Unravelled (Revealed #2) by Alice Raine

tried to clear my eyes as I glared at the phone again as if it had just personally stabbed me in the heart. I have no idea how I resisted the urge to fling the bloody thing at the wall. But I held back, just. If Allie chose to call me – and that seemed like a pretty big ‘if’ – but if she called, I needed my phone to be in working order.
    My free hand came up to run through my hair as I tried to work out what the hell had happened in the last forty minutes. A complete fuck-up, that’s what had happened. To summarise – I’d screwed up, big time.
    Dropping the phone onto the covers, I scrubbed at my face with my hands, trying to ease the ache growing behind my eyeballs. Why did I ever try to shield Allie from all this shit with Savannah? It must look like I was a completely deceitful arsehole.
    In hindsight, it was blindingly obvious that I should have just told Allie as soon as it happened. She’d have understood. But now, if I tried to explain, it would just look like I was trying to cover my tracks.
    Fuck. I couldn’t believe the way I’d snapped in the car and taunted her with the fact that Savannah had tried to kiss me. And yeah, she had looked fucking hot, so it would have been easy to give in. Wincing, I scrubbed at my face again, unable to believe that I’d been so heartless. My recklessly yelled words and the pain they had caused in Allie’s beautiful eyes were going to haunt me forever.
    What an unbelievable mess. In reality, what it came down to was this: for some stupid fucking reason I’d chosen the show over my girl. My job provided for me, supported me financially, but at the end of the day there were other roles out there I could get, and quite frankly it wasn’t exactly like I was short of cash.
    Up until now I’d always lived for my job. My career had been it for me, but since meeting Allie it had become crystal clear that she was it for me. She made me complete. I should have told the studios, and Savannah, to piss off the second this engagement farce was brought up.
    Wincing, I tried to acknowledge the horrible, sickening fact that my screwed-up deceit had turned the one woman I’d ever loved against me – my smiling, loving, gorgeous girl. God, the thought that she might hate me was like a dagger to my heart.
    My fingers twitched with the need to do something, anything, that might help. What I needed to do was focus on how I could make things right. I tried to imagine how Allie must be feeling, and in return my stomach sank so low that I actually felt sick. No doubt she felt confused, alone, and utterly betrayed. Every fibre in my body wanted to go to her, drag her into my arms and comfort her, but I knew that would only make matters worse between us.
    God, I hoped she’d go to the hotel and not stay in that awful hostel. The thought of her sleeping in an unlocked room in LA was almost enough to send me further into a panic. I’d give her a few hours to cool off and then go and see if she’d checked in. Maybe she’d even agree to speak to me.
    Drawing in a deep breath, I was relieved to find my lungs working far better than they had been a minute ago. It seemed that forming a plan of action had helped me step away from the brink of my panic attack. Thank fuck for that. My hands lowered to the soft bedding below as I vaguely came back to reality and looked around the room.
    Shaking my head at my situation I very nearly laughed. I was sitting on a bed which I slept in at night, but it wasn’t my bed. It was a bed in a room which was mine temporarily, in a house I didn’t own – or even like – instead of being in my beautiful new apartment, in my superking-sized bed with Allie tucked by my side. Talk about a cold, hard reality check.
    This was turning out to be one of the worst days of my entire fucking life.
    A second later my phone rang beside me, and I nearly leapt through the ceiling in my rush to grab it in case it was Allie. My heart sank when I saw the name on the screen