by Jillian Dodd
Tears stream down my face, feeling cold against my flushed cheeks. "You have no idea how deeply that touched me. And it's why I let you come to St. Croix. I wasn't planning to go back to school. I didn't get closure with B. Everything with him--especially how I had to leave--has been so up the air and I didn't want to do that to you. I was going to give you closure, then send you back to school. And that's why I've been so tired all the time. At night, I'm either learning how to defend myself, or I'm flying back to California to mess with him, or I'm having online business meetings in an attempt to take over his company. It's not my friend who was being stalked and almost got kidnapped. It was me." I stop and mutter, "Shit."
Then I stand up and grab my clutch off the bed.
"What are you doing?" Aiden asks.
I pull out a piece of paper and hold it up in front of him. "This is the script I've been working on. In it, instead of truth-vomiting, I eloquently explain everything to you. I couldn't have sex with you until you knew."
I drop the piece of paper on the chaise, wondering why I'm even bothering.
He's not going to forgive me.
I might as well just grab my bags and go.
But he starts reading my script aloud.
"THE SETTING: HOTEL SUITE AFTER WINTER FORMAL.
AIDEN
(Opening a bottle of champagne)
KEATYN
(Lighting all the votive candles he thoughtfully brought)
(They kiss)
(But then she looks nervous)
I need to tell you something.
AIDEN
(Sits on the edge of the bed)
What?
KEATYN
(Stands in front of him)
I've been lying to you. Actually, I've been lying to everyone about something. And I need you to know.
AIDEN
(Looks concerned)
Okay.
KEATYN
I came to Eastbrooke because I was being stalked. My last name isn't Monroe. I'm Keatyn Douglas. And my mom doesn't work in oil and gas. But she is in France. And her name is Abby Johnston.
AIDEN
(Stands up in shock)"
Aiden stares at the script for a few moments then slowly sets it down. I can tell he's thinking; probably trying to figure out the nicest way to tell me to fuck off.
Instead, he stands up, takes two big steps toward me, and brushes a tear off my cheek. "Life hasn't been following your scripts. You told me that once."
"No, it hasn't."
"If it had worked out the way you planned--if you'd followed your script--right now is the point where life would have deviated from it."
"You wouldn't have stood up in shock?"
"No," he says, caressing my face. "I would have said, Baby, I already knew."
"You what?! What do you mean?!"
"I mean I've known for quite a while who you really are."
"How?!"
"That day at the chapel, when you told me about your friend. I don't know. I just felt like you were talking about yourself. So I started googling stuff. The name Keatyn, California, stalker, famous parents. Somehow, eventually, I put in the right mix of words. About ten pages into an image search, I came across a photo of you and your mom. It was from a kids' awards show when you were probably twelve or thirteen."
"You've known this whole time and you let me lie to you?"
"Yeah, Boots, I did."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to be the kind of guy you could trust. It's why I backed off. Why I told Riley about Dawson. I didn't want to see you hurt anymore. It's why I've told you so many times that you can tell me anything. That you could trust me. What I didn't realize before was that I needed to earn that trust. We had to build a strong foundation. I'm really glad you were planning to tell me tonight."
"But when you put your hand up and told me not to follow, I thought we were over, that you hated me."
"I could never hate you. I could tell by the look on Peyton's face that something was really wrong. I held up my hand to let you know that I'd take care of it. That you didn't need to come. I figured it was just some stupid mean girl thing between her and Whitney. I had no idea it would be so . . . involved. Or take so long." He takes my hands and pulls me back to sit on the chaise with him. His face looks similar to the way it did when he walked out. Apparently, this is his concerned look, not his I hate you look. "There's nothing you could tell me that would make me hate you. You need to have faith in us. We're going to survive the kiln."
"I was coming to find you. You made me promise that I always would."
He smiles at me. It's a sweet, loving, blazing smile. One that turns my whole night around.
"You told me that didn't count."
"I lied," I say, teasing him.
"Those reporters took pictures of you. Is the stalker going to find you? Will you have to leave Eastbrooke?"
"I don't know. The dean made everyone delete anything they put out on social media. I told the local reporters that they didn't really have much of a story. That my mom and I have had different last names my whole life. I told them if they signed a non-disclosure agreement that I would give them two stories. One they could use now and one they could use, um, later."
"What do you mean, later?"
"I told them the truth about the stalker. Told them they couldn't use the story until either he was in jail or I was dead."
Aiden shuts his eyes tightly. "Dead?"
"Yes. You might as well know that now. If he gets me and no one can rescue me, or if I can't get away, I'm pretty sure he will kill me."
"What story can they have now?"
"Who Damian's new girlfriend is. We have a lot of work to do before then, though."
"Like what?"
"Rework Peyton's social media. Make people think she's just from California. With her age, they could think she's in college. Vincent--that's the stalker's name--knows Damian and I are friends. We don't want him to put two and two together. That's the other reason I didn't want to go back to Eastbrooke after Thanksgiving break. I didn't want to put any of my friends in danger. Because he's about to blow. And when he does, it's going to be ugly."
"Isn't there something you can do, legally?"
"We have to prove he's stalking me. Threatening me. And, even then, about all you can do is get a restraining order. They said if I went away that he'd forget about me. But he hasn't. You know that nationwide search for the next Abby Johnston?"
"Yeah."
"That's him."
"Wow. He wanted someone to tell him where you were? Is that why you freaked out and told Annie you didn't want to be an actress?"
"Yes. I didn't want him to find me."
"Are you safe here? Now?"
"Yes. Even if word got out. Even if he somehow found out about Eastbrooke and the formal, he wouldn't know I'm here. Everyone thinks we're staying at the hotel where all the parties are.
"We were smart to come here then?"
"Yeah, we were."
"So, can we go back to enjoying our night? Tonight was supposed to be all about us."
"It was an amazing night. Perfect, really."
"Come on. Let's start over," he says with a grin, pulling me out of the room and taking me down the elevator to the lobby.
He lets the door to the elevator shut without getting out, pushes the button for our floor, then pins me in the corner and gives me a steamy kiss.
"I had a great time tonight," he says. "But, I will admit, I've been thinking a lot about what will happen when we get back to our room."
I kiss him deeply and say exactly what my heart feels. "You know the heartbreakingly beautiful love?"
"Yeah?"
"I thought it happened tonight."
"The heartbreaking part is never going to happen, Boots." He wags the key in my face. "And, just so you know, when we get some privacy, the kisses are gonna be a whole lot hotter."
We barely get in the room before he has me pinned against the
bathroom door, kissing me hard. Running his hands roughly across my body, all the pent up things he's been feeling coming out in his touch. And the freedom I finally feel from his knowing the truth has mixed up inside me to form something practically combustible.
His hands are behind my back, searching for my zipper.
"Side," I manage to say between kisses.
His hands dance around my cleavage, finally coming to rest on the zipper.
A quick zip sends my dress falling to the floor.
I'm doing my best to get him naked as fast as possible.
Unbuttoning his shirt.
Frantically pulling it off.
Unzipping his pants.
Once we're down to just our underwear, he picks me up and carries me to the bed, where he quickly spreads my knees apart and kisses his way down my stomach.
He pulls off my thong as I push off his sliders.
The Titan is ready for action.
I'm tilting my hips toward him, my body begging.
The tip of the Titan is touching the damp, steamy edges of the exact place I want it to go, and I'm waiting for him to move his fingers out of the way and plunge it deep inside me.
Aiden takes a deep breath.
Then stops.
"Boots? Do you want to?"
"Of course I want to."
"I know, but . . ."
"But what?"
He rolls off me. "I just want it to be perfect. The perfect night. When we look back on it, I don't want you to remember crying. I don't want you to remember questioning my feelings or thinking I walked out on you. And after seeing your script for tonight . . ."
"You read ahead?"
"Yeah."
I roll over on my side and run my hand down his chest. "In my script, we did it."
"And it was a perfect moment where we both knew it was right. I want that for you. For us."
"Nothing about us has ever followed a script."
"I don't want it to. And, deep down, I don't think you want it to, either."
"So, what do you wanna do?"
"How about a bath?"
"No sliders?"
He grins. "No sliders."
My eyes follow his naked butt as he goes into the bathroom and turns on the water.
A few minutes later, he brings me out a fluffy robe. I snuggle up to it. "It's warm."
"They have a towel heater."
"Nice."
I follow him into the bathroom and add a bunch of bubbles to the bath.
Once we're in the tub and I'm leaning against his chest, I say, "I'm tired, Aiden."
"I know you are, baby," he says, kissing my shoulder. "Just think. Tomorrow at this time, we'll be back at the loft."
"A day of relaxation before I start to work."
"Do I get to come watch you film?"
"You watched every one of my play practices."
"That's because you're amazing."
"It had to be boring."
"It wasn't."
"I'll let you come if you promise me two things: you won't get jealous and you promise to leave if you get bored."
"Deal," he says, cupping warm water in his hand and pouring it across my chest.
I run my fingers lazily down his arm and notice something.
"Aiden, did you take your wish bracelet off because it didn't look good with your suit?"
He holds up his wrist, chuckles, and shakes his head. "Well, I'll be damned. You were right."
"What do you mean?"
"You told me it'd fall off once I got my wish."
"What did you wish for?"
He pushes my hair off my shoulders and kisses my neck. Then his mouth is against my ear. "I wished that someday you'd trust me enough to tell me the truth."
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 18TH
The story of us.
9:30am
I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Aiden knew I was lying. It all makes sense now, though. His wanting to be my friend. His sneaky ways of getting to know me. I thought it meant he wasn't interested in me, but what it really meant is that he loves me.
I know he loves me.
I was going to say it to him last night. And he knows it, since he read the script.
Just let things settle down a little. Don't plan it. Just tell him when it feels right.
I think about when might be the perfect time.
Then I frown.
"What's the frown for?" Aiden asks.
"Oh, I was just thinking."
"About last night?"
"Yeah."
"And you're disappointed?"
"A little, yeah. I thought it was going to be perfect."
"It was perfect, until Whitney pulled you on stage."
I smile. "You're right. It was."
Aiden rolls onto his side to face me, gently trailing his finger down my thigh. "Maybe instead of writing the script and getting sad when people don't follow along . . ."
"You remember me telling you that at rehearsal?"
"Boots, pretty much everything you've ever said to me is permanently ingrained in my mind. It's all the story of us."
"As opposed to my scripts, which are the story of me?"
"Exactly. What if we write new ones together?"
"Like, collaborate? Hmm. That might be a good idea. I mean, especially since most of my old scripts were already cast."
"Brooklyn?"
"Yeah. There's still a lot there that's unfinished. At least now you understand why I can't see him. Remember Labor Day when I went to his tournament and how upset I was?"
"You told me that he was stupid. Then you said that you were stupid."
"I was. In lots of ways. It was bad enough to watch him sneak into a cabana and get it on with some girl, but what was worse is that Vincent, the stalker, was there. If Brooklyn hadn't done what he did, I wouldn't have left. I would've been a sitting duck. I went with no security and didn't tell anyone I was going. I really didn't think Vincent would fly across the country on the off chance I'd be there. It was a big blow, both to my confidence and my heart."
I start to say something else, but Aiden kisses me hard.
"What was that for?"
"I don't need to hear any more. I get it."
"What do you get?"
"I need to teach you how to live life unscripted, because we're going to be better than anything you ever imagined." He lets his comment hang there for a moment, then says, "So, what are you going to do about the stalker, now? Will you be able to go back to Eastbrooke?"
"Definitely not. That's why I lied on stage. So everyone would hate me and, hopefully, forget about me over break. I want all my friends at Eastbrooke to stay safe."
"Do you think he would go there?"
"Yes, I do. He went to Oregon where Cush--he's the guy I lost my virginity to--moved. He visited his school and asked if they had any new students. Any new girls, specifically. He even went to Cush's house and knocked on his door. Thankfully, Cush didn't know anything. So, even though it was hard to just leave my friends without telling them what happened, I know it was in their best interests. And that's part of why I didn't want to tell you the truth. I didn't want you to be in danger. After B won the tournament, a photo was delivered to him. One photoshopped to show him being shot, his brains blown out of the back of his head. It was awful. Vincent sent a similar one of Tommy to my mom."
Aiden studies my face then runs his hand down the side of it. "You're amazing, you know that? I knew who you were, and surmised that you were the one who was being stalked, but I didn't imagine it to be this bad. How have you been handling it all?"
"My acting skills have come in handy. But those times in the chapel were when I couldn't hide it. I couldn't act. Not with you."
"After that girl was killed, Riley said you told him that you were being stalked. Something about a guy in Miami."
"That was Vincent, too. He showed up at the club because he heard Damian was doing a surprise performance. He made me dance with hi
m. He'd gotten a tattoo just like mine, only on his wrist. When we were dancing, he rubbed his tattoo on mine. Said it was like our tattoos were making love. It was horrible. He was going to make me leave with him. Said he had a gun and would shoot Damian if I didn't go quietly."
"Were you going to go with him?"
"Probably. I was running my hands all over him, pretending like I was into dancing with him, but I was really frisking him. I had checked everywhere but his ankles when he rubbed the tattoo against me. I couldn't pretend anymore. I'm sure it was my horrified look that made Riley knock him down. When I told Dallas that I was afraid he had a gun, he panicked because of his situation."
"His situation?"
"Yeah. His dad is a senator and has received threats against his family. The story in his home state is that Dallas was arrested for drugs then sent to military school. Instead, he came to Eastbrooke. Apparently, Eastbrooke's campus is very secure."
"So, if you're supposed to be in hiding, how are you going to be in the movie?"
"What did I tell you about the role?"
"That you got a really small part in a really big movie."
"It's the third Trinity movie, Retribution. I play Trinity's daughter, who gets kidnapped."
Aiden's eyes get big.
"I know, right? It's crazy if you think about it. I was going to have to leave Eastbrooke in March to shoot the action scenes. They got the cast to sign non-disclosure agreements so that word wouldn't leak out about me being in the movie until it was officially announced. Although, lately, things have not been going according to plan."
"Tell me about your plan. I want to help."
"No. You can't help."
"I want to."
"That's part of why I didn't want you to know, Aiden. I'm very serious about this. You have to promise me, that no matter what, you won't get involved."
"I can't promise that."
"Then I can't see you anymore." I turn away from him, my eyes quickly filling with tears. We made it through all of this. All the lies. But this is a deal breaker.
"Keatyn," he says, trying to turn my face toward him.
I hold my chin firm, then get up. "I'm sorry. I have to go."
He grabs ahold of my arms and looks deep into my eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"
"I told you everything."
"No, you haven't."
"I may look fine on the surface, Aiden, but there's only so much I can take." I pull out of his arms and start shoving stuff into my bag.
