Find Me Alastar

by T L Swan

I shrug.

  She looks at me deadpan.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You don’t like him at all?” She frowns.

  “He’s okay, Seems handsome and intelligent enough.”

  She crunches on her ice. “He doesn’t have the thing does he?”

  I shrug again.

  She shakes her head. “Screw that guy wrecking this fun for you. What possessed you to sleep with him, anyway?”

  “This isn’t about Alastar,” I snap.

  “Bullshit. You were lusting after Mark for months and now we are here and he is being all sexy and you don’t think he has the thing. What’s that about?”

  I put my fingers to my temples. “Maybe he will grow on me.”

  She shakes her head as she puts her hand up for the bartender to order another round of drinks.

  “The thing doesn’t grow. They either have it… or they don’t.”

  I put my head back in dismay, knowing it’s true.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Mark doesn’t have it. But I think that’s just because I need to know who called him.”

  “Called him when?” Brielle frowns.

  “Not Mark! Alastar!” I snap.

  “Why the fuck are we still talking about that douchebag?”

  “Because I’m pissed off that someone called him and I will never know who it was or why he left.”

  “Who the hell cares who called him? It was obviously his wife. Nobody leaves in the middle of the night for no reason. He got you to have sex in a drinking game. It was like a bad college experience. Forget about it.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” I sigh into my drink as my eyes drift to the door in time to see Alastar and his brother Thomas walk through it.

  “H-holy… s-shit,” I stammer, quickly ducking my head.

  “What?” Brielle asks as she looks around. “What’s wrong?” “Alastar is here.”

  “What?” she whispers as she cranes her neck to turn and see him. “Which one?”

  “The trendy tall one.” “Oh,” she whispers into her drink. “Shit, he is hot.”

  I slide down in my seat, hoping he won’t see me. “Thanks for reminding me, bitch,” I whisper. She nods as she stares at him while biting her straw.

  I slink down farther into my chair. “What’s he doing?” I croak.

  “He’s at the bar.”

  Why did I want to come here tonight?

  “Fuck, he’s seen you.”

  “What?” I whisper.

  “Yep. He’s coming over.” “No! What?” I snap again as my eyes widen in fear.

  He appears next to the table and I look up. “Hiding from someone?” he asks casually.

  Cocky bastard. “No.” I reply as I sit up in my chair.

  He smirks. “I’m Alastar.” He shakes Brielle’s hand.

  Her eyes drift to me.

  “Hello.” She smiles. “I’m Brielle.” Thomas his brother walks over to the table.

  “This is my brother Thomas,” he introduces. “Thomas, this is Brielle.”

  Brielle smiles broadly. “We have met. Nice to see you again, Thomas.”

  “Hello.” He smiles cheekily.

  “Please, join us.” She gestures to the chairs at the table. My eyes widen in horror. Is she kidding? Thomas obviously likes the look of my about-to-be-bashed friend, dropping into the seat without any hesitation. Alastar stays standing and I look down at the table to avoid his stare.

  “Is that okay with you, Emmaline?”

  My angry eyes snap up to him. “My name is Emerson. Please call me that.”

  He raises his eyebrows in question. “Is that a yes?”

  “Fine,” I snap.

  He sits down.

  This is just great. I want to punch him in the nose across the table. I lift the menu to hide my scowling face.

  “Are you eating, too?” Thomas asks.

  “Yes.” Brielle smiles. “Your accent is Irish, yes?”

  Thomas smiles. “Guilty.”

  Brielle giggles shyly.

  I roll my eyes. Give me a fucking break. Now they are going to sit here and flirt and Alastar and I are going to ignore each other. Perfect.

  The waitress comes over. “Are you all ready to order?” I open my menu annoyed. “I will have the pasta.”

  Brielle starts to order and my eyes wander to Alastar who is staring at me openly. Stop watching me, asshole.

  “What?” I mouth angrily. I’m so pissed off with this guy I can’t even pretend he doesn’t shit me.

  He holds both of his hands up in the air, mocking my venom. I’m not even joking. I’m so mad I could cut out his kidney with a breadstick.

  “How have you been?” he asks.

  Oh, you mean how have I been since you made me feel like a dirty whore? “Great, thanks.” I snap.

  “You?” He shrugs. “I’ve been better.”

  My eyes narrow. What’s that code for? My wife found out I slept with you and now I’m sleeping on the streets. The waitress goes to him next and he orders his meal as I watch him intently. What am I going to do? Do I pretend he didn’t hurt my feelings or do I lay it all out on the table and give him a chance to explain? Who am I kidding? He doesn’t want to explain. His phone beeps and I watch him type in his security code: 2457. Why do I watch people’s phone codes? It’s such a bad habit.

  Hmm, unless… I have an idea.

  I take out my phone and text Brielle.

  Get Alastar’s phone.

  She reads her text and frowns at me I raise my eyebrow. I text back:

  His security code is 2457.

  She picks up her drink and smirks into it as she texts back.

  What the fuck for?

  For some reason I find that funny and I drop my head to hide my smile. Thomas has now gotten up to go to the bar and Alastar is still texting someone on his phone. I reply:

  Check his incoming messages during the early hours of Saturday morning last week.

  She reads the texts and her eyes widen before she gives me one curt nod.

  Distract him.

  Shit, how do I do that? He places his phone down on the table and I know that I have no time to waste. It’s now or never. “Alastar, can you come and dance with me? I want to talk to you.”

  His eyes hold mine. “Really?” He frowns as his eyes flick to the two desperate girls dancing alone on the dance floor.

  “Yes, really.” I stand abruptly. He goes to pick up his phone but I take it off him and place it back down on the table. “You wont be needing that,” I reply as I drag him away from it. We approach the dance floor and I quickly fill with dread. This is the worst song I have ever heard. He rolls his lips to hide his smile. “You like this song?” he asks as he wraps me in his large arms.

  Crap, he can’t touch me. Hell. I didn’t think this plan through at all. He starts to get closer and closer until I can feel his breath in my ear. His arms are warm and tight as I rest my face on his chest. God damn it, why does he have to be such an asshole?

  “Were you sick on Saturday morning?” He smiles.

  “No. It was a night I would rather forget, though.”

  His face falls.

  Guilt fills me, why the heck do I care if I hurt his feelings? Screw him and his pretend feelings. He really has hurt mine. We turn and I look over to the table to see Brielle talking to Thomas and she gives me a nod. “Lets go back. I don’t like this song,” I announce.

  He shakes his head in confusion and we go back to the table. Alastar sits quietly with his hands linked in front of him. Brielle and Thomas are deep in conversation about where Thomas works.

  “What do you do for work, Alastar?” Brielle asks.

  “I’m a photographer for magazines,” he replies.

  Huh, typical. He probably is a serial model screwer. I nod and sip my drink. Stop it. You’re acting frigging crazy. It was a one-night stand—get the hell over it.

  Brielle starts to talk to the two boys and I read my message from Brielle.

 
4.00 AM Saturday from Thomas

  “Where are you?”

  I frown at Brielle and gesture to Thomas with my chin. Who him?

  She nods subtly and shakes her head as if she doesn’t understand, either. What the hell? He left me because his brother asked where he was. I start to feel my pulse throbbing in my veins. What the hell am I doing sitting here playing nice?

  I put my phone down onto the table and glare at Alastar. He raises his eyebrows in question.

  I shake my head in annoyance. Thomas and Brielle continue talking and I stare down at the table. I think it was better when I thought he had a reason to leave me. In my twisted mind I had been justifying us hooking up by thinking that the attraction between us had been so strong, he just hadn’t been able to fight it. But no, I was just another number.

  “Are you married, Alastar?”

  Fuck it, I’m just coming out with it now. Who cares? It’s not like I have anything to lose. He obviously doesn’t care.

  Alastar narrows his eyes, annoyed at my question. “I have answered this already.”

  I glare at him. “That isn’t a fucking answer.”

  “No, I am not fucking married,” he growls.

  “Don’t you dare swear at me!” I’m outraged. Of all the nerve. Irish swearing sounds mean.

  “You swore first and it was a stupid question.”

  My mouth drops open in horror. “Was it?” I snap.

  “It was,” he half yells.

  My eyes flick to our two companions who are, rather wisely, staying silent.

  “If you’re not married, tell me why your little brother here texts you in the middle of the night and asks where you are? Your wife or girlfriend had obviously called him to find out where you were.”

  His eyes flick to Thomas. “How do you know that?”

  Brielle gives me a subtle don’t do it shake of the head.

  “Because Brielle hacked your phone, and I am so onto you, asshole,” I snap, outraged.

  His angry eyes glare at Brielle. “You hacked my damn phone?” He snaps.

  Brielle smiles stupidly, not quite believing I just dobbed her in so easily and she points at me. “She told me to.”

  His angry eyes come back to me. “That’s it.” He stands abruptly and throws his napkin onto the table.

  “Don’t bother leaving, because I am,” I yell.

  I grab my bag and storm toward the door and he bursts out after me. I run to the curb and lift my arm.

  “Thomas, look after Brielle,” I yell at him, and he nods, too scared of my psycho performance.

  “You are impossible,” Alastar yells. “You’re angry with me because I’m not married? How dare you invade my privacy?”

  I turn to face him, fury coursing through my veins. “I’m angry that you used me and we both know it was you who invaded me.”

  His face drops. “Is that what you think?”

  “I don’t think it. I know it.”

  He stands still and watches me but doesn’t answer.

  My anger gets the better of me, stupid tears form. “You hurt me,” I whisper.

  His face drops and he steps toward me.

  I hold my hands up in defense. “Don’t. Don’t you dare touch me,” I choke.

  “Em…” He whispers.

  “Stop it. I know you’re a player and you’re used to this. This love and leave them routine must make your belt notches pretty big. Tell me, Alastar, do I have an STD?” My voice cracks betraying my hurt.

  He frowns.

  “If you didn’t use a condom with me, you obviously don’t use them at all.”

  His face falls. “Of course I use them with everyone else. I’m completely clean. In fact, I have only had unprotected sex once in my life.”

  I shake my head in disgust. He’s just cemented what a liar he is. He had unprotected sex with me numerous times… he doesn’t even remember how many times we did it. Sadness comes over me like a dark, heavy blanket.

  “It’s not what you think?” He pauses. “This situation is not what you think. I couldn’t stay away from you.”

  I shake my head in disgust. The lies are just bleeding out of him now like poison. “It is exactly what I think, Alastar. Who are you kidding? You couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

  A cab arrives to save me. I jump into it, but he leans through the half open window. “I don’t want you to hate me.” I glare up at him. “Too late. I do,” I reply coldly. “I hate that you made me feel like this.”

  The cab pulls away from the curb and we speed down the street as the tears of sadness fill my eyes.

  London is a disaster.

  Chapter 9

  The sound of a gunshot makes me jolt up in bed, and I pant as I try to catch my breath.

  What was that?

  Who was shot?

  It’s 3am and my bedroom is dark and still. I stand as my heart beats heavy in my chest and walk to the window to pull the sheer curtains back and stare down at the street below.

  Was that gunshot outside… or was it all another dream?

  I feel like I’m going crazy, between these dreams and the flashing lights in my eyes.

  I get a glass of water and return to my window seat to watch the city lights below. I haven’t been sleeping well, what with the constant, nagging thoughts of my characters, Henry and Elizabeth every night. I take out my notepad and let my imagination run wild.

  It’s so life like that I would swear their story is real. This is going to be a great book.

  * * *

  “Would you like to go for a walk in the woods this afternoon,” Elizabeth asks hopefully.

  Henry’s eyes hold hers and then he looks around the stable to make sure nobody can hear their conversation. “Elizabeth, I cannot meet you. Why would you want to walk with me?” he whispers. Even though she has been visiting him for weeks in the stables, he still cannot make sense of it.

  Elizabeth’s face falls. “I just want to spend time with you, I want to get to know you.”

  “Why?” He frowns.

  She hesitates. “Because I like you.”

  “You like me?” He smirks as if not believing her.

  She smiles and nods quickly. “Very much. Please tell me that you like me, too.”

  “Elizabeth,” he whispers. “We could never be like that. I am below your station. You are to marry a duke. Your father would never allow it.”

  Elizabeth steps back from him and her back straightens in annoyance.” I don’t want to marry a duke. A title means nothing in my eyes. I shall run away as soon as I get the chance.” She steps forward, grabbing his hand in hers.

  His eyes hold hers.

  “Please.” She smiles hopefully.

  “Elizabeth, you know I like you but you need to stop this. I am not allowed to have you.” The truth is… he has thought of nothing else but her lately.

  “But do you want me?” She dares herself to ask as she holds his hand in hers.

  Henry’s eyes drop to her lips and his palm rises to rest against her cheek. “More than anything, I want you,” he whispers.

  “Kiss me,” she breathes as she looks up at him.

  Henry’s eyes fly around the stable and back to hers.

  “I need you to kiss me.” She smiles lovingly up at him.

  This crazy girl with her romantic notions will be the death of him, literally. Henry leans in and kisses her, his gentle hands cupping her face.

  Elizabeth pulls back and her eyes dance with delight. “Meet me this afternoon at the stream by the bottom paddock.”

  Henry frowns. “It’s too dangerous. I will be strung up if I am caught with you alone.”

  She leans in and kisses him again “Say you will. Rules are meant to be broken.”

  He swallows the lump in his throat as he contemplates his decision, knowing this is risky.

  “I will meet you at three?” she whispers hopefully.

  Henry smiles at the ground, kicking the dirt with his shoe as he nods.


  Elizabeth smiles broadly. “I shall dream of you all day, Henry.”

  Henry smiles bashfully. “Goodbye, Elizabeth. Now go inside before you get me into trouble.”

  Emerson

  “Can I see you tonight?” Mark asks hopefully.

  Please give up. I’m not interested.

  We are in the kitchen at work and I am making a coffee. He is standing behind me, pretending to wait for the kettle. Every time Mark sees me go somewhere in the office, he’s right behind me in five seconds flat. Not even the lunchroom or photocopier are safe zones. “Mark...” How do I put this? “I want to be friends and get to know each other a bit more.” My eyes hold his. Please, please get the hint. I don’t want to have to come out and say I don’t like you. I do have to work with him, after all, but then I don’t want to lead him on, either.

  “You want to get to know me and be friends?” he repeats.

  I smile. “Yes.”

  He grins and stands really close to me. “So you are after a friend with benefits kind of thing?”

  What?

  “Ahem,” a female voice interrupts. We both turn around sheepishly. Great. It’s Stephanie from reception... again. This chick is busting my every move.

  “S-steph,” Mark stammers. “How are you?”

  She looks at him blankly and raises a brow. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

  His eyes widen and flicker back to me. Christ, they are still on together.

  “Steph, let’s go into my office.” He tries to get her away from me before she says anything else.

  I smirk and drop my head. Busted, asshole.

  I walk back to my desk. “Your phone has been going off,” Travis tells me as he types.

  “Oh, sorry. I forgot to turn it on silent.” I pick it up and swipe the screen to see six missed calls from Alastar.

  My heart does somersaults. Shit, what does he want? I haven’t heard from him since our fight on the weekend and it’s Wednesday now. Should I call him back?

  I think for a moment. No. He has been as ass. If he wants to contact me, he can keep on trying. I get back to work, feeling a little happier, when my desk phone rings.

  “Hello, Emerson speaking.” I smile.