Mindgasm - A Bad Boy Romance With A Twist (Mind Games Book 3)

by Gabi Moore

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me so far aunt Lila. I know you mean well.”

  “Well of course I do. But I don’t think it’s too much to ask that you--”

  “Please don’t pay for the course for me anymore. Or for anything else for that matter.”

  She gave me a hard look.

  “You’re willing to throw away the chance of a lifetime? Do you have any idea how expensive the yearly tuition is? What do you think you’re going to do to get by?”

  I stood and looked at her. The bitter feeling in my throat was passing. I didn’t know what I would do, actually. I had no clue. I was literally an orphan. I had absolutely nothing. But then again, staring at aunt Lila’s hard face, nothing was beginning to look like a pretty good deal.

  “My life would certainly be easier with your help, but I don’t want it if it comes with strings attached.” Though I was shaking with anger, my voice sounded smooth and calm. “I don’t know yet what I’ll do. But I know I don’t want to do this,” I said, and gestured to the space between us.

  “So you’d rather whore around and waste time? Nyx, I’m not playing games with you. Don’t try me. I’ll cancel your direct debit this evening, I swear to God.”

  “I wish you would already.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Yes.”

  I pushed past her and hurried into my dorm room, slamming and locking the door behind me. It took a good few minutes of staring at my hands to get them to stop trembling. Then I looked at the room. I could cry later. I could think later. For now, I needed a plan.

  I needed to pack my things.

  Chapter 16

  It was a memory I thought I had forgotten. I don’t know why it suddenly came to me then, of all times, but all at once I thought of my father, the great actor Norman Westling, chasing me around the house with the brown inner tube from a roll of Christmas wrapping paper.

  I couldn’t have been older than five or six. I remember squealing at the top of my lungs and racing around the house, my little heart hammering away in my chest. It had snowed that year and everything was perfect.

  I don’t remember where mum was at the time. I don’t remember much, actually, but I can see clear as day the moment I ran skidding into the bedroom to hide under the bed, laughing all the while. He had pretended to be an ogre and had come after me, big cardboard tube in hand, swiping it under the bed to try and get at me. I laughed and hid and told him he’d never catch me, that I could always run away, that I could fit under the bed because I was so small and he was so big. And like it was just yesterday I remember how he laughed and said, “yes, well, you will get bigger. I’ll wait out here until you have to come out and I’ll catch you then. I’ll always find you.”

  I didn’t think I ever would get bigger. But he was right. I did. And it turned out that he could always find me, too. Even now.

  I walked quickly on and tried to ignore the burning tears in my eyes. Marching down the street to Adam’s house trying not to cry felt like carrying an enormous overfull jug of water without spilling a drop. Something swirled and lurched on the inside. I felt sick. Maybe aunt Lila would change her mind. Maybe we’d both cool down and realize we’d spoken in anger and …and what?

  And then nothing. No, the only way was forward. I had tried to call Tamara but had just gone through to voicemail. I had sent her a message and prayed that she wouldn’t just kick me out the course herself. I had packed up all my meagre belongings into the box my new chest of drawers had come in, and it now stood waiting at the door. Waiting for what, I didn’t know. But I’d figure it out. I’d make a way, somehow. It wasn’t the end of the world. Right?

  When Adam opened the door, he was in his pajamas. He frowned when he saw my tear streaked face. “Hey, what’s…?”

  I collapsed into his arms and started sobbing. I hadn’t planned to but the moment I tried to speak the jar of water spilled over and I couldn’t hold in my tears anymore.

  “Hey …shhhh,” he said and stroked my back. He guided me inside and I collapsed onto his sofa. He looked at me. I must have looked a mess.

  “I’ve just had a big row with my aunt. She’s going to cut me off. I told her to stick it, actually, that I’m tired of her using her money to manipulate me, and tired of her using my parents’ death as a …as a…” here I couldn’t help but burst into tears again. He came and sat down beside me, his warm hand on my back again. “So now I’m on my own. She won’t pay for the course anymore, she won’t pay for anything…”

  He took my head in his hands.

  “Hey. Nyx, that’s crazy. I’m so proud of you,” he said, a faint smile flickering on his lips.

  He was proud of me? Proud for being an unrepentant idiot? Proud for shooting myself in the foot? Suddenly, the sight of his smirking face seemed unbearable.

  “Do you understand how royally screwed I am, Adam?” I yelled. I couldn’t believe he had the gall to smile at me, now of all times. He looked like he was struggling to find words.

  “And Tamara! I was supposed to drive her to Cambridge, remember? I fucked up so bad. She won’t even answer my calls. She trusted me and she was just getting to like me and now she’ll kick me out for sure!”

  Telling my aunt to stick her direct debit had felt like the most liberating moment of my life. So why did I feel like such shit right now? I smeared the tears from my eyes and looked at him. He was still fucking smiling.

  “Are you actually joking right now? I wouldn’t have overslept and forgotten about Tamara if it wasn’t for you,” I said, and stood up off the sofa. The smile went a little sour on his lips.

  “Hey, Nyx, come on now…”

  “No, you come on now. This is serious. I told you I didn’t want to do this. I told you I needed to focus on school, and to clean up my act, I told you--”

  “Hey, just wait a second. Who had a big row with your aunt?”

  “I did.”

  “And who told her to ‘stick it’?”

  “Well, I did…”

  “And is that what you actually wanted to do?”

  “Well …yes. I do want her to stick it. I hated her hanging that over my head, of course I--”

  “So then why exactly are you angry at me?”

  I was angry at him. I was angry at the self-satisfied smirk on his face just at that exact moment. Angry at him wearing his stupid pajamas when my whole world was falling apart at the seams. Oh sure, it was so easy for him. Easy for him to waltz around like nothing mattered, while some of us had work to do.

  The churning inside my stomach was taking shape. Maybe this was all just a huge mistake. Maybe it was The Jackson Pollock Night all over again for me. I couldn’t have anything nice, because I’d just ruined it, eventually. And Adam wasn’t some artist in shining armor …he was just some layabout in pajama bottoms and an untidy flat.

  “Hey, there’s something important I wanted to tell you” he said, but I found it hard to listen. I looked around at his living room, exasperated. Then something caught my eye.

  “Hey, what’s that?”

  “What’s what?”

  I moved over to the entrance to his bedroom and saw something strange, and yet familiar. A big shawl, draped over his bed. Where had I seen this shawl before?

  “Whose …whose is this?” I asked, picking it up in my hands and holding it out to him.

  “It’s Laura’s,” he said, with the most infuriatingly neutral face I’d ever seen on him.

  “You remember Laura? We met her at Andrew’s house that time, you know when we--”

  “Yes I remember,” I snapped. “Why is it here though?” I hated how brittle my voice sounded.

  He walked over slowly, took it from my hands and, for the first time since I had met him, his face didn’t seem so magical anymore. In fact, it seemed horrible. Just a nose and a mouth and some eyes, nothing special, just looking down at the shawl.

  “She must have left it here,” he said plainly.

  I flopped
back down onto the couch. Yes. My aunt Lila must have been right. I was crazy. I had jumped into bed with this mysterious stranger, running around like I wasn’t an abysmal failure of a human, and people had warned me, hadn’t they? And I did it anyway, thinking that something special was happening to me, that I was something special. What an idiot I’d been. This was some true tragedy right here.

  “Are you guys …are you seeing her? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

  The tears were starting up again. I didn’t try to stop them this time. He sighed loudly and tossed the shawl down, then rubbed his face as he looked around.

  “No, Nyx. It’s not like that.”

  “Then how is it?”

  “It’s …complicated. Laura and I go back a long way. I’ve known her for years.”

  “She’s an ex?”

  “Well, something like that. But it was a very long time ago now. We’re very good friends and she came to see me…”

  “In your room?”

  He rubbed his face again.

  “Look, I know you’re upset about this aunt thing of yours but--”

  “This ‘aunt thing’?!” My face felt hot.

  “Nyx, please just calm down. You don’t have to worry about Laura.”

  “I’m not worried about her, you can run around with whoever you want, but please don’t try bullshit me at the very least.”

  I hadn’t slept. I hadn’t eaten. I was miserable. I just wanted to go home. But where was home anyway?

  “You don’t mean that. Please just sit down and chill. Have some tea with me or something.”

  I shook my head.

  “Nyx, please, I have something important I wanted to tell you. Will you just sit down for a second?”

  I looked him in the eye. I tried to find that warmth again. That deep, brown, safe feeling I had grown so used to. But it wasn’t there anymore. Had it ever been? How do you know the difference between addiction and love? No matter how much I kept looking, I couldn’t see the magic in his eyes anymore. It was dead. Gone.

  “I don’t care what you have to say. I don’t even know why I came here anyway, you obviously can’t help me,” I said quietly.

  He came over to me and put his hands on my shoulders, then tried to lean in for a kiss. Almost without thinking, I turned my head and squirmed away. It was an ugly fucking shawl. Gaudy and loud and cheap looking and I hated it.

  “I’m going,” I said, and headed for the door. I slammed it behind me and kept walking.

  No, Adam wasn’t the answer here either. I was on my own. Really on my own. And it was all slowly starting to dawn on me. I had shared parts of myself with him that I hadn’t even known existed. I had gone further with him than I thought I was allowed to go. I had never felt so …alive.

  But anyway, fuck him. He was right. It was me who had a row with my aunt. Me who pushed. And yes, maybe me that was just a teeny, tiny bit thrilled that now, it was all really happening. I don’t know what it was, but it was happening all right. And faster than I could keep up with it.

  I would miss him. I would miss that unspeakably beautiful feeling of locking eyes with him as his slid slowly into me, into me to the hilt, so deep that his hipbone, his heartbeat pressed hard up against mine, and there was no further he could go, not even if we both stopped breathing, both dug into one another’s gazes like we were trapped there. I would miss watching the little wave of goosebumps flash over his taut skin as my tongue inched him closer to coming. I would miss his stupid, stupid flat and how desperately undecorated it was.

  But I couldn’t think about any of that now. I had work to do. I had to …pull myself up by my bootstraps. Actually, I had to find a way to get ahold of some bootstraps first. Tamara.

  I looked at my watch.

  I might be able to catch her and throw myself at her feet. I didn’t know what I would tell her yet but I should probably show my face. Try to explain that I had a history of substance abuse, and unfortunately for me, I had discovered the most irresistible substance known to man. Fucking Adam Morgan. Dark, irresistible. The kind of thing that could wreck a life, apparently.

  I shook my head clear and picked up the pace. I couldn’t think about that now. Couldn’t think about her.

  It was almost too perfect to be true: Tamara was standing outside the building again, smoking, again, just like the first time I had come groveling to her. I took a deep breath and walked over, trying my best not to look too sheepish. She took one look at me, stubbed out the cigarette with her toe and held the door open for me. I quickly went inside and she followed me down the hall to her office. Her boots click-clacked on the floor behind me.

  She closed the office door behind us both and sat at her desk, templing her hands and looking at my nervous hands.

  “Back from the dead I see,” she said.

  “I am so, so sorry,” I said.

  She waited for me to come gushing out with excuses. But by the way her eyes were unpeeling me, peering straight at me and my face no-doubt still red and swollen from crying, it was as though she already knew. She knew that Adam and I had spent every evening after rehearsals together. Everyone knew.

  “I got Alice to take me in the end,” she said, “I was a little late, that’s all. Not such a big deal, don’t worry about it.”

  I winced. That was it?

  “The guy in Cambridge was amazing, actually, it’s a pity you didn’t get to meet him.”

  “Tamara, I’m so so sorry I let you down.”

  “Yeah, OK, you already said so.”

  “You’re not …angry?”

  “I’m angry as hell,” she said.

  The air in the office felt strange.

  “I may have to reconsider my place on this course,” I said slowly. Carefully. “My aunt was responsible for my tuition and she …well, it turns out she won’t be able to finance my way any further, and so I--”

  “Yeah, she called and told me all about it.”

  “She did?”

  “Your aunt really cares about you, you know that?”

  I couldn’t help my eyebrows from knitting together.

  “Yes, well, we’ve had a bit of a quarrel and now I’m going to have to arrange some kind of loan or something,” I said moodily.

  She tilted her head and gave me a strange look.

  “Nyx, can I ask you something?”

  “Um...”

  “Do you even want to be here?”

  Our eyes met.

  “Tamara, I think Bluebeard is amazing. I can’t tell you. I love how it’s all coming together. It’s so exciting, watching everyone piece it together, watching it come alive. I’m so honored to be a part of it,” I said. “Truly.”

  I meant it.

  She sighed and looked down at her lap.

  “If you were anybody else I would have kindly told you to fuck off,” she said. My ears burned. “But it’s not too often that we get to work with such raw talent here. And honestly, I’m curious about what you’re capable of. You’ve done good work so far. Really. But I’m not your aunt, yeah? I need you to really start applying yourself.”

  “Absolutely. Yes, I know exactly what you mean. And I’m so sorry, Tamara, I know I turn up late so often, and I’ve been so distracted and honestly, I’m so sorry for forgetting about Friday. I really am sorry… I just want to keep doing the set design, I really want to give it my all now, I’m ready.”

  “Oh, you’re not going to do set design anymore.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “I need more reliable people for that stuff, Nyx. Organized people. My plate is full, I need to know that the crew are on it when I need them to be.”

  I gulped. What had her and my aunt spoken about anyway?

  “No, you’re off the set design, I’ve already assigned Becky to finish up what you started.”

  “So, then…?”

  “Oh? Didn’t Adam tell you already? You were round his place just now weren’t you?” she asked and gave me a wicked smile. I didn�
��t know what was going on. But I didn’t like it one bit. She sighed again and adjusted her weight in the seat.

  “You’re not the only one to leave me in the lurch. Belinda’s head injury isn’t getting better fast enough. She can’t perform. So you’ll play the female lead. To be honest we just don’t have anyone else and what can I say, there are people out there who have your back.”

  I stared at her dumbstruck.

  “You want me to act?”

  “Isn’t that what you want?”

  Before I could think about it, my lips answered for me.

  “Yes. Yes it really is.”

  “Good.”

  “Did Adam…?”

  “Did he ask for you? Yes. A lot of people have, actually. I’m a businesswoman, Nyx, I care about running things smoothly, so if enough people are telling me you’re the one, I guess you’re the one. So whatever, go and do your thing, you have a few weeks. Wow me,” she said and smiled wryly again.

  “Oh my God, Tamara, I won’t let you down.”

  “Yeah, you will, I’m sure you will. Just do a good job with it anyway. Take all of this crazy,” she said and gestured to me, “and put it onto the stage. You’re a piece of work, Nyx, but you are a natural, I can’t argue with that.”

  I couldn’t find words.

  “Now Jesus that’s enough favors for one day. The ghost of Norman Westling owes me one, that’s for sure.”

  “You knew my father?”

  “Of course I did. I attended one of his workshops, way back in the day. I was just a kid then, but he made a big impression.”

  I smiled.

  “Yeah, he’d probably be rolling around in his grave to see me now, huh?” I said, and smiled.

  She gave me a sharp look.

  “Why would you even say such a thing?” she said, suddenly serious.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Just that …he was such a serious artist, you know? Such a sophisticated actor. So in control and all. I could never live up to that.”

  She burst out laughing.

  “Sophisticated? OK, are we talking about the same man? Your dad was crazy,” she said, walking towards the door.

  “Yeah?”