The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (73 page)

“Please, it’s not that simple…I…You…We need to talk about what just happened. Please, just come inside.”

“Aby? You’re back.” We look to find Andrew walking towards us. “Is everything okay?” he asks, clearly feeling the tension in the air.

Alex sniffs a laugh, “There you go, perfect timing. Now you can go inside and explain your
hurt
away to your good little friend.” Opening the door once more, he climbs inside.

“Alex, don’t go!” I scream as he revs the engine, pulling away from the curb before driving off.

“ABY…I DON’T even know what to say.”

“Well, that makes me feel better,” I mumble, sarcastically. “Stacey Stevenson at a loss for words. It can’t get any worse than this.”

“Bitchy humor, good for you!” Stacey quips, obviously grasping at straws. “Oh, wait, me speechless and you being funny…Shit. I think this means the world has turned upside down.”

“No,” I sigh, “…just my world.”

“That’s not exactly true, my little ginger snap. I’m pretty sure Alex’s world is pretty fucked right now. Even Julia Cox-sucker’s…that…ugh…I’d call her a whore, but you and I both know nobody would ever pay for that shit.”

I laugh through a lingering ball-your-eyes-out hiccup. “Thanks for trying to make me laugh, Stace.”

“Oh, buttercup, I’d do anything for you. I’d pee on your jellyfish sting.”

This time my laugh is half-hearted, my drained emotional lament reaching the pit of its spiral to twist its way back up again. I’m exhausted. Having cried off and on all night, I was a blubbering mess when Stacey returned my call this morning. It took several attempts of explaining and re-explaining for her to decipher my crazed detailing. Eventually, my emotional eruption simmered out, leaving me to wallow in the numbness of the lingering ashes. But as with any volcano, you never know when the lava will spill over, and I brace myself, feeling it bubbling once more. “She still loves him.”

“Aby, don’t do this to yourself.”

“What if he still loves her? He was going to propose, Stacey,” newly formed tears stream down my cheeks.

“That’s in the past, Abs. It was years ago. Yes, it’s something he has to deal with - a door reopened, but, sweetie, he will close it again. You’re his present. He loves
you
,” she pauses at the chime of my doorbell. “Are you expecting someone?”

“No.” My heart lodges in my throat.
Oh, God
. “What if it’s Alex?”

“Okay, listen to me. Stay calm. Go answer the door. Hear him out. Give him shit for the way he treated you - cause that’s
not
cool, babe - and then hug him. Pull out your tits and flash him a smile, I think he needs it.”

“I-I don’t know what to say to him. What do I say, Stace?”

“Be, honest, and listen honestly. And, babe, try to dial down the defensive diarrhea mouth. Call me as soon as you can, okay? I love you!”

“I love you too, Stace.” Ending the call, I swipe at my tear-stained cheeks, walking to the door, taking a deep breath as I open it.

“Hey,” Andrew smiles bearing coffee, his smile full of concern. “You okay?”

Releasing the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, I take the cup with a forced smile. “I’ve been better. Thanks,” I mutter, still trying to decide if I’m relieved or disappointed to find Andrew instead of Alex.

“What can I do?” he asks, shrugging his shoulders slightly - a testament that he’s well aware there is nothing he can really do, but he’s offering anyway.

“Can you turn back time?” I ask, motioning for him to come on in, turning to make my way back to the sofa.

“I assure you, if I could, I would definitely include that on my business card.” With a wry smile, he sits down beside me. “My shoulders are free, though, if you need one.”

I grin slightly in return, remembering the last time I cried on his shoulder. “I’m not sure I have any tears left to fall. The well is a little dry at this point.”

“Well, I promise I’m not going to ask you to tell me what happened. You kinda made it pretty clear last night that…”

“It’s none of your business,” I repeat the words I suddenly remember lashing towards him, covering my mouth with my hand at the horrible memory. “I’m so sorry,” I manage.

“Don’t be. You were right. It was none of my business. And it still isn’t, but I needed to make sure you were okay.
Are
you okay?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I’m a little numb, actually.”

“I’m sorry,” he flashes a smile of pity.

“Why? It’s not your fault.”

“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.