Facade
Page 22In the dark, I let the wetness in my eyes brim over. “What happened next?”
“I don’t know,” he says after what feels like forever. “I don’t know the end.”
Another truth I would prefer over the lie. No promises.
Adrian doesn’t say anything else. I can tell when he falls asleep, when his breathing evens out, his body as relaxed as I’ve ever felt it. But I can’t sleep. Guilt churns inside me.
Quietly I slip out of bed. I grab my short robe from my bag and slip it on before walking over to the window and opening the curtains to look out. Please don’t wake up.
You can see the coldness in the air. I look at the stars. They’re so bright, so never ending and so far away from all the hurt that I envy them.
The tattoo on Adrian’s chest shows in my mind and again the look on his face when he saw the little girl. The pain that is so dark and lonely in his eyes and how when we came together, I could have sworn it disappeared. Tears stream down my face. How can I feel that way when I know it’s a lie? When I know he’ll never be able to look at me without seeing the nephew I took from him, once he finds out?
But I have to tell him. After what just happened, something that I will always treasure, I almost feel dirty. It was like he somehow knew and tried to clean it from me but couldn’t because it’s my secret sin he doesn’t know about.
I wipe my eyes, trying to hold all these feelings at bay. I have to tell him and I don’t deserve to cry before I do it.
“She stands amongst the stars of night…”
When I hear his voice, I jump but don’t turn around. I can’t.
“They look back at her and envy her light. For none of those stars shine as bright as she…”
I don’t move. His words are beautiful music in my head.
“That’s all I can think of right now,” he adds. I don’t know what it is about those words, but they break me. All I can think of is it’s perfect exactly how it is. He doesn’t need more, because I don’t think it can get any better.
I can’t hold back the cry that pulls out of me. It’s not loud and I bury my face in my hand, but still he knows. I feel him behind me, so close but not reaching for me.
“I’m sorry.”
I hate that he thinks I’m crying because of what we did. He might not be able to touch me right now, but I need my hands on him. I turn, grab him around the neck, and bury my face into his chest.
“It’s not because of what we did. I loved being with you.”
Finally he holds me back, squeezes me to him. Probably because I’m breaking down, but the reason doesn’t matter.
“Shhh. It’s okay.”
Without knowing it, he saves me from telling him I know about Ashton. That my father ruined their lives.
We stand together, holding each other for what feels like hours. Adrian turns to the side so we can both look out the window and watch the stars.
“You’re wrong,” I whisper. “It’s not me who shines so bright. It’s you.”
He doesn’t answer, but I could swear the beat of his heart picks up against my cheek.
Chapter Seventeen
~Adrian~
No matter what’s going on around me, I’ve always known one thing. I show what I want to whoever I want to see it, but my thoughts have always been mine. I may not like where they go sometimes, but I’m good at keeping them locked in there and knowing what they mean.
Right now I have all sorts of shit taking space inside my brain and I don’t know what half of it means. I don’t like that—the loss of control or the mixed feelings and they all stem from the beautiful, naked girl lying upstairs in bed.
I don’t like to be scared. I spent my childhood living in fear and under the control of my dad. I keep my feelings in check because getting close means being afraid and losing that control. The only people I let go with were Angel and Ashton and then I let Ash die and ran from Angel. It’s been easy to keep my distance since then. Even with Colt and Cheyenne, they don’t really know me.
I think I want my little ghost to know me.
I think she already does.
She knows my words, which are part of my soul, a part I’ve never willingly let anyone else see, yet I show them to her. I write them for her. She knows those parts of me—the only parts of me that aren’t a lie.
Would she still be here if she knew the rest?
“Hey, you. You disappeared.”
I turn toward the sound of her voice, rough with sleep. She’s in her pajamas as she approaches me in the corner of the lobby.
There’s a lie there. An excuse waiting to come out, but in this, this one little thing, I choose to give her a truth. At least as much as I can. “Sometimes there’s so much shit going on up here”—I tap the side of my head—“that I have to have some space… or be alone so I can work through it.”
Which probably makes me sound like an asshole. Or weak, but she doesn’t look at me with either of those feelings in her eyes. Not really pity either. Just understanding tinged with sadness.
“Come here.” Looking at her, all sexy from sleep, her lips swollen from my kisses and her skin blushed with red, probably from remembering what we did last night, I wonder why I ever left her. Why I didn’t lose myself in her again instead of everything in my head.
She steps closer. I’m leaning against the wall and I pull her to me. She fits right up against me and damned if she doesn’t quiet some of the voices. Tell her you don’t want space from her.
Instead, I tilt her head up and kiss her. She tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and melts against me, making me smile against her mouth. My hands fit perfectly on her waist as I let my fingers slightly bite into her skin.
“What are you doing to me?” I ask into her ear before pulling away. She opens her mouth as if to reply, but I shake my head. I needed the question out there so she knows what I’m feeling, but I can’t contemplate the answer. Can’t let myself think about the fact that she’s here and I want her to be or that I’m holding her and kissing her when usually those aren’t the things that are important when I’m with a girl. It’s all about the act, but with her it doesn’t feel like an act and that’s another thing that scares the hell out of me, that I don’t want to think about right now.
“What do you want to do today?” I ask her. It’s not like there’s probably that much to do around here, but I want to do something with her. She’s the girl with ghosts in her eyes, but she’s the most level person I know. She deserves a good day and I want one—to pretend I’m just as level as she is.
“Nothing.”
“What?” I kiss her neck as though I have a right to kiss her when I want to. I know I can’t give her more than this. I’ve never wanted to with anyone else. Those things aren’t inside me anymore, but for another day, I think I’d like to pretend. To wear a different façade than the one usually in place. “Nothing?”
I let one of my hands travel up her body and stroke the soft skin of her neck.
“Okay… maybe… I can’t think when you do that.” Her voice is breathy, the way I like it.
“Fine.” I pull back so my mouth isn’t tempted to taste her again, but keep my hands on her.
“Maybe not nothing, but… why don’t we just hang out? Walk around? It’s more of an adventure if you don’t plan it.” She looks down as though those words embarrass her.
“I love how real you are.” I brush my thumb cross her cheek. “You’re honest, but also… so fucking innocent. You’re different than the other girls I know.” She makes me want to be honest with her.
She closes her eyes, making me think I said the wrong thing. Did the wrong thing. “What’s wrong, Little Ghost?”
Delaney opens her eyes, shadows creeping in on them. For the first time since I was a dumb-ass kid, I want to try and win a battle for someone. I never could growing up, so I learned to stop trying. I don’t like those shadows in her eyes and I wonder if it would be worth it to try again. To go to war with whatever plagues her because at least someone I care about should be happy. Since it won’t be me, I think I’d like it to be her.
“I’m not that honest.”
That’s what she thinks. Her little white lies can’t compare to the ones I live every day.
“Neither am I, so I can’t fault you for that. But you’re innocent and it’s sexy as hell.”
It’s so strange, being with her like this. Being with anyone like this. What I just told her sounds like a line, one I would have used on another girl, but with her it’s true. The words come out without having to think about them or plan them or paste that fake-ass smile on my face.
“I never expected…” She shakes her head.
I feel her pulling away. This is where I should open my hands and let her go. Set her free because she deserves to fly and I never will, but instead I touch her hands, gently prying them away from her face. “Don’t think. Don’t stress. Just… laugh until those ghosts disappear from your eyes. They do, ya know? They’re not always there. I can’t make promises, but we’re here now. Let’s just…” Ashton slips his way into my head.
“I Adrian… you Ash.”
“No, no.” I shake my head at him. “You’re Ash.”
“Let’s play. I wanna be like you.”
I remember standing there in awe because this little guy wanted to be me. No one ever envied me for anything. Girls wanted me, Dad liked to hit me, Angel protected me, but here was this little kid who wanted to be me. It was fucking incredible.
“Let’s pretend to be someone else. Pretend we don’t have anything to worry about except right now.” And I need that. I didn’t think I needed anything anymore, but standing here, I realize I do.
“Okay.”
“I’ll make sure you don’t regret it,” I say against her ear. She shivers and it transfers to me. Damn this girl affects me.
We go upstairs to our room. “I need to take a shower,” she tells me.
Yeah. That sounds good to me too. “Want some company?” I ask, and damned if she doesn’t blush.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea if we want to get out of here.”
There’s something else to her voice that tells me not to push it. It has nothing to do with being out of here on time because we don’t have a specific time to go anywhere. She has her boundaries, just like I do, only mine aren’t physical.
I nod, without breaking eye contact so she knows I’m hearing her. I learned that growing up. Even if I don’t understand something or I know it’s a lie, or on those rare occasions I get it and it’s real, look someone in the eye when it’s important. When Mom was hurt, she could never do that. That’s how I knew it was a lie, even if the bruises couldn’t be seen.
While she takes a shower, I unwrap my hand. It’s healed enough that I don’t need to keep the bandage on anymore. Even though my eye isn’t as purple as it was, I still have the strike against me. Having my hand bandaged feels like another one. It’s one of those signs that something’s wrong that people notice but don’t fucking act on.
I don’t want to look like that when I’m with her.
I shower after she does. I come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist. Delaney’s standing by the mirror, looking into the glass, but I know she’s really waiting on me. It’s in the way she stands and the way she turns to look my way and fuck if I don’t get hard seeing her look at me all innocent in nothing but a bra and a pair of jeans.