by Sienna Blake
“I know,” I whispered.
“If anyone finds out—”
“They won’t. We’re being careful.”
He snorted. “I found out.”
He did. And if he found out. Others would too.
If he noticed that Danny was treating me differently from anyone else in class, others would too.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Ethan said. “But I’m worried about you. He’s…” Broken beyond repair. A bastard. “He’s going to hurt you.”
I know, I wanted to say. I know, but I can’t stop. He’s an addiction.
The water in the shower shut off and panic gripped me. Danny couldn’t see Ethan here. I couldn’t let Ethan see Danny. Ethan knowing was one thing. Him seeing Danny was something entirely different.
“You have to go, Ethan.” I started to close the door, but Ethan stuck his boot in, jamming the door open before I could.
“Tell me you’ll end it,” he demanded.
“I…”
“Promise me.”
I wanted to. I wanted to say that I was strong enough. But I was too far gone now. I was lost. Thrown off balance the very day he entered my life all those years ago. And I had never recovered.
“Ethan, please,” I begged.
Please, don’t make me promise that. Please, leave it alone.
We stared at each other for one long moment. I heard the door to the bathroom unlock, sounding like a gun shot. I gasped.
Ethan slid his foot out of the door. I let out a sigh of relief. Relief couldn’t cover up all my guilt, though.
I’m sorry, I mouthed.
The last thing I saw when I closed the door was Ethan’s disappointed face. It cut into the heart of me. Mirroring the part of me that was deeply disappointed, too.
60
____________
Ailis
Today was a shitty, shitty day.
And not just because the weather was grey and drizzly. Danny left for London earlier this week and I was grumpy because as much as I hated to admit it, I missed him. I missed his hands on me. Missed his lips on mine. I missed writing music with him. I missed watching him light up when a new melody struck him or inspired lyrics. I missed the way his body would turn from hard and cold to a fiery, alive being, like a marble god come to life.
I cracked and sent him a text message earlier today, but he hadn’t replied yet.
Anna still wasn’t back and wouldn’t be until term started in a few days. Ethan wasn’t talking to me so I’d spent these last few days alone, drinking coffee by myself at Clement & Pekoe, a hip café nearby.
I was returning from one such coffee excursion when I almost ran into someone coming out of my building stairwell. I stepped left just as he stepped the same way. I stepped right just as he did too. We both looked at each other and laughed that awkward laugh.
“We’re dancing,” he said in a melodic Northern Ireland accent, the one that lilted up at the end. “And I don’t even know your name.”
I laughed. “I know, right? How rude.”
“I’m Kieran.”
I took a closer look at him. He was cute, lovely jade eyes and short hair the colour of chestnuts. “I’m Ailis.”
“Ailis. A lovely name for an Irish rose.”
I blinked. He was flirting with me. I felt a flutter in my belly, my skin heating at his assessing stare, a thread of guilt weaving through me even though I know it shouldn’t. It’s not like Danny and I were a couple, right?
“Are you new to the building?” I asked, shifting the subject. “I’ve not seen you around.”
“I am.” He had a devastating smile with the cutest dimple. “Just moved in a few days ago. Moved here from Donegal for work.”
“Well, welcome, then. I hope you like Dublin.”
I sidestepped past him and made my way up the stairs, aware of his eyes on my back.
“I hope I see you around, Ailis,” he called after me.
Twenty-four hours later and Danny still hadn’t replied.
I lay on my bed, scrolling through my news feed, trying not to think about Danny. I’d tried playing my guitar, tried singing, but that just made me sad because it felt strange without Danny beside me.
I tried reading a book but the romantic hero kept morphing into a certain dark-haired, blue-eyed, broody bastard.
There was nothing on TV.
I felt…empty. Restless. Fidgety. Wondering what the hell Danny was up to.
I opened up an incognito browser in my search engine and typed in Danny O’Donaghue London.
I stared at the words for ages, my insides warring, before I hit search.
It took seconds for the results to populate. Each heading stabbed me in my gut, tearing a hole and letting the blood drain from me, leaving me cold.
Ireland’s Musical Sweethearts
Ireland’s Songbirds Turned Lovebirds
Ireland’s Rock Bad Boy Tamed by Pop Princess
There were photos of Danny, a tall willowy woman in his arms. Taylor Moore, Ireland’s young, blonde, girl-next-door pop queen. She was stunning, tall and slender like a model, and her stage presence was phenomenal, say what you like about her music. She was everything I wasn’t. Everything I would never be. And perfect for Danny.
Despite the feeling of nausea curdling in my belly, I clicked on an article.
Ireland’s indie rock bad boy, Danny O’Donaghue, has been seen out and about in London with Ireland’s pop princess, Taylor Moore. “I’m so happy to announce that Danny is co-writing two songs with me for my next album. I’m so excited!” When asked about their relationship status, Ms Moore stated, “We’ve been dating secretly for months despite busy schedules. We wanted to be sure that it was right, you know, that’s why we kept it hush-hush until now.”
This was why Danny hadn’t texted me back. This was why he was so vague about London. He’d been seeing her this whole time.
I thought we’d gotten closer. I thought he was beginning to care about me. Was beginning to open up.
Fool.
Stop it, Ailis. There must be a reasonable explanation for this picture.
I had to give him a chance to explain. I couldn’t freak out until I knew the truth.
I knew this would happen if I got involved with someone famous. The media could twist anything. Run untrue stories. Run half-truths.
If this was an untruth.
With shaking fingers, I found Danny’s name in my contacts and hit call. My hope grew heavier as the phone rang out. I sent him a message.
Me: Danny, please, call me. I need to talk to you.
He didn’t reply. My hope sank lower and lower, twisting into a jumbled mess in the pit of my stomach.
61
____________
Danny
A missed call from Ailis and two text messages.
They were burning on my phone the entire time I was in London.
This was not the way it was supposed to go. I was not supposed to care about her this much. It was supposed to stay just sex.
Just sex.
But the other night, New Year’s Eve, was everything but just sex. And the next morning I found myself in the fucking kitchen making her breakfast. Even that I fucked up.
I wanted to call Ailis back. But damn, was I confused as hell. Every time I opened a text message or my finger hovered over the call button, I froze, fear crashing over me, making me mute and motionless.
What the hell was I going to say to her?
If I called her, what expectations would she have?
Where the hell was this supposed to go?
I wasn’t equipped to be someone’s boyfriend. I was a moody, selfish prick. What the hell did I have to offer a girl like Ailis? She deserved so much better than me.
I closed my phone and shoved it into the bottom of my bag in disgust. I barely looked at it during my time in London, working a co-writing deal out with Taylor Moore and her lawyers.
I didn’t realise the shitstorm I was about t
o walk into when I arrived back in Dublin.
Ailis was sitting in front of my door when I stepped out of my elevator. A flood of something close to happiness crashed through me at the sight of her strawberry-blonde hair. Until she glanced up and I saw the hard press to her lips and the furrow to her brows.
Ah, fuck. I was in trouble.
“Sorry I didn’t get back to you,” I said. “I was busy. I was going to come right over.”
There. I apologised.
She stood and folded her arms over her chest, blocking access to my apartment. “Taylor Moore.”
I stiffened. “What about her?”
“Are you seeing her? I think I have a right to know.”
I frowned. “We just know each other professionally. I just agreed to write two songs with her for her next album.”
I did it for the money. Money that I needed to keep me afloat until I could release my album. I would do anything to avoid asking my father for money. Anything. Even sell my soul to the commercial machine. Just this once.
Ailis took her phone out of her pocket and held it out so I could see the screen. “So this is…?”
Fuck me. It was a picture taken of Taylor hugging me outside the fancy-ass restaurant where she insisted that we meet to talk business. From this angle it looked intimate. The headline didn’t help. “Taylor Moore Announces Love-Deal with Rock’s Bad Boy.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Her PR person must have leaked the story. A lie. Taylor would do anything for publicity. She must have known the story was going to run. She never said a damn thing to me. Never asked my permission to grease the rumour mills this way. Never considered what shite she would cause in my life. I should have known that Taylor would have capitalised on our unlikely collab.
“It’s a publicity stunt.”
“So you’re telling me you’ve never slept with her.”
I paused. Long enough for Ailis to notice. The blood drained from her face and she looked as pale as I’d ever seen her.
Fuck.
“You did. You slept with her.” Ailis’s lip trembled.
I had. But not in London. Still, guilt slammed through me. I felt sticky and gritty and dirty under my skin and it made me lash out.
“It’s been ages since she and I—” Why was I having to defend myself? “For fuck’s sake,” I growled. “You and I aren’t even together and you’re getting on my case.”
She flinched. “You asshole.”
I threw my hands up in the air, trying to block out the crushing feeling that this was all my fault. “I told you that I couldn’t be anyone’s boyfriend. I told you I wasn’t good at this shite.”
“This shite?”
Ah, fuck. “You know what I mean.”
“I thought the other night—” she cut off.
New Year’s Eve. The memory of her eyes open as I sank into her body slammed through me. As did all the intense feelings she’d managed to stir in me. Fuck. I couldn’t deal with this right now.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to hurt her. I thought I’d protected us both from pain by keeping things casual between us. But that didn’t work. I hurt her anyway.
Asshole.
“You thought wrong,” I said, my voice colder than I intended it to be.
“If you can date other people, then so can I.”
My eyes snapped open as a wave of rage filled my head. The thought of another man touching her, kissing her, fucki—
I cut that thought off before I lost my damn mind. It made me want to punch a hole in the closest wall. Or this other guy’s head.
I sucked in a breath, ready to tear that idea apart when logic smacked me in the face. I couldn’t keep things casual and refuse to let her see other people. No matter how much I hated the idea.
What did you think was going to happen, Danny? a voice said inside of me. That you could just have her without strings forever? That nothing had to change?
Ailis deserved more than me. One day, one day soon, she’d figure it out and leave.
She’d leave and I’d be alone again.
Because everyone I loved left.
I let the coldness seep into my heart, turning it to stone, trapping all these emotions in a frozen prison so that I didn’t have to deal with them. Not today. It was the only thing that gave me the strength to keep going. The only thing that stopped me from falling apart.
“Fine,” I said, my voice as hard as ice.
Pain registered on her beautiful face at my callousness. At my apparent lack of care. It was anything but. The truth was, I cared too much. Which was why it had to be this way.
I wanted to reach out and cup her face, to lean down and kiss her eyelids, trapping the growing moisture behind them. But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
Slowly she shunted her pain away, forcing a look of apathy to her face.
“Fine,” she repeated.
Fine. See, it was fine now. She said so.
Liar. I ignored that voice.
Before I could ask Ailis to come inside, she pushed past me and stabbed at the elevator. The doors opened immediately. She stepped into the elevator and faced me.
This was a sliding doors moment. What I did next might change us forever. I wanted to leap out of my skin in order to stop her. But the ice around me was too hard, too cold, too practiced.
I caught the flash of pain in her eyes before the doors shut, cutting her off to me.
62
____________
Danny
Days later and Ailis hadn’t returned any of my text messages or calls.
I blew out a lock of hair from my forehead as yet another call of mine went through to her voice message. I hung up without leaving her a message.
She was getting me back for London. And it was working. I felt restless. Itching to write more music but unable to do it without her here. I just kept wondering what she was doing. How she was feeling. And, now that’d I’d stupidly given her permission to see other men, who she was with. Was she with another guy? Was he touching her? Holding her? Making her promises that I couldn’t?
I found myself stalking through the streets of Dublin, blocks from her apartment. Then realising what I was doing and turning around and forcing myself back to my apartment.
Fuck me.
What was happening to me?
I was a twisted up, grumpy mess when college started back up. I turned up to the lecture hall early for my Advanced Performance class. Early. Just so I could be there when she walked in.
I straightened up in my chair when Ailis appeared at the doorway. She didn’t even glance at me as she strode past me and up to the seats at the back of the lecture hall. I sat there like a fool waiting for her to acknowledge me, to say hello like every other student was doing.
But she didn’t.
I kept glancing up to where she sat, alone. Pencildick wasn’t sitting next to her for once. I tried not to feel satisfied at this development. I failed. Did they have a falling out, perhaps?
The whole lecture she didn’t look back at me once. Not fucking once.
By the end of the lesson I was practically growling at everyone. I was ready to strangle her. To push her up against a wall and fuck her hard until she screamed.
“Ms Kavanagh,” I called out over the din of the students packing up. “Can I see you for a moment after class, please?”
Ailis paused partway down the stairs. For the first time all fucking morning, she looked at me. I almost wished she hadn’t. Her eyes looked dead as she gave me a cold stare.
“Sorry. I have somewhere to be.” She jogged down the rest of the stairs and sped to the exit.
I snapped out of my shock over her flat-out refusal and practically ran after her. I reached her just before she got to the door of the lecture hall and grabbed her elbow, forcing her to spin and look at me. I didn’t care that we were creating a bottleneck at the exit. I didn’t care that the rest of the students were staring at us.
; “Just one minute, Ms Kavanagh,” I hissed.
She pulled her arm out of my grasp, a warning look on her face. Don’t make a scene, Danny.
“Like I said,” she said, her voice even, making me even more infuriated, “I don’t have time for you.”
“When would you have time for me?” I asked through gritted teeth like a needy lover.
She gave me a shrug. “Maybe never,” she said under her breath. Then slipped out the door before I could stop her.
I was left standing like a fool, staring at the door she’d disappeared through as the other students sidestepped around me, giving me strange looks.
Ailis avoided me for the rest of the day, too. Even as I stalked through the college grounds, trailing after her like a fucking weirdo stalker, waiting for a moment that I could get her alone.
But she made sure she was never alone. And I never got the chance.
That evening, as I paced my cold apartment, alone, I typed out a text message.
Me: You’re mad at me. I get it.
Before I sent it, I added:
I’m sorry.
I didn’t actually expect a response. I just wanted to reach out to her. Because messaging her made me feel…closer to her. Closer than I’d been all day to her even though we’d been in the same room. How pathetic.
I was surprised when my phone actually beeped with a message back.
Ailis: I’m not mad. I just need…space.
Space? Space to convince yourself that I’m not worth it? Space to fuck other men? Space to find someone better?
I didn’t want to give her space.
Me: How do I make it better?
Ailis: There’s nothing you can do.
Like hell there wasn’t.
