Landon & Shay - Part Two: (The L&S Duet Book 2)

by Brittainy Cherry

  “Really?” he asked, his brows lowered. “You meant none of it?”

  “Not a word.”

  “Even the part where you said you hated me?”

  I snickered a little and rubbed my hand against my neck. “Of course, I don’t hate you, Landon. I reserve my hatred for people I actually know.”

  A flash of despair past through his eyes as he nodded slowly. “That makes sense. Okay, well. Maybe we’ll cross paths and can exchange a few easy words.”

  “Yes, of course. If we just so happen to cross paths, we’ll do exactly that.”

  He blinked a few times as if trying to push away the moment of sadness in his stare. “Sounds good. And Shay? Thank you for what you’re doing for Karla. She needs someone in her life that believes in her. Thank you for helping her. You’re good for her.”

  “She’s a good kid. She’s just a little broken, but she’ll find her way.”

  He gently laughed and brushed his hand against the back of his neck. “We’re all a little broken and trying to find our way, I suppose.”

  I wanted to smile at him, but he still looked a little sad. Nothing like he appeared in the magazines.

  “She adores you,” I commented, wanting to give him an olive branch. “She really looks up to you. When you called, she lit up, and it was the first time I actually heard her laugh.”

  “Like you said, she’s a good kid. She’s a great kid who was dealt a shitty hand at life. I’m just trying my best to remind her that this world has a place for her and that she belongs here. I know her, though. I know how her thoughts can get very heavy and dark. I worry about her every single day.”

  “Well, if there is anyone who can help her out of the darkness, it’s a man who found his way out of his own.”

  “You think I found my way out of the dark?” he asked with a low, smoky tone. His words shot straight through my chest.

  Of course, he’d found his way out of the darkness. For years I’d watched his light and happiness unfold against my computer screen.

  “Are you ready, Uncle Landon?” Karla asked as she emerged from her bedroom. She came right before I could respond to Landon’s comment, which was a good thing.

  I hadn’t a clue what I would’ve even said in reply.

  The two both said goodbye to me as we walked to our cars to leave. As they drove away, I took a few seconds to sit in my car as the engine roared. I took those few seconds to remind myself to breathe.

  21

  Landon

  “So, you think she’s pretty amazing, huh?” I asked Karla as we sat eating a steak dinner together at one of the most expensive restaurants in Chicago. I called the day before to have the whole place to ourselves. Whenever I took Karla on her dates, I always made sure the restaurant was unoccupied with people, because once she mentioned how self-conscious she was with the fact that people stared at her as if she were a monster.

  I hated people and their goddamn judgmental stares. Sometimes, I’d even heard them make verbal gasps. Other times, children would react out loud to Karla’s scars. “What’s wrong with her face, Mama? She looks scary.”

  I hated those comments more than words, especially since I knew how words could seep into a person’s soul and embed themselves into their entire existence.

  I’d lived that life before.

  I still lived that life on certain occasions. I didn’t want that for Karla. I knew the struggle of demons at such a young age—I wouldn’t wish that hardness on anyone, let alone Karla.

  She was such a happy girl before the accident. You couldn’t find a time when Karla wasn’t dancing around and singing, much like her little sister Lorelai. There was a light in her that I thought could’ve never been demolished, but after the car crash and losing her mother, Karla’s light had almost completely disappeared.

  It wasn’t completely gone, though, which made me happy.

  I still saw a small twinkle in her eyes as she talked about her stories and Shay. I wasn’t surprised by that at all. Shay was a spark of light in my dark world, too.

  “She’s more than amazing, Uncle Landon. She’s just so…cool!” Karla sighed, speaking about Shay. “She writes better than anyone I’d ever read before. And no offense, but her screenplays are better than any movie you’ve ever been in. Like way better.”

  I chuckled. “No need to bruise my ego.”

  “It’s not your fault that you’re in some mediocre movies sometimes, Uncle Landon. Your acting is always great, but the words you say sometimes are trash,” she said matter-of-factly as she cut into her steak.

  I couldn’t help but smirk at the comment. “I can’t argue with that.”

  “If I can be half the screenwriter that Shay is, I’d be happy. You don’t understand—she’s the best.”

  I could’ve sat and listened to Karla go on and on about the greatness that was Shay Gable, and I would’ve never grown tired of it. I was certain every word she spoke about Shay was true, too. It all matched up with the girl I used to know.

  But, my dinner dates with Karla weren’t for anyone other than the two of us. It was a chance to me to check in on her body, mind, and spirit.

  “Enough about Shay,” I said, stuffing a forkful of Brussels sprouts into my mouth. “Let’s talk about you.”

  Karla grew more somber and her smile faded away. “Do we have to?”

  “You know the rules, Karla. I buy you an overpriced steak, and you let me into that beautiful head of yours.”

  She shifted around in her seat. “I’m okay. My therapist is really nosy, though.”

  “Or she’s just trying to help you.”

  “She can’t get me a new face, so I doubt she can help me much.”

  I frowned, knowing that her scars were a big issue with her confidence. I couldn’t even fault her for being uncomfortable with them, because I had my scars, too, that I spent my childhood hiding. Then, I went ahead and had them covered with tattoos up and down my arms.

  “Your face is perfect.”

  “Tell that to everyone at school,” she huffed. “People fucking suck.”

  I would’ve scolded her for swearing, but I wasn’t her father, I was the cool uncle. Besides, she was right. People did fucking suck.

  “Have you thought about transferring schools like your dad mentioned?” She’d been having her fair share of bullying going on at her school. She even went through a large amount of time when she was skipping school, but once Greyson found out, he made sure to have Eleanor walk Karla directly to her classroom in the mornings.

  “No way.” She shook her head. “That would just be a new set of assholes for me to meet. At least I know the jerks at my school. I know what lame comments they’ll throw my way, which makes it okay. They aren’t very clever, so they can’t hurt me too much.”

  I frowned, picking up on the fact that they hurt her still.

  “Besides, Brian started talking to me again,” she said, a slight curve to her lips. “I mean, he doesn’t say much in front of other people, but when we are alone, he checks in on me.”

  “Why doesn’t he say anything to you in front of people?”

  “Because, he can’t risk his popularity in front of our friends.” She paused and frowned. “I mean his friends.”

  They used to be her friends, until they turned cold on her after the accident.

  Also, fuck Brian for being a little shit and only being Karla’s friend in hiding. She deserved more than that. She deserved the fucking world, but instead she was left dealing with high school and bullies, which annoyed me to no end because people fucking sucked.

  “Don’t let anyone make you into their secret, Karla. If he can’t be your friend in public, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

  She shrugged. “He’s the only friend I got. I don’t really have a say in what I get when I look like this.”

  “You definitely have a say in that. Plus, he’s not your only friend. I’m your friend.”

  She rolled her eyes. “No offense, Uncle Lando
n, but having a forty-year-old friend isn’t really what I’m looking for.”

  “Forty? I’m not forty.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Then why do you look so old?”

  Leave it to a fourteen-year-old to keep you humble. “Do you want to do three good things?” I asked, speaking of the exercise I’d learned from my own therapist. I’d passed it on to Karla, because I wanted her to remember that even on the worst days, there were at least three good things that happened.

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Do I have to do it in order to get dessert?”

  I gave her a knowing smile. Damn right she had to do it in order to receive dessert.

  She sighed and combed her fingers through the hair hanging in front of her face. “Fine. One, I got to work with Shay. Two, I got to see you. Three, Brian smiled at me in the hallway.”

  Fuck Brian and fuck his smiles.

  I didn’t say that, though. I could tell Karla’s little naïve heart was more interested in that boy than she should’ve been, and if I said anything, it might’ve made her close me out a bit on her life. I needed her to remain open, because I knew what it felt like to close out the world.

  Also, me mentally cussing out a fourteen-year-old kid probably wasn’t the most grown-up thing to do. But what could I say? I loved Karla too much, and anyone who disrespected her heart would’ve had to deal with me.

  “And three memories?” I asked.

  She groaned, but she nodded. “Mom’s smile, the way she’d dance so badly as Dad put on the Mariah Carey Christmas album, and the way she cried tears from laughing while we watched YouTube videos of hamsters eating burritos.”

  Three great choices.

  I always had Karla name three memories she held of her mother, Nicole, in order to not forget about the good times. I’d recently began doing the same with her about my uncle, Lance. I’d never did it before, and it was oddly healing speaking about the good memories instead of focusing on the fact that our loved ones were no longer around.

  “Oh!” She beamed, shooting her stare up to me. “Can I tell you the idea that Shay gave me for my story?”

  The way she lit up made me light up, too. “Of course. Tell me everything.”

  She began going on and on about the script, and I saw the happiness she’d been receiving from working with Shay. Shay was giving Karla reasons to smile, and the next time I saw her, I was more than prepared to thank her. Shay had a natural way of making individual’s lives better. I was thankful she was there for Karla in the middle of her storm.

  “How is she doing?” Greyson asked after I dropped Karla off at his house. He was running around with Lorelai in the backyard when we pulled up, acting like the old, fun-loving Greyson I always knew.

  Currently, we were sitting in his office, sipping on a glass of the finest whiskey as he debriefed me on Karla’s current headspace.

  “She’s good. She’s still working through a lot, but she’ll get there, Grey. I know you worry about her, but she’s okay.”

  He grimaced. “She still holds me at a distance. I know I deserve it after everything I put her through, but she’s closed-off with me to certain levels. I’m thankful for you checking in on her. She needs a safe haven.”

  “She’s just processing a lot, Grey. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” I knew he would be regardless of what I said. “Plus, I’m always here for you and the girls. You’re my family, and I’d do anything for you. Always. But, please know that you’re her real safe haven. I’m just a temporary shelter until she finds her way home, and she will, Grey. I promise. Just keep knocking on that door of hers. She’ll let you back in soon enough.”

  He leaned back in his chair and swirled the whiskey in his glass. “The other day, the girls and I were watching a movie. I made a stupid Dad joke, and Karla smirked at it for a split second.”

  “See?! That’s progress. Just keep being the dorky, unfunny human that I know you to be and you’ll be back in her good graces sooner than later!”

  “Thanks for everything, Landon. You’ve always been there for me through thick and thin, and that means the world to me.”

  “That’s what best friends are for. How are things going with Eleanor?” I asked. His face turned a deeper shade of red and he downed his drink. “Things are good.”

  “Like, good-good or good-good?”

  “Good-good, I think, but I’m taking it slow. I have to, otherwise I might ruin whatever shot we have. One day at a time.”

  “I’m happy for you, Grey. You deserve to be happy.”

  “I could say the same about you. How are things with Shay?”

  I laughed. “What things with Shay? After the whiskey party, we hadn’t spoken a word until today, when I came to get Karla. It was as awkward and uncomfortable as you could’ve imagined.”

  “Well, you did stalk her and show up to her place in the pouring rain like a psychopath.”

  I groaned. “Do you have to remind me of my stupid mistakes?”

  “Yup. It comes with the best friend territory. I get to remind you of stupid shit.”

  I would’ve cussed him out if I wasn’t so happy that he was getting back to his old self and being playful. “Whatever. All I know is that I messed things up with Shay, and I need to let it go.”

  “Do you want to let it go?”

  I didn’t answer him.

  He leaned forward, clasped his hands together, and rested them against his desk as he looked my way. “Eleanor said she thinks Shay’s really interested in reconnecting with you, but she’s too afraid to let those walls down.”

  “Yeah. I don’t even think I deserve to get those walls taken down honestly.”

  “She’s just processing a lot, Landon. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he mocked tongue-in-cheek as he gave me the same words I’d given him earlier. “Just keep knocking on her door. She’ll come around and let you in soon enough.”

  Maybe that was true for his and Karla’s relationship, but it wasn’t the same for Shay and me. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she never let me in again. Truth was, I didn’t deserve to be back in her life. Not when I was the one who walked away in the first place.

  This wasn’t some kind of fairy tale storybook. I wasn’t Shay’s Prince Charming, and our story probably wouldn’t end with a happily ever after.

  But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try to win her over again, even if that meant simply becoming her friend.

  “She’s working at a bakery style coffee shop called Ava’s,” Greyson mentioned. “But you didn’t hear that from me. Just say Raine told you.”

  Duly noted.

  22

  Shay

  There were three things in life I knew to be absolutely true:

  One could never eat too many croissants.

  Rainy days were meant for oversized sweaters and oversized books.

  Landon liked his coffee with one sugar and two creamers.

  I only knew the last fact because he stood right there at the counter of Ava’s, ordering his coffee with a croissant on the side. “Two creams, one sugar.”

  “I think it’s funny that you work in a place with coffee, even though you said you hated the stuff the other day,” he commented. “Though, it kind of makes sense, seeing how you work around the stuff all day.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, feeling flustered as he stood in front of me, wearing a perfectly fitted peacoat and black jeans.

  “I’m crossing paths with you.” He said all this with the goofiest smile, and I wanted to smack the smile from his face, but then again, Landon looked good with a smile.

  No, screw that smile.

  “Who told you I worked here?”

  “Greyson might’ve let it slip by mistake.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out cash to pay for his coffee. “I figured maybe we could have an easy talk during your break.”

  “I don’t get a break for an hour.”

  “That’s fine by me. I’ll wait.”

  “Don’t b
other. I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “But you said if you saw me again, we’d have an easy conversation.”

  “I said if we crossed paths, which means in an organic fashion. There is nothing organic about you figuring out where I work and just showing up.”

  “You didn’t make the organic part clear,” he mentioned. “Besides, I’m not big on organic things. Give me the bad stuff, and I’m all over it.” He lifted his coffee cup and nodded my direction. “I’m going to sit in that back corner until you change your mind.”

  “You’re going to be sitting for a while, so make sure to buy something else later on. There’s nothing worse than a person who sits in the coffee shop for hours and hours and only orders a one dollar coffee.”

  “Don’t worry.” He lifted a daily paper from the stack beside him and tucked it under his arm. “I have an endless addiction to coffee.”

  As he spoke, people snapped pictures of him, reminding me once again that to me he was simply Landon, but to the rest of the world he was a star.

  “Do you ever get sick of that?” I asked, nodding toward the individuals holding their cameras out.

  “It’s a gift and a curse. I know I wouldn’t be able to live the life I do without them, but also I wish there was a way I could do what I love and still be anonymous.”

  “Voice acting for the win.”

  “I would’ve made a badass Shrek.” He nodded toward me. “Do you ever get sick of that?”

  “Of what?”

  “Pretending like you don’t want to at least have the conversation we should be having about us?”

  Oh yeah. It’s a gift and a curse.

  “There is no us.”

  “Come on, Chick,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “Just an easy conversation.”

  Butterflies. A swarm of stupid butterflies that didn’t belong anywhere near my stomach. Why did I have butterflies from him calling me Chick?

  “Go away, Landon.”