hung on him, was able to compare face to face, breasts to breasts, ass to ass, he might not bother with her anymore. Even as a friend. She thought of the ex-cheerleaders who were hanging all over him that morning. It was how she’d felt next to them in high school. How she’d felt alone at night in her room when she heard the echoes of their taunts.
Barking.
The nickname stuck even as she got her braces off, grew into her gangly body, and her skin cleared. No matter what she did, it followed her like a suffocating shadow. She hated how she’d been cut down by a stupid nickname. She hated how, being back with all these people, she still could be.
“That’s a terrible excuse, Val.”
“You could have come to visit me,” she tried. Better he see her stacked up against other women in the symphony. Women she could actually compete with.
His eyes went dark, his usually proud chin lowered. “I know,” he said. He had his own reasons for staying in L.A. Reasons she knew were probably the same as some of her own. They didn’t belong together in the real world, even as friends. He was famous and beautiful and she was plain and normal, numbingly normal, and putting them in the same room would only illustrate that.
The only reason it hadn’t yet this weekend was because this was not the real world.
But there were also the secrets she knew about him. The secrets that might have been the real reason he’d never come to visit her. She knew his past better than anyone, she knew that he’d tried to give himself to her, and she knew that she’d said no.
“We could start visiting each other now,” he suggested.
“What’s changed?” she asked before she could stop herself. She didn’t need him to reply; the answer was everything.
“Well, I’ll be in L.A. for six months recording our next album, and now that I’ve been in the same room with you again,” he said, his gaze intensifying so fiercely his dimple shook, “FaceTime is not going to cut it.”
She swallowed.
“I should have insisted on seeing you before now.”
She managed a laugh. “You’ve never been able to make me do anything.”
He looked away, his hand circling the neck of his guitar. Was he thinking about that day? The day he’d left for New York, the day she’d said no?
She’d apologized so many times when she was trying to get him to speak to her again, but it was clear it still hurt him. When someone as closed off as Alec finally opens the door and gets it slammed shut, does he ever really recover?
“We can go to the beach,” he said, thankfully bringing the subject back to her visit. “You’ll love it.”
“Sounds perfect,” she said, leaning back on the pillow, trying to picture walking along the beach with him. Would they hold hands?
“And don’t worry, when you come to L.A. your rule about being the only woman in my life will still apply.”
Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Did she want him to be saying it?
“It’ll be just you and me hanging out for as long as you want to stay,” he continued.
Hanging out . No, he wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying. He was being polite. It made her a little sick that she’d even thought he could see her that way now.
“I’m there, unless I’m in London.” Her response was two-pronged. To remind her to forget those fantasies and to indicate to him that she had better things to do than just hang out.
“London.” Alec’s eyes went dark. “I guess I forgot.”
Was he upset she might be going? Would he have been two days ago?
“They have cell phones in London.”
His gaze met hers, the doubt in his eyes hypnotizing seconds into minutes. “I guess FaceTime is going to have to cut it,” he finally said.
Her mouth turned to dust. Was he working to forget some fantasies, too?
She glanced at the clock, anywhere to escape his eyes. “We’re going to be late for cocktails.” She couldn’t believe how the afternoon had gotten away from her, from
Barking.
The nickname stuck even as she got her braces off, grew into her gangly body, and her skin cleared. No matter what she did, it followed her like a suffocating shadow. She hated how she’d been cut down by a stupid nickname. She hated how, being back with all these people, she still could be.
“That’s a terrible excuse, Val.”
“You could have come to visit me,” she tried. Better he see her stacked up against other women in the symphony. Women she could actually compete with.
His eyes went dark, his usually proud chin lowered. “I know,” he said. He had his own reasons for staying in L.A. Reasons she knew were probably the same as some of her own. They didn’t belong together in the real world, even as friends. He was famous and beautiful and she was plain and normal, numbingly normal, and putting them in the same room would only illustrate that.
The only reason it hadn’t yet this weekend was because this was not the real world.
But there were also the secrets she knew about him. The secrets that might have been the real reason he’d never come to visit her. She knew his past better than anyone, she knew that he’d tried to give himself to her, and she knew that she’d said no.
“We could start visiting each other now,” he suggested.
“What’s changed?” she asked before she could stop herself. She didn’t need him to reply; the answer was everything.
“Well, I’ll be in L.A. for six months recording our next album, and now that I’ve been in the same room with you again,” he said, his gaze intensifying so fiercely his dimple shook, “FaceTime is not going to cut it.”
She swallowed.
“I should have insisted on seeing you before now.”
She managed a laugh. “You’ve never been able to make me do anything.”
He looked away, his hand circling the neck of his guitar. Was he thinking about that day? The day he’d left for New York, the day she’d said no?
She’d apologized so many times when she was trying to get him to speak to her again, but it was clear it still hurt him. When someone as closed off as Alec finally opens the door and gets it slammed shut, does he ever really recover?
“We can go to the beach,” he said, thankfully bringing the subject back to her visit. “You’ll love it.”
“Sounds perfect,” she said, leaning back on the pillow, trying to picture walking along the beach with him. Would they hold hands?
“And don’t worry, when you come to L.A. your rule about being the only woman in my life will still apply.”
Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Did she want him to be saying it?
“It’ll be just you and me hanging out for as long as you want to stay,” he continued.
Hanging out . No, he wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying. He was being polite. It made her a little sick that she’d even thought he could see her that way now.
“I’m there, unless I’m in London.” Her response was two-pronged. To remind her to forget those fantasies and to indicate to him that she had better things to do than just hang out.
“London.” Alec’s eyes went dark. “I guess I forgot.”
Was he upset she might be going? Would he have been two days ago?
“They have cell phones in London.”
His gaze met hers, the doubt in his eyes hypnotizing seconds into minutes. “I guess FaceTime is going to have to cut it,” he finally said.
Her mouth turned to dust. Was he working to forget some fantasies, too?
She glanced at the clock, anywhere to escape his eyes. “We’re going to be late for cocktails.” She couldn’t believe how the afternoon had gotten away from her, from
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