Second Chance

Home > Romance > Second Chance > Page 7
Second Chance Page 7

by Willow Winters


  My clothes are on the seat of the chair. Just a pair of black leggings and a baggy t-shirt with, "Coffee first!” printed on the front in a swirly font. Lydia takes the hint before I even have to tell her and she falls onto the small bed and stares at the ceiling as I get dressed.

  “So, are you two,” Lydia hesitates to finish, but she does, “like, back together?”

  It’s quiet for a moment as I take in the knowledge that rumors are going around, and to be very honest with myself, I don’t even know what to make of Nathan and me. I’m drowning in my emotions and waiting for him to make the next move. Maybe that’s a mistake.

  “I don’t know what we are,” I tell her as I bend over and towel dry my hair before wrapping it up and sitting it on my head. The large motions cue her to look back at me and she cracks up laughing.

  “You look too ridiculous with that thing on your head to be talking like that.” I can’t find it in me to laugh with her. I want to. I don’t want to feel this anxiety and uncertainty. I’ve only ever had that in my life with Nathan. Only him.

  “Seriously, it can’t be that bad,” Lydia says as she appears to tune into my mood. “You guys got into a fight and broke up on bad terms.”

  I shrug and then take a seat at the vanity. I want to unload everything. It’s like a weight on my chest that won’t get the hell off.

  “Did he cheat on you?” she asks.

  “No,” I answer as I put my elbow on the edge of the chair and then my chin in my palm.

  “Did he hurt you?” she asks and I’m quiet. I almost say no out of instinct, but he did. He made me feel like it was all my fault. Like I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I swallow the lump growing in my throat and let out the breath I’ve been holding.

  “Not physically.” I stare at the ceiling and wait for her to say something, but I’m greeted with silence.

  I lower my head, balancing the stupid towel and then finally reach up to just take it down, running my hands through my damp hair.

  “What did he do?” Lydia asks with a crestfallen expression.

  “He tried to save me,” I tell her, remembering that night and how he was my knight in shining armor. But knights come in times of war and their armor doesn’t survive without scratches, or dents. Without blood.

  Lydia sits up on the bed with a deep sigh. She hunches forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands on her forehead before looking back at me. “I don’t know if you’re being melodramatic or if something insane happened. I’m lost here, Harlow.”

  “He did the right thing. It’s just that the right thing wasn’t good, and it made us …” I can’t finish. It tore us apart. It made us see how foolish we were. It showed how stupid I was and how destructive we were together.

  “But that was back then,” Lydia says. “Ten years ago,” she adds, raising her voice.

  I understand how ridiculous it is. “Yeah, I just haven’t seen him since.”

  “Well, can you put it behind you?” she asks as I stare at the thin carpet on the floor.

  “I think he’d like to pretend it never happened,” I tell her honestly. I can’t explain why it hurts my chest so badly to think about just erasing that night.

  “And you?” she asks in a voice with such compassion I have to raise my gaze to hers.

  “I would do anything to take it back.”

  Chapter 11

  Nathan

  * * *

  St. Gerard is a massive skyscraper, equipped with its own restaurants, office buildings, and five-diamond rooms; they call it a hotel, but it’s practically a resort. You could get lost in here if you wanted to. You could live a happy life and never even step foot outside this building. You could also avoid someone else living here for as long as you had to.

  If that’s what you wanted to do. Judging by the fact that I’m obsessed with knowing Hally’s room is in the east hall of the fourteenth floor, that’s not what I intend to do. Room 14206. There’s no name on the door, but Mark assures me she’s here. She’d better be.

  I haven’t seen her in days. She’s avoiding me again and it kills me. She doesn’t have a choice, and neither do I.

  I clear my throat as I walk past a small crowd of people by a cart set up for bagels and coffee. The rich scent fills my lungs as I walk by, ignoring how a few of the people creep forward, one with her hand out as if she’d like to stop me.

  I pretend I don’t see her or her attempt to initiate a conversation, keeping my strides even and fairly quick. There are no verbal objections and I guess I’m grateful for that.

  A single kiss, and I feel like I’m coming undone. A manufactured one at that. But it felt real. The electricity and tension between us were all too real on my part. If I still know her, if she’s the same girl she was ten years ago, it’s the same for her.

  With each step of my sneakers sinking into the luxurious carpet of the fourteenth floor, I know I’m getting closer and closer to doing something stupid.

  I don’t give a fuck. I want her. I need to have her again. At all costs. But I need to play this right. Hally’s always been emotional and hard to predict, like wildfire, and I don’t know what it is I do to her that sets her off.

  I’ll be careful though, since I know better now. Which is damn good since I’m standing in front of her door.

  My knuckles rap against the door three times. They sound even and controlled, unlike my beating heart.

  As I shove my hand into my pocket, the door swings open. Hally’s unknowing at first, with a curious look on her face and then it falls. She stands in the doorway, her grip tightening on the door.

  “May I come in?” I ask her with feigned politeness. I’m conscious of the fact that people are watching; they’re always watching, which is why we need to talk. Or at least it makes a damn good excuse for me to insist we talk.

  Hally doesn’t answer. She simply breathes out slowly, like it hurts her to let it go and then steps to the side, opening the door wider. Her eyes stay on me, but they’re wide and swirling with a mix of emotions.

  She’s scared. I’ve seen this look before, so many times back in high school. It’s the look she always had before we’d get back together. When she’d hide from me, run away, or push me away, but she’d always come back with that look in her eyes. Her mouth shut as she’d wait for me to tell her I was sorry, or that I forgave her, or simply that I wanted her back.

  My blood courses with heat and excitement and so much more. She’s putty to me at this moment, waiting for me to make the decision. It was always so easy to go after her again, and it’s just the same now.

  With every step I take inside, Hally takes a step back until her knees hit the bed. “Hally,” I say her name as I turn around slightly and gently push the door so it’s partially closed, just enough for privacy, but not enough to make anyone question what’s going on inside her dressing room.

  “Nathan,” Hally whispers my name and it comes out ragged but filled with desire.

  “I think we should talk,” I say evenly and then run my hand through my hair. “Can I sit?” I ask her, again just to be polite and cordial, but also to keep her on her toes, to mess with her and prolong this tension. I love it when she’s like this.

  Maybe that’s why it was so easy to push her. The make-up sex and seeing just how much she wanted me was something I could never resist. Maybe it’s a vice of mine, fighting with Hally just to get closer to her. Everyone wants to be desired.

  She nods her head, swallowing thickly and then glancing at the door before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Nathan, I want you to know,” she starts to speak before I can sit and it’s unexpected.

  She sucks in a breath and then clears her throat before looking up at me. “I understand that I’m invading your territory a bit,” she says her words carefully, squaring her shoulders and being as professional as possible. The confidence and even arrogance that I had when she first opened the door threatens to leave me, but I hold on to the way she felt as she squirmed underne
ath me on set. She wants me, I know that much and it’s all I need. She can pretend this is something else if she wants to. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  I grip the top of the chair at the vanity as I take a seat, giving her the floor to get whatever it is that’s on her mind off her chest.

  “I was going to come see you sooner. I just …”

  “Couldn’t find me?” I ask her sarcastically.

  “I didn’t search you out or even know you were here when I was asked if I wanted the part. I didn’t do this on purpose, I promise you.”

  “You couldn’t have; no one knew I’d signed on,” I tell her to let her know I believe her and ease the strained tension.

  “I’m not here to threaten you or say anything at all, or bring up anything that happened,” she says and every word seems to come out faster, rushed and stealing her breath. It makes my blood run cold. If Hally wanted to hurt me, she could have long ago. If she wanted to threaten me or hold something over my head, or even blackmail me, she would have already.

  I never thought she would, but I have to admit more than a few times, the thought came to mind. It was fleeting, but it was there. Part of me even wanted it.

  “You’re a really good actress,” I tell her, my voice low in my throat. She questions the intention of my words. As if I’m questioning the authenticity of what she’s saying. Making her defensive and on edge as she licks her lips and crosses her arms.

  I shouldn’t push her like this. I shouldn’t instigate a fight. I know that I shouldn’t, but the thought of her pushing me right back is making me hard as steel.

  “Thank you,” Hally responds, although her words hold an edge to them and her eyes narrow slightly. She purses her lips and then her tongue slips out, wetting her bottom lip and forcing me to remember how she tasted, how good it felt to kiss her again.

  I sit back in my seat and tilt my head as I speak to her, ignoring her confession and the tension regarding our past. “I mean it.” I rest my elbow on the vanity and place my chin in my hand. “I wasn’t expecting you to fall into the role so easily.”

  She huffs the smallest of laughs, but it’s genuine and it brings a lightness to the air and a blush to her cheeks. She shrugs off the compliment, so like herself, but I know it affected her just by the relaxed position she takes when her eyes finally reach mine again. Her movements are slow as she leans back on the bed, the soft creaking filling the room.

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she says easily and flirtatiously.

  A noise from behind me forces me to turn around. I left the damn door open, mostly for Hally’s sake but also to keep me from being stupid. Although that’s exactly what this is.

  Nancy Welsh knocks on the open door, peeking in hesitantly as she does. I’d recognize her anywhere with her salt and pepper hair that looks like she dyed it to be that way. She’s well known in the industry and has a solid reputation. She looks into the room, glancing between the two of us from behind her thin-framed glasses. “I just wanted a word if you have the time?” she asks Hally.

  “Of course,” Hally answers and practically jumps from the bed. Her hands are folded in front of her as though she’s a child who’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Half of me is pissed by it, but the other half of me loves it and begs me to make myself even more comfortable in her room.

  “Actually, I think tomorrow would be better?” Nancy says and looks pointedly at me. Hally isn’t catching on in the least. Her brow furrows and she shakes her head.

  “Now is fine,” she says and a rough chuckle vibrates up my chest, catching the attention of both women.

  I clear my throat and slide my hands across my worn jeans as I lean forward and ask Nancy, “Could I just have a few minutes?”

  She gives me a tight smile and looks back at Hally, waiting for her to catch on, but she doesn’t. Hally never was the best at reading the subtle intentions of others, which is ironic, considering how well she’s able to portray them herself. “You can have all night,” she says easily and then waves goodbye, ignoring the gasp of a plea from Hally.

  Nancy closes the door behind her and leaves the two of us alone, with Hally left standing awkwardly and staring at the closed door.

  “She thinks we’re going to fuck,” I tell her.

  That gets her eyes on me with her mouth opened in disbelief. “She knows I’m not like that,” Hally answers and I never would have thought those words could make me so hard.

  “Not like what?” I ask her, although I already know. Mark provided me with a list of her former boy toys. It’s a short list and I’m grateful for that. More importantly, she’s currently single and “too busy working her ass off” to date.

  Which is just perfect for me.

  Hally waves off my question, retaking her seat and looking at me and then the closed door before asking, “Are we okay?”

  Her face is etched with genuine concern. I hate it.

  “Yeah, we’re okay,” I tell her, crossing my arms and leaning back. She’s wounded and scared and I’d bet anything she’d fall into my arms if I let her. And I want her so badly, but maybe I shouldn’t. A small voice whispers to let her be. That I don’t have to do this.

  But I ignore that bastard voice and clear my throat to ask her, “Do you want to practice some lines together?”

  She sees right through me, although she does glance at the stack of papers on her vanity. Her script. It’s fresh and neat. Obviously an updated version since her role has changed.

  “It must be difficult changing roles during filming,” I say as if I’m genuinely interested in helping her.

  “I’ll be fine, I promise,” she says and that look comes back to her eyes. She’s waiting for me to offer more. Hopeful for it, even if she’s scared.

  “We don’t need to practice lines then,” I tell her, holding her gaze and watching it heat.

  “You want to … talk?” she asks.

  “Not really,” I answer her honestly and she immediately looks away, brushing her hair from her face. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. It’s been too long to just assume she’d come back to me so easily. “We could just catch up,” I offer her, lightening the intensity of what I want from her.

  “What about-” she starts to ask with a pained look. “I need to talk about what happened,” she says with tears in her eyes.

  “It’s over with, Hally,” I shake my head, wanting that night to go back to not existing. Just pretend. It’s what I had to do for so long. She can too. It makes living that much easier.

  I silence her and ask her, “Can we just pretend?” I feel like an asshole. Like a coward. Like I don’t fucking deserve my freedom. “Just forget it happened,” I tell her and pray she’ll play along. I can’t make it right; there’s no way to make it better. I wish I could for her. I’d give anything to go back and never tell her to go home in the first place. Then she wouldn’t have done the one thing she knew would piss me off. She wouldn’t have put herself in danger.

  If that night had never happened, if so many little things had just gone differently, our paths would have been so divergent from where we are now. I don’t think I ever would have left her.

  She searches my eyes for something, I don’t know what she’s looking for, but whatever it is, it spurs her to rise up on her tiptoes and plant a small kiss on my lips. Her long lashes flutter open and she says, “I can.” Then she chews on her bottom lip and her fingers comb through her hair as she looks away and I’m not so sure she’s being honest. But what choice do I have?

  “I just don’t know if this is best, Nathan,” she tells me the truth and it guts me. “I don’t know if I can be around you and not …” she doesn’t finish, but I know exactly what she means. It’s a constant reminder just being this close to her.

  I shrug as if it doesn’t shatter everything in me and say, “Just to talk, Hally.” I almost don’t say anything more, but I know she just needs a small push. “I miss you,” I tell her and it’s only then that I re
alize how much truth there is in those words.

  “I miss you, too,” she breathes the words so easily like they were waiting on the tip of her tongue to be confessed. “Okay,” she says but then she chews the inside of her cheek nervously.

  “Okay, what?” I ask her as someone knocks on her door. My blood fills with anxiety. I just need her to say yes.

  “Okay to the talk,” she answers shyly.

  And that’s all I need to rise from my chair and get out of her room before I keep pushing her until I’m taking too much. It’s been too long and the last thing I want to do is make things worse for us. “Monday then,” I tell her without looking back at her. Without touching her or even saying goodbye.

  I open the door to find the girl who came in with Hally, the one named Lydia in the paperwork Mark gave me. I give her a tight smile and keep the door open for her. Her eyes are wide and assessing, but she simply says a polite thank you and doesn’t ask questions. I can see she has them though. Everyone here does.

  It’s only when I close the door behind me that I can breathe.

  It’s only then I even realize what I told her. It’s only Saturday.

  Monday’s too far away.

  Chapter 12

  Harlow

  * * *

  Margo Hawkins is striking. Her blunt bob is angled and severe; paired with her thick-rimmed chic glasses, she looks like a sexy librarian. Or maybe I just think that because of the notebook in her lap as she jots down notes during the interview.

  I wring my fingers around one another nervously. My anxiety is getting the better of me, but I’m trying not to show it. It’s an interview that was really meant for Julie … and yet again, I’ve taken her spot.

  “There are only four weeks to shoot the first season of Night Fire and with the sudden change of roles, you’re demanded to work nearly fourteen hours a day, is that true?” she asks me, peeking up past her glasses and then flashing a gorgeous smile.

 

‹ Prev