chickadee
New Yorker
And so the tale rolls on... Thanks again for all comments regarding this fic, and thank you to everyone else who reads it!
As always, the boys aren't mine, fo' sho'.
Love Rescue Me
Chapter 4
Cara was pleased to see it took Adam a few moments to answer. She was less pleased with the fact some girl was draped over him as if she owned him, but she knew she couldn’t act as if she was bothered. After all, he wasn’t hers any more.
“Cara, God, I mean, what are you doing here?” Adam seemed to have forgotten he had a woman beside him, clamouring for his attention; he was staring at Cara as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Nice to see you, too,” Cara murmured. She was staring back, unable to believe she’d done it and was actually there, speaking to Adam. It wasn’t long ago she’d vowed she’d never see him again. “Look, I was hoping we could have a drink or something. I don’t know.”
The invitation appeared to bring Adam back to reality, and he pulled the woman closer to him, if that was possible.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said steadily, not looking at her now. “I have a show tomorrow, and, well…”
Cara nodded. She’d expected that. “Of course. But something tells me you’re not going back to the hotel to play cards and fall asleep, so there won’t be any harm in me coming with you for a bit.”
Now the woman – who was incredibly skinny, Cara noted with distaste – was shooting her filthy looks, realising that her rock star experience was under threat. Cara didn’t let that faze her. She held it out, waited until she saw the resistance in Adam’s body ease a little, and she knew he’d given in.
“Okay,” he said, defeated. “Sorry,” he added to the skinny woman, who narrowed her eyes at him before stalking away, leaving Adam and Cara alone in the corridor. “There’s a car waiting.”
Cara followed Adam out to the back of the arena. She looked around as she walked, trying to calm her nerves, and caught sight of Beth coming out of a room off to the side. Beth saw her, clocked Adam and gave her a big smile. With no time to stop and explain, Cara simply returned the smile and mouthed ‘thank you’ before quickening her step to catch up with Adam, who was already outside. She briefly wondered what Beth had been doing, but then she was sliding into the back seat, cool leather against her legs, Adam beside her, smoking his cigarette, and all unnecessary thought dissipated into thin air.
*
Jen stood at the bar, waiting to be served. For some reason the place was packed and everyone was demanding drinks, so she sighed and resigned herself to a long wait. She wasn’t one to push in front of people, but sometimes she wished she was.
After she’d got back from the arena, Jen had changed into her favourite jeans and a pink, tight-fitting t-shirt. She’d let her hair down and now it skimmed the waistband of her jeans. She supposed having long, blonde hair made her some sort of stereotype, and maybe that was why the barmen kept ignoring her, despite the fact she was front of the queue. She waved a five dollar bill at one of the men, to no avail.
She was about to give up and go to bed when Larry squeezed in beside her. “What do you want? I’ll get it,” he offered, and within seconds he’d been served. Jen accepted her vodka and coke with thanks, and then they made their way out of the scrimmage and towards one of the tables, around which sat various crew members from the U2 show. Larry conjured up two chairs and placed them on the outskirts of the group, sitting in one while Jen sat in the other. She felt a little nervous with Larry, as he’d been moody earlier and he wasn’t exactly smiling now, but it was better than sitting on her own.
“I enjoyed your show,” she said, after a few minutes of silence. “I watched from the side. I’d never seen your band play live, before.”
“Thanks.” Larry glanced at her. “How’s the job?”
Jen shrugged. “It’s okay. I mean, I appreciate being given it. It’s just been a bit sudden. Two days ago I was working in a shop and now I’m in Boston. It’s weird.” She blushed, realising she was talking too much, but Larry didn’t seem to mind. “Um, are you okay?” she asked, when curiosity got the better of her. “You look a bit… pissed off.”
“I’m fine.” Larry had more of his beer, and then said, “I’m sick of people being stupid. And knowing they’re being stupid. And me having to pick up the pieces.”
Jen nodded, doing her best to look as if she understood. Before she could open her mouth, however, Larry was standing and finding another chair, which he placed on Jen’s other side. Edge sat in it, his hair pulled back and his hat on, smiling at Jen. He smelled lovely, just out of the shower, and his eyes were searching hers.
“Hey,” he said, to Jen more than to Larry. “Can I get you… oh, you have one already.”
Jen grinned and raised her glass. “Larry saved me from killing someone to get a drink.”
“I see. Well, in that case, I’ll get one for myself.” Edge went off to the bar, and when he came back he asked Larry if Bono was around.
“I don’t know,” Larry snapped. “Maybe if he’s finished hanging around with fuckin’ reporters.”
Edge exchanged a confused look with Jen. “What are you talking about?”
Larry heaved a huge, deliberate sigh, as if everyone was stupid except him. “Bono. In his dressing room. With that woman from the paper. Sometimes I think he enjoys looking like a twat.”
Jen frowned. “Is that the person who wrote about you in the Gazette? Because I read that piece and it was brilliant.” The responding glare she received from Larry was almost enough to send her running, but Edge was leaning over her and she could smell the shampoo he’d used, and she didn’t want to go anywhere.
“He said he’d sort it out, and that’s what he’s doing,” Edge was saying to Larry. “We have to trust him. If he left it to you, the girl would be in jail by now.”
“Yeah, and not a moment too soon,” Larry retorted, finishing his drink and heading back to the bar. Edge gave Jen an apologetic smile.
“He’s not normally like this,” he explained, sitting upright in his seat. “He hates when his privacy is invaded, that’s all. Bono sometimes doesn’t take him seriously.”
“I can understand the privacy thing,” Jen said. “It must be hard, keeping your personal life separate when you’re in the public eye all the time. I mean, if I was in a band, and that’s a fantasy because I have the worst voice ever and I can’t play any instruments to save my life, but if I was in a band I think I’d go a bit crazy, because you can’t be mean to your fans but also how can you tell people to leave you alone when you’re out with someone, like on a date, I bet that’s hard, and you’re sitting there and everyone’s watching you…” She suddenly realised she was rambling on again, and coloured. “Sorry,” she muttered, sipping her drink.
Edge was watching her with amusement. “No need to apologise,” he said softly. “I was listening.”
Jen was again taken by his gorgeous eyes, and thought if given the chance, she could easily get lost in them for hours.
Larry chose that moment to come back with another pint; he took one look at Edge and Jen, and let out another derisive noise.
“Stupid,” he muttered, shooting Edge a glare.
*
Beth felt as if a million butterflies had taken residence in her stomach by the time the lean black car pulled up outside the hotel. She’d pinched herself a couple of times to make sure this wasn’t one of her bizarre dreams. She really was in a limo, sitting beside Bono, on her way to meet the rest of the band, after which she was going to quit her job at the paper and go on tour with U2.
Bizarre, definitely. But it wasn’t a dream.
It had been Bono’s suggestion that they start the ball rolling that night, while the idea was fresh in their minds. Beth guessed that he was worried about the others’ reactions; she doubted they were as approving of her article as he had been. And she knew if she was going to make a success of her book, she needed to be able to interview all four band members, not just Bono. That, she decided, was going to be the tricky part, especially when it came to Larry. He wasn’t one to accept what had happened without question. Beth, though, was determined to change his mind, whatever it took. Her career was worth more than some rock star’s ego.
The car door was opened for her, and Beth stepped out, staring at the hotel. The lights were on in the bar and through the window she could clearly see people milling about, talking and laughing and having a good time. Suddenly she felt completely out of her depth. What was she doing, going into this world she really knew nothing about? Wouldn’t she be making a fool of herself? Was that was Bono wanted? To pay her back for her deceit?
Bono came up beside her, then, and offered her his arm. When she didn’t take it, he frowned. “Are you okay?”
Beth didn’t know, and told him so. “I don’t know if this is a good idea. I mean, we barely know each other. Me, and you guys…” She shrugged, words deserting her.
“Well, why don’t you see how you feel after you’ve spent some time with everyone?” Bono offered, holding his arm out again. “If you don’t feel comfortable after tonight, you don’t have to do it. There’s no pressure, Beth. I just think you deserve an opportunity beyond a small-town newspaper.”
For better or worse, Beth believed what he was saying. This time, she accepted his arm and they walked into the hotel together. She was still incredibly nervous, and the fact many people stared at her when she arrived arm-in-arm with Bono didn’t help matters. Willing her legs not to shake, she allowed Bono to guide her to where Edge – oh my God, it’s The Edge! – was sitting with a gorgeous blonde girl… and Larry.
Uh-oh.
It was too much to hope he wouldn’t notice her. He was practically the first person to, and his eyes widened with recognition. Instinct told her to hide behind Bono or run away, one of the two, but she knew that wouldn’t solve the problem. She drew herself up and tried to feel taller in the face of Larry’s obvious anger as he approached them.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” he hissed at Bono. “You said you were going to sort it out. That didn’t include bringing her to our hotel!”
Bono pulled Beth’s arm tighter, and she was grateful for it.
“I did sort it out,” Bono replied, smiling. “Beth is going to work for us. Now she won’t be able to go behind our backs. Now, we’ll be able to keep an eye on her.” He gave Beth a wink that suggested he would quite enjoy doing that, or maybe that was my hopeful imagination, and she felt her cheeks burn.
Larry growled. Or at least it sounded like he did. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.”
Bono sighed heavily. “Oh, Larry, come on. Don’t be so cruel. She didn’t mean any harm, did she? She didn’t describe you as a bad-tempered old grump, did she? I think that was kind of her, considering that’s how you’re acting.”
“I want her gone,” Larry continued, paying no heed to Bono’s gentle admonishment. “I don’t want to work where she’s going to be sneaking around, poking her nose in.” He looked so disgusted that Beth actually started to feel insulted. Larry didn’t know the first thing about her, and here he was assuming he did. She let go of Bono’s arm and looked directly at Larry.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said, keeping her voice steady, “but I’m afraid it’s not your choice to make. Bono has offered me a job, and I’ve accepted. You’ll have to get used to me sneaking around.”
Larry stared at her for a few seconds, then at Bono, before shaking his head and going to the bar, probably for a stiff drink. Beth certainly needed one, but Bono was busy taking her over to meet people.
“Edge, c’mere, this is Beth. Beth, The Edge. Beth’s going to write that book we discussed, remember?”
Edge nodded, offering Beth a smile and a hand, showing no outward sign of hating her. “It’s nice to meet you, Beth,” he said. “Bono has been going on about this book for months. The discussion on my part involved listening to him and agreeing a lot.”
Beth laughed. “Sounds like the best way.” She was relieved Edge didn’t seem to share Larry’s tinted view of her.
“And this,” Bono was moving past Edge and pulling the pretty girl to her feet, “is Jen. She just started working for us as our much-needed stylist.”
“Hi,” Jen said, with a big smile that made Beth warm to her immediately and ward off the jealousy that had threatened when she took in Jen’s blue eyes, tousled blonde hair and attractive figure. “I’m the wardrobe girl! It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it, right?”
Edge was laughing. “Right, and rather you than me. Anyone want a drink? I’m getting another.”
Beth and Bono both wanted drinks, so Edge went off to get them while they both found chairs and sat down. Beth became engaged in conversation with Bono and Jen, and realised this wasn’t so scary after all. In fact, if she played it right, she might find going on tour to be lots of fun.
*
Cara leaned her forehead against the cool glass and stared out of the window at the city scene below. Boston was certainly going to take some getting used to, but she knew she could handle it. Somewhere out there was a job she was going to take and a house she was destined to move into.
She heard the bathroom door close and turned to face the man she once thought belonged to her, too.
“When did you get here?” Adam asked, after a few moments’ pause during which he lit another cigarette. Now he was pouring them both a drink, not looking at her.
“Yesterday.” Cara turned back to the night sky. “I moved here, y’know. Fresh start.” She gave a short, humourless laugh. “That didn’t work out so well.”
Adam crossed the floor and handed her the glass of whiskey. “You just happened to be here?”
She shot a glare at him. “Yes. I didn’t come because you] were here, if that’s what you’re thinking. I had no idea. I’d completely forgotten.” She took a drink, wincing at the strength of it. “I wish I had remembered.”
Adam rested his bottom against the window sill, so he was facing Cara, his back to the twinkling city lights. He placed his glass beside hers and removed his spectacles, taking a long time to clean the lenses. “But you didn’t have to attend the show tonight.”
“No.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose before putting the specs back on. “Then why did you?”
She shrugged, not sure of the reason herself. “I don’t… I’m not…” Then she sighed and decided to be as honest as she could. “I wanted to see you.”
Adam took a long time to pick his tumbler up, drink, swallow, place it back down. Cara wondered if he could hear the way her heart was thundering against her rib cage; it sounded so loud in her ears.
“Forgive me,” he began eventually, “but I was under the impression you never wanted to see me again. Isn’t that what you said the last time we saw one another?”
Cara turned her head to see him looking at her, properly, his eyes meeting hers across the inches that separated them, although it might as well have been miles. She felt an irritable rage bubble inside her at him, at his calmness, at the way he was pretending he barely even knew her.
“Of course I said it! You cheated on me!”
“You cheated on me.” Adam pushed himself off the sill and faced her, his expression mild. Cara marvelled at his ability to keep cool when she was on the verge of losing hers altogether.
“That’s not the point!” she shouted, stepping back. It was time to leave, she realised, but for some reason her feet wouldn’t let her. “You can’t blame me for what I did! You were never around, you just gave up. I only did it once!”
Adam drank what remained of his whiskey, but didn’t take his eyes off her. “Once was enough, Cara. For both of us. You hurt me as much as I hurt you, I imagine.”
A lump formed in Cara’s throat; she willed it away, hoping she didn’t start to cry in front of him. She couldn’t break down because then she’d risk telling him what he didn’t know, and risking whatever chance they might have in the future. I can’t believe I’m thinking about the future. We haven’t even dealt with the past.
But this was Adam. How could she have believed it would be easy to walk away and forget about him? She’d been so young and foolish when they met, and she hadn’t understood what he wanted. She hadn’t understood anything. They’d messed each other around, and their relationship had been doomed from the start.
That echo of doom resounded in Cara’s mind as she watched Adam move towards the table to pour himself more alcohol. I can’t help it. There’s so much I feel for him. I wish…
“I wish we hadn’t,” she said, her voice smaller than usual as she looked at the floor and tried not to let her tears fall. “I wish we could change what happened.”
Adam was beside her, his hand on her shoulder. “Cara,” he said gently, “we can’t go back.”
Cara lifted her head and was struck by how handsome he was, how he still made her feel giddy when he stood so close. “Are you sure?”
When Adam’s lips met hers, it was even better than she remembered. He tasted of tobacco and spirits and hope, and as he pulled her close, running his hands through her hair, she wondered if they could go back, after all.
to be continued...
As always, the boys aren't mine, fo' sho'.
Love Rescue Me
Chapter 4
Cara was pleased to see it took Adam a few moments to answer. She was less pleased with the fact some girl was draped over him as if she owned him, but she knew she couldn’t act as if she was bothered. After all, he wasn’t hers any more.
“Cara, God, I mean, what are you doing here?” Adam seemed to have forgotten he had a woman beside him, clamouring for his attention; he was staring at Cara as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Nice to see you, too,” Cara murmured. She was staring back, unable to believe she’d done it and was actually there, speaking to Adam. It wasn’t long ago she’d vowed she’d never see him again. “Look, I was hoping we could have a drink or something. I don’t know.”
The invitation appeared to bring Adam back to reality, and he pulled the woman closer to him, if that was possible.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said steadily, not looking at her now. “I have a show tomorrow, and, well…”
Cara nodded. She’d expected that. “Of course. But something tells me you’re not going back to the hotel to play cards and fall asleep, so there won’t be any harm in me coming with you for a bit.”
Now the woman – who was incredibly skinny, Cara noted with distaste – was shooting her filthy looks, realising that her rock star experience was under threat. Cara didn’t let that faze her. She held it out, waited until she saw the resistance in Adam’s body ease a little, and she knew he’d given in.
“Okay,” he said, defeated. “Sorry,” he added to the skinny woman, who narrowed her eyes at him before stalking away, leaving Adam and Cara alone in the corridor. “There’s a car waiting.”
Cara followed Adam out to the back of the arena. She looked around as she walked, trying to calm her nerves, and caught sight of Beth coming out of a room off to the side. Beth saw her, clocked Adam and gave her a big smile. With no time to stop and explain, Cara simply returned the smile and mouthed ‘thank you’ before quickening her step to catch up with Adam, who was already outside. She briefly wondered what Beth had been doing, but then she was sliding into the back seat, cool leather against her legs, Adam beside her, smoking his cigarette, and all unnecessary thought dissipated into thin air.
*
Jen stood at the bar, waiting to be served. For some reason the place was packed and everyone was demanding drinks, so she sighed and resigned herself to a long wait. She wasn’t one to push in front of people, but sometimes she wished she was.
After she’d got back from the arena, Jen had changed into her favourite jeans and a pink, tight-fitting t-shirt. She’d let her hair down and now it skimmed the waistband of her jeans. She supposed having long, blonde hair made her some sort of stereotype, and maybe that was why the barmen kept ignoring her, despite the fact she was front of the queue. She waved a five dollar bill at one of the men, to no avail.
She was about to give up and go to bed when Larry squeezed in beside her. “What do you want? I’ll get it,” he offered, and within seconds he’d been served. Jen accepted her vodka and coke with thanks, and then they made their way out of the scrimmage and towards one of the tables, around which sat various crew members from the U2 show. Larry conjured up two chairs and placed them on the outskirts of the group, sitting in one while Jen sat in the other. She felt a little nervous with Larry, as he’d been moody earlier and he wasn’t exactly smiling now, but it was better than sitting on her own.
“I enjoyed your show,” she said, after a few minutes of silence. “I watched from the side. I’d never seen your band play live, before.”
“Thanks.” Larry glanced at her. “How’s the job?”
Jen shrugged. “It’s okay. I mean, I appreciate being given it. It’s just been a bit sudden. Two days ago I was working in a shop and now I’m in Boston. It’s weird.” She blushed, realising she was talking too much, but Larry didn’t seem to mind. “Um, are you okay?” she asked, when curiosity got the better of her. “You look a bit… pissed off.”
“I’m fine.” Larry had more of his beer, and then said, “I’m sick of people being stupid. And knowing they’re being stupid. And me having to pick up the pieces.”
Jen nodded, doing her best to look as if she understood. Before she could open her mouth, however, Larry was standing and finding another chair, which he placed on Jen’s other side. Edge sat in it, his hair pulled back and his hat on, smiling at Jen. He smelled lovely, just out of the shower, and his eyes were searching hers.
“Hey,” he said, to Jen more than to Larry. “Can I get you… oh, you have one already.”
Jen grinned and raised her glass. “Larry saved me from killing someone to get a drink.”
“I see. Well, in that case, I’ll get one for myself.” Edge went off to the bar, and when he came back he asked Larry if Bono was around.
“I don’t know,” Larry snapped. “Maybe if he’s finished hanging around with fuckin’ reporters.”
Edge exchanged a confused look with Jen. “What are you talking about?”
Larry heaved a huge, deliberate sigh, as if everyone was stupid except him. “Bono. In his dressing room. With that woman from the paper. Sometimes I think he enjoys looking like a twat.”
Jen frowned. “Is that the person who wrote about you in the Gazette? Because I read that piece and it was brilliant.” The responding glare she received from Larry was almost enough to send her running, but Edge was leaning over her and she could smell the shampoo he’d used, and she didn’t want to go anywhere.
“He said he’d sort it out, and that’s what he’s doing,” Edge was saying to Larry. “We have to trust him. If he left it to you, the girl would be in jail by now.”
“Yeah, and not a moment too soon,” Larry retorted, finishing his drink and heading back to the bar. Edge gave Jen an apologetic smile.
“He’s not normally like this,” he explained, sitting upright in his seat. “He hates when his privacy is invaded, that’s all. Bono sometimes doesn’t take him seriously.”
“I can understand the privacy thing,” Jen said. “It must be hard, keeping your personal life separate when you’re in the public eye all the time. I mean, if I was in a band, and that’s a fantasy because I have the worst voice ever and I can’t play any instruments to save my life, but if I was in a band I think I’d go a bit crazy, because you can’t be mean to your fans but also how can you tell people to leave you alone when you’re out with someone, like on a date, I bet that’s hard, and you’re sitting there and everyone’s watching you…” She suddenly realised she was rambling on again, and coloured. “Sorry,” she muttered, sipping her drink.
Edge was watching her with amusement. “No need to apologise,” he said softly. “I was listening.”
Jen was again taken by his gorgeous eyes, and thought if given the chance, she could easily get lost in them for hours.
Larry chose that moment to come back with another pint; he took one look at Edge and Jen, and let out another derisive noise.
“Stupid,” he muttered, shooting Edge a glare.
*
Beth felt as if a million butterflies had taken residence in her stomach by the time the lean black car pulled up outside the hotel. She’d pinched herself a couple of times to make sure this wasn’t one of her bizarre dreams. She really was in a limo, sitting beside Bono, on her way to meet the rest of the band, after which she was going to quit her job at the paper and go on tour with U2.
Bizarre, definitely. But it wasn’t a dream.
It had been Bono’s suggestion that they start the ball rolling that night, while the idea was fresh in their minds. Beth guessed that he was worried about the others’ reactions; she doubted they were as approving of her article as he had been. And she knew if she was going to make a success of her book, she needed to be able to interview all four band members, not just Bono. That, she decided, was going to be the tricky part, especially when it came to Larry. He wasn’t one to accept what had happened without question. Beth, though, was determined to change his mind, whatever it took. Her career was worth more than some rock star’s ego.
The car door was opened for her, and Beth stepped out, staring at the hotel. The lights were on in the bar and through the window she could clearly see people milling about, talking and laughing and having a good time. Suddenly she felt completely out of her depth. What was she doing, going into this world she really knew nothing about? Wouldn’t she be making a fool of herself? Was that was Bono wanted? To pay her back for her deceit?
Bono came up beside her, then, and offered her his arm. When she didn’t take it, he frowned. “Are you okay?”
Beth didn’t know, and told him so. “I don’t know if this is a good idea. I mean, we barely know each other. Me, and you guys…” She shrugged, words deserting her.
“Well, why don’t you see how you feel after you’ve spent some time with everyone?” Bono offered, holding his arm out again. “If you don’t feel comfortable after tonight, you don’t have to do it. There’s no pressure, Beth. I just think you deserve an opportunity beyond a small-town newspaper.”
For better or worse, Beth believed what he was saying. This time, she accepted his arm and they walked into the hotel together. She was still incredibly nervous, and the fact many people stared at her when she arrived arm-in-arm with Bono didn’t help matters. Willing her legs not to shake, she allowed Bono to guide her to where Edge – oh my God, it’s The Edge! – was sitting with a gorgeous blonde girl… and Larry.
Uh-oh.
It was too much to hope he wouldn’t notice her. He was practically the first person to, and his eyes widened with recognition. Instinct told her to hide behind Bono or run away, one of the two, but she knew that wouldn’t solve the problem. She drew herself up and tried to feel taller in the face of Larry’s obvious anger as he approached them.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” he hissed at Bono. “You said you were going to sort it out. That didn’t include bringing her to our hotel!”
Bono pulled Beth’s arm tighter, and she was grateful for it.
“I did sort it out,” Bono replied, smiling. “Beth is going to work for us. Now she won’t be able to go behind our backs. Now, we’ll be able to keep an eye on her.” He gave Beth a wink that suggested he would quite enjoy doing that, or maybe that was my hopeful imagination, and she felt her cheeks burn.
Larry growled. Or at least it sounded like he did. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.”
Bono sighed heavily. “Oh, Larry, come on. Don’t be so cruel. She didn’t mean any harm, did she? She didn’t describe you as a bad-tempered old grump, did she? I think that was kind of her, considering that’s how you’re acting.”
“I want her gone,” Larry continued, paying no heed to Bono’s gentle admonishment. “I don’t want to work where she’s going to be sneaking around, poking her nose in.” He looked so disgusted that Beth actually started to feel insulted. Larry didn’t know the first thing about her, and here he was assuming he did. She let go of Bono’s arm and looked directly at Larry.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said, keeping her voice steady, “but I’m afraid it’s not your choice to make. Bono has offered me a job, and I’ve accepted. You’ll have to get used to me sneaking around.”
Larry stared at her for a few seconds, then at Bono, before shaking his head and going to the bar, probably for a stiff drink. Beth certainly needed one, but Bono was busy taking her over to meet people.
“Edge, c’mere, this is Beth. Beth, The Edge. Beth’s going to write that book we discussed, remember?”
Edge nodded, offering Beth a smile and a hand, showing no outward sign of hating her. “It’s nice to meet you, Beth,” he said. “Bono has been going on about this book for months. The discussion on my part involved listening to him and agreeing a lot.”
Beth laughed. “Sounds like the best way.” She was relieved Edge didn’t seem to share Larry’s tinted view of her.
“And this,” Bono was moving past Edge and pulling the pretty girl to her feet, “is Jen. She just started working for us as our much-needed stylist.”
“Hi,” Jen said, with a big smile that made Beth warm to her immediately and ward off the jealousy that had threatened when she took in Jen’s blue eyes, tousled blonde hair and attractive figure. “I’m the wardrobe girl! It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it, right?”
Edge was laughing. “Right, and rather you than me. Anyone want a drink? I’m getting another.”
Beth and Bono both wanted drinks, so Edge went off to get them while they both found chairs and sat down. Beth became engaged in conversation with Bono and Jen, and realised this wasn’t so scary after all. In fact, if she played it right, she might find going on tour to be lots of fun.
*
Cara leaned her forehead against the cool glass and stared out of the window at the city scene below. Boston was certainly going to take some getting used to, but she knew she could handle it. Somewhere out there was a job she was going to take and a house she was destined to move into.
She heard the bathroom door close and turned to face the man she once thought belonged to her, too.
“When did you get here?” Adam asked, after a few moments’ pause during which he lit another cigarette. Now he was pouring them both a drink, not looking at her.
“Yesterday.” Cara turned back to the night sky. “I moved here, y’know. Fresh start.” She gave a short, humourless laugh. “That didn’t work out so well.”
Adam crossed the floor and handed her the glass of whiskey. “You just happened to be here?”
She shot a glare at him. “Yes. I didn’t come because you] were here, if that’s what you’re thinking. I had no idea. I’d completely forgotten.” She took a drink, wincing at the strength of it. “I wish I had remembered.”
Adam rested his bottom against the window sill, so he was facing Cara, his back to the twinkling city lights. He placed his glass beside hers and removed his spectacles, taking a long time to clean the lenses. “But you didn’t have to attend the show tonight.”
“No.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose before putting the specs back on. “Then why did you?”
She shrugged, not sure of the reason herself. “I don’t… I’m not…” Then she sighed and decided to be as honest as she could. “I wanted to see you.”
Adam took a long time to pick his tumbler up, drink, swallow, place it back down. Cara wondered if he could hear the way her heart was thundering against her rib cage; it sounded so loud in her ears.
“Forgive me,” he began eventually, “but I was under the impression you never wanted to see me again. Isn’t that what you said the last time we saw one another?”
Cara turned her head to see him looking at her, properly, his eyes meeting hers across the inches that separated them, although it might as well have been miles. She felt an irritable rage bubble inside her at him, at his calmness, at the way he was pretending he barely even knew her.
“Of course I said it! You cheated on me!”
“You cheated on me.” Adam pushed himself off the sill and faced her, his expression mild. Cara marvelled at his ability to keep cool when she was on the verge of losing hers altogether.
“That’s not the point!” she shouted, stepping back. It was time to leave, she realised, but for some reason her feet wouldn’t let her. “You can’t blame me for what I did! You were never around, you just gave up. I only did it once!”
Adam drank what remained of his whiskey, but didn’t take his eyes off her. “Once was enough, Cara. For both of us. You hurt me as much as I hurt you, I imagine.”
A lump formed in Cara’s throat; she willed it away, hoping she didn’t start to cry in front of him. She couldn’t break down because then she’d risk telling him what he didn’t know, and risking whatever chance they might have in the future. I can’t believe I’m thinking about the future. We haven’t even dealt with the past.
But this was Adam. How could she have believed it would be easy to walk away and forget about him? She’d been so young and foolish when they met, and she hadn’t understood what he wanted. She hadn’t understood anything. They’d messed each other around, and their relationship had been doomed from the start.
That echo of doom resounded in Cara’s mind as she watched Adam move towards the table to pour himself more alcohol. I can’t help it. There’s so much I feel for him. I wish…
“I wish we hadn’t,” she said, her voice smaller than usual as she looked at the floor and tried not to let her tears fall. “I wish we could change what happened.”
Adam was beside her, his hand on her shoulder. “Cara,” he said gently, “we can’t go back.”
Cara lifted her head and was struck by how handsome he was, how he still made her feel giddy when he stood so close. “Are you sure?”
When Adam’s lips met hers, it was even better than she remembered. He tasted of tobacco and spirits and hope, and as he pulled her close, running his hands through her hair, she wondered if they could go back, after all.
to be continued...
This story just keeps getting better and better!
So I apologize; I'm kinda late to the story!
