by Marian Tee
~~~
Leaving the sounds of adulation behind him without a backward glance, Staffan nodded his thanks at Bob as the other man opened the door for him. His tour was finally over, giving him the long-anticipated opportunity to go after Saffi.
Cold sweat bathed Staffan at the thought. Would she still take him back? The days that had separated them had been the severest agony, with every idle second spent torturing himself with thoughts of Saffi falling in love with the first nice guy she met back in university. Those guys, with their fucking PhDs, would no doubt treat her like the princess she was. And she would fall in love with one of them, how could she not when she only had his cruel and heartless ways to compare to?
His heart flinched inside him at the thought of Saffi even holding another man’s hands. God.If just the thought of Saffi in another man’s company hurt, how much worse had it been for Saffi, with all those times he had forced her away?
Staffan’s phone rang, Carson’s name flashing on the screen. The other man had felt responsible for what happened between Staffan and Saffi even though Staffan knew it was his own fault all along. No one had twisted his arm to act like a bastard with Saffi. That had been him and only him all along.
“Hey.” Alan felt even more awkward these days whenever he had to speak with Staffan. He could see how staying apart from Saffi had taken its toll on the once invincible-looking rockstar. This wasn’t like how he had been when the Cougar had left. Then Staffan had simply been in a violent rage every day. But now…Staffan only came alive in front of his fans and after that, he simply lived for any news he could get of Saffi.
The first time he had talked to Staffan, after a short uncomfortable phone call with Saffi, telling the other man that Saffi had been treated in the hospital for two broken ribs---Alan could still remember the way Staffan’s eyes had burned bright at the news, as if Alan’s words had given him permission to…breathe.
“Do you have news of Saffi?” Staffan asked, his chest tightening in fear and anticipation of whatever Carson was about to say.
“Uhh, yes. You see, lately she hasn’t been going to classes---” He stopped, feeling like he had somehow twisted a knife in Staffan so Alan backtracked quickly, saying, “Anyway, I have it in good authority that Saffi will be in uni tomorrow for another meeting with the first-year student she’s mentoring.”
Saffi hadn’t been attending her classes---because of him. It was yet another sin laid on his soul. Could he ever fucking make it up to her? Staffan vividly remembered how she excitedly posted photos of one fish after another in her Instagram account, and each fucking fish didn’t have just a name – she even knew its family history, practically able to trace its genealogy to three generations back. If that didn’t spell passion for what she was doing, nothing else would.
And Staffan had been the one to take it all away from her.
He forced his attention back to Carson, who was now telling him about a potential ally in a girl named Mary. “Thank you for the information, Carson. It’s extremely helpful.” The college Saffi attended wasn’t just exclusive, but it was also famously tight-lipped, with even his most expert detectives unable to extract any kind of information about Saffi’s academic schedule.
“So that’s it then.” Alan cleared his throat. “I’m really sorry about what happened---”
“It’s not your fault. I was the one who fucked up.”
Alan said heavily, “Good luck.”
“Thank you.”
After the call, Staffan reached for his iPad and checked her Facebook page again, out of habit and out of desperation. But this time what he saw made him cold with fear.
No.
He clicked the refresh icon again, hoping it was a glitch. But it wasn’t. He checked her other accounts and they were the same.
Deactivated.
It was like Saffi cutting him completely from her life forever. The iPad fell to the floor with a heavy thud as Staffan became numb with terror, realizing that this was how the rest of his life would feel if he didn’t have her back.
Saffi. I’m so goddamn sorry, Saffi.
Chapter Thirteen
@YannaEverleigh, Twitter:
@staffan_aehrenthal is in luuuuuuuuuurv.
150,000 retweets
@ConstantijinKastein, Twitter:
@YannaEverleigh I will try not to let him kill you, schat.
@staffan_aehrenthal, Twitter:
@YannaEverleigh @ConstantijinKastein Too late.
“Are you excited about tonight’s fundraiser?” Mary asked her mentor and she put the last of her books back inside her bag. Today’s brainstorming session had proceeded much more smoothly than the last one, although she was more relieved for Saffi’s sake than hers. She had hated seeing the other girl so despondent. Thankfully, Saffi appeared a lot better now even though she was still painfully thin.
“Yup.” Saffi uttered the lie without even blinking. She even managed a grin, knowing how the younger girl worried about her. Everyone was worrying about her. She hated herself for it, but somehow she couldn’t do anything about it either.
When she realized Mary already had all her books cleared out, Staffi stood up quickly and froze right after, the world spinning around her. God. She felt so weak these days.
Mary saw Saffi actually sway as she got to her feet. “Are you okay?”
Saffi made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Don’t mind me. You know how clumsy I am. I just lost my balance for a sec.”
Mary stood by the door, trying not to be so obvious with the way she gave Saffi a closer look while the other girl began putting back her own books in her satchel-styled bag. Sadness usually made people look ugly, but somehow it just enhanced Saffi’s beauty, making her appear frail and ethereal with the way her big blue eyes now seemed so much bigger and her cheeks more defined. Was Saffi aware of how she was driving every guy in school crazy crushing after her? In fact, the more Saffi ignored them, the more the guys seemed to want her.
After slinging the strap of her bag over one shoulder, Saffi caught Mary staring. “What is it?” she asked, startled. “Do I have dirt on my face?”
Mmm…probably not, Mary thought. Saffi had always appeared oblivious to her looks, sometimes acting as if she was the very opposite of attractive. But these days she wasn’t just oblivious. These days, Saffi actually looked like she couldn’t believe any guy could want her, which of course made every guy want to be the one to kiss her into realizing how beautiful and sexy she was.
Mary shook her head, realizing that Saffi was still waiting for an answer. “I really can’t thank you enough for inviting me,” she said.
Saffi grinned, and this time it was genuine. “I know I’m the one up for the nerdy award, but I’m pretty sure you’re even more excited I am because of a certain someone.”
Mary’s eyes widened. “W-what are you saying?”
Saffi groaned. “Hey! I didn’t mean to make you feel nervous! I’m sorry.”
“I c-can’t b-believe y-you k-know a-about it.” Mary’s stammering worsened when she realized that Saffi did know about her secret.
Saffi bit her lip hard, knowing it wouldn’t do the other girl any good to let her find out how horrible she was at keeping her secret. With the way Mary’s gaze constantly followed Professor Richard Byron whenever the two of them were in the same room, everyone in uni knew about the younger girl’s not-so-secret crush.
“Any guy you’re crushing on should be flattered,” Saffi finally said, meaning it. “And if he’s not then he’s an idiot.”
Mary blushed. “That’s nice of you to say, but I’m not you.”
Saffi opened the door, gestured for Mary to precede her and switched the lights off before locking the door. She and Mary were pretty lucky that Professor Matthews had allowed them to use the classroom for their session.
Outside, the two of them were immediately caught by a whirlwind of action, with students literally running and shoving their way past them.
“
What on earth is happening?” Saffi asked as she found herself twirling almost 360 degrees back to where she started as countless screaming girls stampeded past them. The crowd’s excitement was contagious and Saffi couldn’t help grinning as she and Mary joined the chaos and allowed the tidal wave of people to sweep them away.
It almost felt as thrilling as being in a concert of…
No. She was not going to think about it. This was as thrilling as…as a Celsius concert.
Saffi and Mary glanced at each other---and they simultaneously broke into giggles. “I almost feel cool because I’m a part of…of whatever this is,” Mary admitted with a wide smile.
“You are cool,” Saffi said then added, “But just imagine if this turns out to be a simple earthquake drill! Would that still make you feel cool?” Mary was still laughing as they finally reached the main lobby of the building. As the crowd took them closer and closer to the main doors, Saffi realized that the girls around her were chanting something repeatedly.
Mary’s eyes widened, her head snapping towards Saffi in shock as both of them realized what the deafening screams were all about. Mary saw Saffi’s face turn white, and she cried out in alarm. “Are you all right?”
Saffi froze at the foot of the steps, causing the other students behind her to lose their balance. They cursed, shoved, and threw dirty looks at her but Saffi couldn’t make herself move, unable to believe what she was hearing the crowd chant.
Staffan. Staffan. Staffan.
Surely, this couldn’t be---but it was. Oh, dear voluptuous velvet-belly shark, it really was. Once, Saffi had dreamt about this – dreamt of being wooed by the man she loved in front of the entire school. It was the stuff romantic fantasies were made of. But now, it was a total nightmare.
The crowd parted before Saffi like the Nile River. Her stomach churned painfully as her lowered gaze saw the most exquisite pair of shiny men’s leather shoes, and the churning sensation grew worse as the owner of those shoes began walking towards her.
She couldn’t move, think, or even breathe. Was she going to faint in front of him? God, please no, let her not faint. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of realizing how much he still affected her, didn’t want him to know how so easy he could make her his slut with just one---
“Hello, Saffi.” The sighs that went through the crowd as Staffan spoke were beyond audible. It was practically tangible, accompanied as it was with a shared thrill of seeing the object of their long-time sexual affections in person, up close and personal.
Her head shot up, just as one of the girls behind her muttered loudly, “I can’t believe he knows her.”
Staffan was even more gorgeous than she remembered, with his hair beautifully wild, his hazel eyes dazzlingly bright, his chiseled face made even more jaw-droppingly handsome by the way his lips curved into a hesitant smile. He was also impeccably dressed. In fact, throughout the tour, the only time she had seen Staffan dress this fabulously was on stage.
Mr. Rockstar Chic.
He really was that.
But for once, Saffi couldn’t care less about Staffan’s mesmerizing looks. What she really wanted to know was if she had heard him correctly. Had he just called her---
She blurted out, “What did you call me?” Saffi kept her gaze on his lips, fearing to meet his eyes – or anyone else’s for that matter. She was conscious of the way everyone’s – and she meant everyone – gazes had swung toward her as she spoke to Staffan. Their gazes felt mostly like a mixture of shock, curiosity, envy and not a small amount of outrage.
“Saffi.”
She felt even dizzier when she heard Staffan say that one name she hoped he wouldn’t say. Please, God, if you could just grant me one wish, let this be it. Let me not faint---
“Or should I call you Starry Eyed instead?”
God didn’t listen. Or maybe He had His headsets on.
Whatever. It was Saffi’s last thought just before she lost consciousness.
When she opened her eyes, she was lying on the backseat of a car, staring at its leather-upholstered ceiling. Saffi slowly pushed herself up, and as she did she realized that she was on one side of the U-shaped backseat of a limousine. It only meant one thing.
“How do you feel?” His voice was hoarse with worry, his heart still thudding hard against his chest. He knew that the terror of seeing Saffi sliding away like she was dying would remain in his mind forever. If he hadn’t yet known how much this girl meant to him, he did so now. That one moment told him all he had to know.
As he waited for Saffi to speak, Staffan unashamedly and hungrily stared at her. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Had she always been this beautiful? But she was also appallingly thin, and his chest squeezed painfully at the thought of being the cause of it.
“I’m fine.”
Saffi didn’t meet his gaze as she answered him, and that hurt. He clenched his fists at his side, controlling the urge to sweep her into his arms and beg for a fucking second chance. “I’m sorry if I shocked you.”
When she still didn’t say anything, he clenched his fists harder, his body becoming taut with tension. Staffan continued doggedly, “I came here to talk about the past---”
“No.” Saffi didn’t even have to think about it. The memories of what happened – of what she knowingly allowed to happen between them – still made her cringe and she would be absolutely crazy if she would let Staffan relive her humiliation all over again.
“Saffi---”
Hearing him say her name so…so normally made her whisper, “Have you…have you always known?”
“Yes---” Staffan cursed when Saffi flinched as if he had struck her. He might not understand her reaction, but he understood her, and it told him that he had somehow hurt her with his answer. “Saffi---”
She flinched again, dazed by the pain of her newfound realization. How was it possible that this man could have so many ways of hurting her? “I’m glad I gave you something to laugh about for the tour,” she said flatly. “Another stress reliever, right?”
Staffan whitened, realizing how she had completely misinterpreted his actions. “Saffi, it’s not what you think.” No longer able to keep his distance from her, not with every cell in his body clamoring for contact, Staffan went to her side.
She started to struggle the moment he touched her, but he was of course the stronger one and in moments he had tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Listen to---” His voice faltered at the sight of her eyes.
She didn’t have any stars in her eyes.
Saffi blinked at the odd way Staffan was suddenly staring at her. “What?”
Terror enveloped his heart, but he determinedly made himself ignore it. His brain told him he was fucking too late to have Saffi back, but he was going to goddamned try his hardest anyway. He wasn’t going to fucking let go without giving his all this time. He had lost her once, and it had been hell. If he had the smallest chance of chaining Saffi to his side this time, Staffan would take it and throw away the key.
“I couldn’t understand why you were pretending to be someone you’re not. I just wanted that you be the one to tell me the truth.” He inhaled sharply, knowing that what he was about to say could go either way. “Chloe…used to lie to me all the time, and I had to beg her to tell me the truth every damn time. When she left me, I swore to myself that I would never---”
Try as she might, Saffi couldn’t make herself ignore the bitterness in Staffan’s voice. “I’m sorry---”
“It wasn’t your fault, Saffi. I was wrong---”
“I lied because I couldn’t take any chances of anyone guessing who I really was, especially with the way I was dressed and the way I was acting.”
“Why were you acting out of character, Saffi?”
For a moment, Saffi considered lying but just as quickly decided against it. There was no reason to, and she couldn’t bear hurting Staffan with yet another lie. “I wanted that weekend for myself, to escape my boring life and pretend I c
ould be the kind of girl you’d want. I wanted to know how it felt to be your groupie.” She was unconscious of the way her lips twisted in a painful smile as she continued, “And I was, wasn’t I?”
Staffan groaned as tears formed in Saffi’s expressive eyes, and she struggled as he pulled her to his lap. The feel of having her back in his arms was glorious, but it would have been more so if only he didn’t feel like the scum of the earth for having hurt her so much.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Saffi.”
Her entire body remained stiff in the circle of his arms, but Staffan could feel her shoulders shaking at how hard she was trying to stop herself from crying. She failed, and every tear that seeped into his shirt burned him.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered, hugging her more tightly, knowing he would give his life in an instant if it meant stopping Saffi from hurting. “When you ran away from the room that night, I went after you.” He struggled to breathe, knowing what he was about to say would hurt her even more. “I wanted to tell you how I felt then. I was planning to go on my fucking knees and beg you to come back to me for good, but I saw you with Carson. I saw you kissing Carson. It gutted me. It was like Chloe taking me for a fool again and…” His voice lowered, voice raw with self-loathing as he admitted, “I wanted to take revenge so I did…that.”
A choking sob escaped her, Staffan’s words making her remember the worst moment of her life. She started to cry hard then, the tears endlessly flowing as she saw in her mind a vivid vision of Staffan finger-fucking another woman---
She went wild, knowing she had to get away from Staffan, every inch of her body crawling at the memory of how she had begged him to just stop touching the other woman.
“Calm down---”
“Then let me go!”
The hurt in her voice was too fresh, too strong for Staffan to ignore and he let his hands drop, keeping himself still as Saffi flew to the opposite side of the car.
Chest heaving, she strove for control, despising at the same time how weak she still was with Staffan. Just one touch and her body had become completely alive. It wasn’t right. It just wasn’t right.