A Lie for a Lie

by Hunting, Helena

  “Yes, you do, Lainey. I’m the man you met on the plane who comforted you, the one you spent all those weeks with, the one who taught you how to drive and held you through a thunderstorm. That’s the real me.”

  He moves to touch me again, so I shoot up off the love seat and step out of reach. “I don’t know what to believe.”

  “I get that it looks bad—I really do, Lainey—but if you check all the dates you’ll see it was years ago. I came from a small town and was drafted young. I made some choices that weren’t the best, and I live in a city where hockey players are on par with celebrities—in an era where everything that should be private is public fodder. My mom and my sister wouldn’t speak to me for almost a year because of all the shit out there, so I know what the consequences of my actions are.”

  I scoff at that last part. He has no idea what kind of repercussions I’ve faced as a result—or the strain it’s put on my relationship with my parents. If I thought they were protective before I went to Alaska, they were a million times worse when I came back.

  “There had to have been a time in your life where you rebelled. Haven’t you ever gone through a wild phase, Lainey?”

  “Yes. You were my wild phase, and clearly that was a terrible mistake,” I snap.

  RJ pushes out of his chair and tries to corral me, but I slip between the chairs, out of reach once again.

  “You said you planned to tell me the truth once you got to LA and we got in touch, but how was that ever going to work? I’d see all the same things, and I would’ve been on the other side of the country. How would you explain it then? How would you have been able to make me see whatever truth you want to feed me?” I move toward the house. “I tried to find you—I called every single alpaca farm in New York looking for you, but no one knew who you were, which makes sense, since I was asking for someone they’d never heard of.”

  RJ’s expression is pained. “My mom sold the farm right after Max was born—to an investor. She wanted to be in LA with my sister and brother.”

  I shake my head, not wanting to hear how we missed each other by weeks. “I tried to find you, but how hard did you try to find me, RJ? Really and truly?” I remember how devastated I was when I couldn’t find him and how, recently, I began to wonder if it hadn’t been a karmic blessing. “I need to go.”

  RJ’s shoulders cave. “Please, Lainey.”

  “I can’t be here right now. This is too much.” I move toward the sliding door, needing to get away from him and all the memories and the conflict I’m feeling over him and everything I know now.

  “Can’t you give me a chance to prove you already know the real me?”

  I can’t look at him and see that his expression matches the sadness in his voice. I want to give him that chance, but I don’t want to set myself up for more disappointment. “And put my heart on the line for you again? How will I trust you?”

  He steps in front of the door before I can reach it. I stumble back, and he grips my biceps to keep me from falling—or maybe to keep me from running away. I long for the feel of his arms around me again. I want to sink into his warmth and the comfort I remember so vividly still.

  “I was falling for you. I was halfway in l—”

  “Don’t!” I all but shout. “Don’t play with my emotions. It’s unfair.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing. I’m trying to be honest.”

  “You had plenty of chances to be honest. Just let me go, Rook.” I say his name like a curse.

  “I already let you go once, Lainey, and it gutted me—I don’t know if I can do it again.”

  “Well, you can’t hold me captive, can you?”

  “No. I can’t.” He releases me, and I spin around, yank the door open, and pad across the hardwood to the front entrance. Stupid, rogue tears start to fall as I shove my feet into my flats. I don’t know how to reconcile the version of him I thought I knew with the one who lives in an almost mansion and has a reputation for being a colossal playboy.

  I struggle to open the door, unable to figure out how the locks work with how blurry my vision is. I realize I’m on the verge of a full-blown panic attack—all of this is too much to handle. I struggle to breathe, to think. My vision swims with dots, and suddenly I find myself pulled into his solid embrace.

  His lips find my temple. “Breathe, Lainey—just breathe.”

  I cling to his shirt, trying to force myself to let go when all I want to do is hold on tighter. He rubs soothing circles on my back, murmuring for me to breathe over and over, telling me he’s sorry, that he never wanted to hurt me.

  I count all the things I can feel, see, hear, taste, and smell. Eventually I calm down enough that I’m able to pry my fingers from his shirt. I press my palms against his chest, his heart beating hard under them.

  He brushes away my tears. “I’m so sorry, Lainey. This wasn’t what I wanted. I thought your silence was your way of telling me my feelings were one-sided.”

  “I have to go.” It’s nothing but a broken whisper.

  He cups my face in his palms. “Please look at me.”

  I slowly lift my eyes, taking in his devastatingly handsome face.

  “I messed this up once, Lainey, and I understand that I’ve blindsided you with all of this, but I promise I’m the man you met a year ago, and I’m going to do everything in my power to prove that to you.” For a moment I think he’s going to kiss me.

  And he does—on the cheek.

  My skin burns. My heart stutters.

  I should tell him my own truth.

  But for now we’re tied: a lie for a lie.

  CHAPTER 15

  BACK IN THE GAME

  Rook

  Lainey asked for space, but considering how upset she was yesterday when she left my place—and how poorly I slept—I call her first thing the next morning and leave a voice mail asking how she’s doing and letting her know I’m thinking about her before I hit the gym.

  I still haven’t heard from Lainey by the time I’m finished with my workout, so I fire off a message with basically the same content as the voice mail and then proceed to order her a bouquet of flowers. I’m just about to head home when my phone lights up. I check the screen, elated as fuck when I see Lainey’s name pop up.

  “Hey, hi. How are you?”

  “Uh, hi. Is this RJ?” It’s a female voice, but it’s not Lainey.

  “It is.” I check the screen. It’s definitely Lainey’s number, which I memorized the night I acquired it. “Who is this?”

  “Uh, it’s Eden. I’m a friend of Lainey’s, and I’m sort of staging an intervention.”

  “An intervention? Is Lainey in some sort of trouble?” I consider the dark circles under her eyes and her anxiety—which I was familiar with in Alaska, but it was always something she seemed to manage okay when she was comfortable and felt safe—but maybe I’m missing something.

  “Not like an intervention intervention—more like I’m trying to give her a friendly nudge in the right direction. So I’m probably going to get myself in some trouble for telling you this, but she hasn’t ever really gotten over you. I mean, she’s been dealing with a lot of stuff, and she’s only recently tried to start dating.”

  “She’s dating someone?” This is not what I want to hear.

  “Not really. I mean, they’ve gone on a couple of dates, and she thinks he’s nice and stable or whatever, but she’s not really into him.”

  “So it’s not serious?”

  “No. Not yet, anyway. Like I said, just a couple of dates, but I think he really likes her—and he lives in her building, so that’s not ideal for you.”

  “Shit. No, it’s not.” I really need to step up my game.

  “It’s just that Lainey has a lot on her plate, most of which I’m pretty sure she hasn’t mentioned to you but definitely should.”

  “Is there something I can do? Some way I can help?”

  “We both get off at four. You should come by the aquarium.”

  “
But I just saw her yesterday, and she said she needed time.”

  “Lainey’s already had lots of time. More than a year. She’s scared. If you’re really serious about wanting her to give you a second chance, you should be here. She’s leading a private tour until three forty-five. Shoot, gotta go.” She hangs up before I can thank her.

  I need to get my ass in gear and figure out how to make Lainey see I’m serious—and that I’m more than just lies and empty promises.

  I stop at home, shower again, and change into black dress pants and a button-down. I don’t know why I feel the compulsion to dress like I’m ready for a date, but on the off chance Lainey’s interested in more than telling me to fuck off, I want to be adequately prepared.

  I arrive at the aquarium at three thirty, just to be safe, and approach the front desk. A familiar-looking woman with brown hair, glasses, and a whole lot of curves gives me a once-over and a raised eyebrow. “No flowers this time?”

  “Dammit.” I can’t believe I forgot to stop on the way over. “Is there a place close by where I can pick some up real quick?”

  She holds up a hand. “Lainey left the last bouquet here because she doesn’t have room in her apartment for more, so I think you’re good on the flowers.”

  “What about chocolate or something?”

  “She left the last box of chocolates here too. And while we all appreciate it, because they were delicious, I’m trying not to gain ten pounds before the holidays this year, so you can put a hold on the chocolate and flowers for a little while. Maybe for a week.” She extends her hand. “I’m Eden.”

  I wipe my palm on my pants before I shake her hand. “Rook Bowman—I mean, RJ.”

  “Oh, I know who you are.” She props an elbow on the counter and motions to a bench close to one of the many fish tanks. “Might as well take a seat—you’ve got a few minutes before she’s done. You get bonus points for being early, though.” She pushes her glasses up her nose and turns to the screen in front of her, dismissing me.

  “Okay, thanks.”

  I manage to stay seated for about five minutes before I get antsy and start to pace. I end up standing in front of the dolphin exhibit while I wait for Lainey. Today the boy dolphin seems to be on his best behavior.

  Eventually Lainey and a small group of very scholarly-looking people enter the lobby. Most of them disperse, but one guy stays behind to talk to her. I can tell by the way he keeps jamming his hand into his pocket and then rubbing the back of his neck that he’s interested in her. Which isn’t much of a surprise. Lainey’s gorgeous, even in her drab beige uniform.

  As if she can sense my presence, her gaze shifts to me. The guy she’s talking to is in the middle of a sentence when she walks away from him, heading straight for me. I’d like to say getting her attention is a good thing, but based on her expression she’s not all that happy to see me.

  “Why are you here?” she snaps.

  I jam my hands into my pockets, just like the guy she blew off. “I wanted to see how you’re doing after yesterday.”

  She blinks a few times, maybe a little shocked, and wrings her hands. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t seem fine. You seem upset.” The circles that I noticed under her eyes yesterday are even more pronounced, like my appearance in her life has caused her to lose sleep. I don’t like that idea, but I guess I can understand. I haven’t been sleeping all that great either.

  “I didn’t expect you to show up here after yesterday.” She tugs at the end of her braid.

  “Can I take you for coffee—or hot chocolate?”

  “I can’t, I have to . . . I-I have an obligation,” she stammers; the hand-wringing ratchets up a notch.

  Eden appears out of nowhere, laden down with jackets and purses. “Actually, I can handle your obligation for you.”

  Lainey gives her a meaningful look. “You really don’t need to do that.”

  “It’s no big deal. I can totally handle it.” She hands Lainey her purse.

  “I’d like to at least change first and check on . . . things.”

  “You look beautiful just the way you are, but if you want, I can drive you home. We could even pick up coffee and go to your place if that’s easier for you.”

  “No!” she shouts and then lowers her voice. “I mean—I need to clean. And I live just across the street. There’s a coffee shop next door. I can meet you there in twenty minutes.”

  “Okay, sure.” I assume she’s being all sketchy because she doesn’t want to run into the guy she’s dating in her building. A coffee shop isn’t ideal, especially since I don’t have a ball cap to hide under, but I’ll take whatever I can get here.

  CHAPTER 16

  HEY, BABY

  Lainey

  I am going to kill Eden. Okay, that’s untrue. I can barely manage killing a spider, but I’m going to be very annoyed with her for at least the rest of today. I take several deep breaths as the elevator counts down the floors to the lobby.

  I would really like to be less anxious right now. My palms are insanely sweaty. Actually, a lot of parts of me are sweaty. I check my reflection in the surrounding mirrors, making sure the concealer I dabbed under my eyes is blended in properly. This morning I got into the elevator and realized it was still smeared in a line—like those black lines football players have, except it was flesh colored.

  The elevator doors slide open, and I step into the lobby, murmuring hello to people getting on. And, of course, one of them happens to be Walter. Instead of getting on the elevator, he lets everyone else pile in and pulls me into a hug.

  Through the window across the lobby I can see RJ, hands jammed into his pockets, watching the exchange with narrowed eyes. I release Walter first and take a step back, which makes him take a step forward. He’s weird about personal space.

  “You look nice—are you going somewhere?” Walter fingers the end of my braid, which also puts his hand close to my boob.

  I glance toward the window again. RJ’s face is practically pressed up against it, and if he had superpowers, I would bet that laser beams would be shooting out of his eyes right now and Walter would be minus a hand.

  “Just coffee with a friend.”

  “Lucky friend.” He gives me an exaggerated wink. “Will you be around later? Maybe I could come by and we could watch an episode of Jeopardy! together.”

  “Oh, um, can I take a rain check? I’m not sure how long I’ll be out, and I haven’t been sleeping all that well the last few nights.”

  His smile drops. “Sure, of course. You can call if you change your mind. I have a bag of sweet-and-salty popcorn and some of that special mint hot chocolate you’re always drinking.”

  “That sounds nice.” I push the elevator button for him. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Sounds great.” He leans in and kisses me on the cheek before I can run away.

  Thankfully, the elevator dings.

  RJ is waiting outside the front doors for me. I glance over my shoulder, relieved to see that Walter is already in the elevator. He lifts his hand in a parting wave at the same time as RJ pulls me in for a brief hug. Walter’s smile slides off his face like an egg off a nonstick pan as he disappears behind the elevator doors.

  “Friend of yours?” RJ asks, obviously referring to Walter.

  “Yes. He is.” I adjust my purse. I want to tack on that it really isn’t any of his business, but I refrain.

  “Does he work in IT or something?”

  I frown. “How did you know that?”

  He smirks. “Lucky guess.”

  “Walter is nice. Not everyone is built like a Greek god and gets to be a celebrity.” As if I need to stroke his ego. Based on everything I’ve seen in my internet searches—which is all I have to go on, since I have no idea where the lies end with him—he and a good percentage of the female population of Chicago know how amazing his body is. I push past him and head for the coffee shop next door. I know the baristas here, and there are always a lot of regulars, so it f
eels like a safe space.

  RJ grabs my hand. “Sorry. I’m just . . . jealous and being petty.”

  I purse my lips and try not to let the butterflies in my stomach get the best of me.

  RJ puts his hand on the small of my back, inciting another storm of butterflies. He also opens the door for me and pays for our coffees and pastries, although I order a decaf tea because I’m already having enough trouble sleeping these days without hopping myself up on caffeine at dinnertime.

  He picks out a table in the corner, and we settle into our seats. I’m barely out of my jacket when two teenage boys approach us asking for autographs. For the next half hour RJ is bombarded every two minutes by another group of people asking to take pictures and wanting an autograph. Teenagers, college kids, adult men, and fawning women who rudely drool all over him with me sitting right there across the table. It’s incredibly overwhelming. And enlightening.

  This is his life. This is what happens to him every time he goes out in this city. It’s what he knows, and I have to assume it’s much worse depending on where he is and who’s around him. I consider all the pictures I’ve found since I discovered his true identity, and a very small part of me can understand how difficult it would be to have a relationship that involves any kind of equity.

  He would never know if he was wanted by someone because of his fame or because of who he really is. And isn’t that another question I don’t have an answer to? The man I was with in Alaska was kind and sweet and down-to-earth. But this . . . it’s completely different. And this is what his life is really like.

  I move aside, unable to handle the number of people clamoring to get close to him, and allow his fans to mob him while I observe from the sidelines. RJ is gracious and accommodating and charismatic, but I can sense his frustration by the tic in his cheek as more people gather for selfies. Finally, once everyone has had their picture taken and he’s signed all the hats and random pieces of paper people shove at him—and even a couple of magazine spreads—he gives me a pained smile. “Is there somewhere we can go that’s a little less openly public? I should’ve worn a ball cap—it helps make me less identifiable.”