The Rocker That Needs Me
Page 47
Chapter 21
Lana
My brain had shut down.
I left the apartment functioning on autopilot. I didn’t remember the ride down in the elevator or Kyle the doorman speaking to me. I had no recollection of hailing the cab that drove me home or walking into my apartment. The faint smell of smoke and booze and sex, that should have told me that at least one of my roommates had returned, was lost on me as I opened the door to my shared room and fell across my bed without bothering to shut the door.
For the longest time, I just lay there on my stomach, not feeling much of anything other than the slight discomfort coming from my back and the PMS cramps that didn’t seem to want to let up. I didn’t think about anything. I couldn’t. My mind was trying to protect my heart and had shut down as a safety mechanism.
The sky slowly lightened outside my window, but still I didn’t notice. Through the open doorway, I heard someone moving around the apartment. From the sound of the heavy footsteps, I could only assume it was Linc. The second pair of heavy footsteps told me he had brought someone home last night.
I blinked, realizing that I had been staring at the same spot for hours. My eyes were dry and hurt. My entire body was one big ache. I sighed and sat up. I think I liked the numbness better.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow in the doorway and turned my head to find Shane standing there. He looked pale, but his eyes were clouded with a mixture of emotions I didn’t want to think about. The man that I had dreamed of being my brother-in-law was giving me a concerned look.
“How are you?” he asked, his voice rough.
I shrugged. “I don’t really know,” I told him honestly. I was waiting for the anger to hit me, the rage and humiliation.
Mostly, I was wondering why I wasn’t crying. The man who was supposed to be my soul-mate, who had whispered that he loved me over and over again as he moved inside of my body, had been in bed with another woman. So why wasn’t I bawling my eyes out?
“Jesse and Layla are over there. They arrived with Emmie about an hour ago.” He took a few steps into my shared room. Big hands thrust into jean pockets, and he let his head fall back on his shoulders as he frowned up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry, sis.”
I flinched. “Please don’t call me that,” I whispered.
“I… Yeah, okay.” We were both quiet for a minute. “Do you want me to go?”
I pushed my tangled hair out of my face before shaking my head. “No, Shane. You can stay.”
He looked relieved and sat down on the bed beside of me. “Want something to eat? Linc is making breakfast.”
“No. I’m not hungry. My stomach is a little upset.” In fact, I was fighting the urge to throw up. Damn shock! I was going to be a mess when it finally faded.
There was a light tapping on the open bedroom door, and I turned to find Harper standing in our shared room. “Hey.” Her voice was gentle, causing my chest to ache just a little more. “How are you?”
I shrugged. “I’m still not sure.”
“Want me to help you with your bandages?” She closed our bedroom door, and I saw that she had a new tube of A&D ointment in her hand. “You probably want some of this on it.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
Shane stood and Harper took his place, his hand grasping and squeezing hers for a moment before stepping away. I watched as something passed between them, but it was over and gone so quickly I couldn’t say what it had been.
Shane gave me a grim smile. “I think I’m going to go grab a bacon sandwich or something.”
When the door shut behind him, I pulled my shirt over my head and Harper started pulling at the tape that held the gauze over my tattooed back. I waited until the bandages were gone before speaking. “Are you in love with him?”
Harper, in the process of opening the new tube of A&D ointment, stopped what she was doing. Her brow furrowed, as if she was really thinking about the answer to my question. After a moment she sighed. “Maybe.”
I just nodded and turned back around so she could rub the ointment across my ink. I flinched a few times as she touched the sensitive, slightly welted skin. The tattoo took up most of my back. It really should have been done in two sittings, but I had wanted it bad and paid extra to get it done in one. Now…now it was just a reminder of a huge mistake.
“I never should have gotten involved with him again,” I whispered. “I knew that it would only end in heartache, and maybe that was why I was holding off on telling him I love him. He’s a rocker, something I should have always kept reminding myself of.”
“Ah, sweetie. I know you are hurting right now. But maybe…maybe he didn’t do anything. It could just be a misunderstanding.”
“Maybe…” I agreed, but without much enthusiasm. I had little hope for that possibility.
--
I didn’t leave my room for another hour and a half. By then it was nearly lunch time, but I was still feeling sick. The lingering smells of bacon and other breakfast foods turning my stomach, and I was fighting the urge to vomit more and more with each passing minute.
With the skin on my back still sensitive, I decided against a bra and put on a baggy tee shirt that belonged to Linc. His sleepover friend, who I learned Linc had met at the party he and Dallas had ended up at instead of going clubbing the night before, was still lounging on our sofa when I walked into the living room. Shane and Harper were sitting beside him watching television. The three of them, mostly the two guys, took up almost the entire couch, so I flopped down on the floor between Shane and Harper’s legs.
“Feeling better?” Harper asked, noticing my paleness.
I was breathing through my mouth to keep from gaging. “Not really. I might need a bucket actually.”
“Linc!” Harper yelled.
“What?!” His voice came from down the hall, probably his bedroom.
“We need your hangover bucket!” she told him.
I grimaced. Linc had a hangover almost every Sunday morning, but instead of sleeping it off he worked through his sickness. Most of the time that meant carrying around what we had deemed “the hangover bucket,” which he threw up in when he had to, and then he went on about his day. Dallas swore she could still smell the contents even after it was bleached Monday mornings. I hoped that wasn’t the case today.
Linc appeared with the little white waste basket. As he offered it to me, he frowned. “Want me to kick his ass?”
I offered him a small smile. “Nah, but thanks for the offer.”
Lana
My brain had shut down.
I left the apartment functioning on autopilot. I didn’t remember the ride down in the elevator or Kyle the doorman speaking to me. I had no recollection of hailing the cab that drove me home or walking into my apartment. The faint smell of smoke and booze and sex, that should have told me that at least one of my roommates had returned, was lost on me as I opened the door to my shared room and fell across my bed without bothering to shut the door.
For the longest time, I just lay there on my stomach, not feeling much of anything other than the slight discomfort coming from my back and the PMS cramps that didn’t seem to want to let up. I didn’t think about anything. I couldn’t. My mind was trying to protect my heart and had shut down as a safety mechanism.
The sky slowly lightened outside my window, but still I didn’t notice. Through the open doorway, I heard someone moving around the apartment. From the sound of the heavy footsteps, I could only assume it was Linc. The second pair of heavy footsteps told me he had brought someone home last night.
I blinked, realizing that I had been staring at the same spot for hours. My eyes were dry and hurt. My entire body was one big ache. I sighed and sat up. I think I liked the numbness better.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow in the doorway and turned my head to find Shane standing there. He looked pale, but his eyes were clouded with a mixture of emotions I didn’t want to think about. The man that I had dreamed of being my brother-in-law was giving me a concerned look.
“How are you?” he asked, his voice rough.
I shrugged. “I don’t really know,” I told him honestly. I was waiting for the anger to hit me, the rage and humiliation.
Mostly, I was wondering why I wasn’t crying. The man who was supposed to be my soul-mate, who had whispered that he loved me over and over again as he moved inside of my body, had been in bed with another woman. So why wasn’t I bawling my eyes out?
“Jesse and Layla are over there. They arrived with Emmie about an hour ago.” He took a few steps into my shared room. Big hands thrust into jean pockets, and he let his head fall back on his shoulders as he frowned up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry, sis.”
I flinched. “Please don’t call me that,” I whispered.
“I… Yeah, okay.” We were both quiet for a minute. “Do you want me to go?”
I pushed my tangled hair out of my face before shaking my head. “No, Shane. You can stay.”
He looked relieved and sat down on the bed beside of me. “Want something to eat? Linc is making breakfast.”
“No. I’m not hungry. My stomach is a little upset.” In fact, I was fighting the urge to throw up. Damn shock! I was going to be a mess when it finally faded.
There was a light tapping on the open bedroom door, and I turned to find Harper standing in our shared room. “Hey.” Her voice was gentle, causing my chest to ache just a little more. “How are you?”
I shrugged. “I’m still not sure.”
“Want me to help you with your bandages?” She closed our bedroom door, and I saw that she had a new tube of A&D ointment in her hand. “You probably want some of this on it.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
Shane stood and Harper took his place, his hand grasping and squeezing hers for a moment before stepping away. I watched as something passed between them, but it was over and gone so quickly I couldn’t say what it had been.
Shane gave me a grim smile. “I think I’m going to go grab a bacon sandwich or something.”
When the door shut behind him, I pulled my shirt over my head and Harper started pulling at the tape that held the gauze over my tattooed back. I waited until the bandages were gone before speaking. “Are you in love with him?”
Harper, in the process of opening the new tube of A&D ointment, stopped what she was doing. Her brow furrowed, as if she was really thinking about the answer to my question. After a moment she sighed. “Maybe.”
I just nodded and turned back around so she could rub the ointment across my ink. I flinched a few times as she touched the sensitive, slightly welted skin. The tattoo took up most of my back. It really should have been done in two sittings, but I had wanted it bad and paid extra to get it done in one. Now…now it was just a reminder of a huge mistake.
“I never should have gotten involved with him again,” I whispered. “I knew that it would only end in heartache, and maybe that was why I was holding off on telling him I love him. He’s a rocker, something I should have always kept reminding myself of.”
“Ah, sweetie. I know you are hurting right now. But maybe…maybe he didn’t do anything. It could just be a misunderstanding.”
“Maybe…” I agreed, but without much enthusiasm. I had little hope for that possibility.
--
I didn’t leave my room for another hour and a half. By then it was nearly lunch time, but I was still feeling sick. The lingering smells of bacon and other breakfast foods turning my stomach, and I was fighting the urge to vomit more and more with each passing minute.
With the skin on my back still sensitive, I decided against a bra and put on a baggy tee shirt that belonged to Linc. His sleepover friend, who I learned Linc had met at the party he and Dallas had ended up at instead of going clubbing the night before, was still lounging on our sofa when I walked into the living room. Shane and Harper were sitting beside him watching television. The three of them, mostly the two guys, took up almost the entire couch, so I flopped down on the floor between Shane and Harper’s legs.
“Feeling better?” Harper asked, noticing my paleness.
I was breathing through my mouth to keep from gaging. “Not really. I might need a bucket actually.”
“Linc!” Harper yelled.
“What?!” His voice came from down the hall, probably his bedroom.
“We need your hangover bucket!” she told him.
I grimaced. Linc had a hangover almost every Sunday morning, but instead of sleeping it off he worked through his sickness. Most of the time that meant carrying around what we had deemed “the hangover bucket,” which he threw up in when he had to, and then he went on about his day. Dallas swore she could still smell the contents even after it was bleached Monday mornings. I hoped that wasn’t the case today.
Linc appeared with the little white waste basket. As he offered it to me, he frowned. “Want me to kick his ass?”
I offered him a small smile. “Nah, but thanks for the offer.”
