She seemed petrified of Kiera at the Christmas party last year. And she hates insulting people who aren't me. I'm almost proud of her. Kiera's usually good about not letting insults get to her, but apparently this one was a little too much for her, even if it is juvenile. She knows she's not ugly, and her confidence is through the roof, so her reaction must be because it was Rose who said it. I have to calm her down before she decides to do something to Rose.

"But you're not ugly. Clearly," I use my best soothing voice. She throws the covers off to glare at me for a long moment, before she snorts and ducks back under.

"You're just trying to protect her."

I motion around the hotel room. "Marrying you. Tolerating you. Putting up with you even after you've ripped my heart. All of that is to protect her, yes."

"Why?" She mumbles. "Why not me? Why didn't you ever feel that way about me?"

Jealousy. It's ripe in her voice, rotting and pungent like an overdue fruit. The tiny bit of softness I had for her in my memory hardens instantly, growing spikes.

"I don't know." My voice is icy, and it makes her flinch. A part of me celebrates that as a small victory. I made the witch flinch. "I don't know, and I'll probably never know."

That night she doesn't try to touch me. She stays on her side of the bed. I'm free to dream about Rose as I have for the last few months, with no manicured fingers reaching into my head to twist it into something sick and poisonous.

For tonight, I've won.

I've won the battle, but I'm losing the war very, very badly.

***

ROSE

***

Grace shakes me awake at nearly noon.

My body was static-charged with the knowledge Lee was close by in the hotel, so even though we went to bed at twelve after a few glasses of wine, I didn't fall asleep until at least three.