Lost Avalon: A Finding Nolan Novel (9 page)

Confused and agitated, I was about to yank my hand free and get some much needed distance when Blaise smiled at the girl, removed her arms with his free hand and leaned in to whisper, “You are a fucking knock out. Seriously. And if I was single, I would already have you in a dark corner somewhere, running my mouth all over your luscious body, but I’m not,” he frowned regretfully.

Just like that, he broke away from Blondie Big Boobs and continued working the room in a similar manner. Flirting shamelessly, bestowing flattery on every woman who crossed his path, but clearly stating to each and every one of them that he was taken. By me.

Thirty minutes and countless signatures and posed pictures later, we were all sitting in the back of a limo and headed to another hotel, the last one of the trip. Tomorrow we’d all be flying out of there and headed our separate ways while Darrel drove the bus back to LA.

If I had thought Blaise would lay off of our ridiculous charade once the party was over, I was mistaken. The entire ride, he had his hand reached boldly between my legs and cupping the inside of my right thigh while he casually made small talk with the boys as if this was perfectly normal behavior. And they all went along with it.

Meanwhile, I wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with the way his hand had yet to break contact with my body since he had first reached for me in the hall before the party. I just didn’t quite follow why being a fake couple had to entail quite so much PDA.

“So, you two going to be getting your own suite from now on?” Royce was way too entertained by all of this.

“No,” I answered quickly before Blaise could. “Nothing has to change about the way we do things. There’ll still be plenty of privacy for everyone.”

“Just don’t mind the screaming. She can get a little carried away in the moment." He gave the other guys a knowing grin, and they all gave howls of approval in return. I wasn’t nearly as amused. I probably would be screaming before the end of the night, but it wouldn’t be for the reasons he was suggesting. 

“Yup. I’m a screamer.” I shot Blaise a dirty look. “Of course, that’s only if someone gives me something to scream about. So, I wouldn’t worry about missing any sleep tonight, boys.”

“Damn, Blaise. You’re in the doghouse already and you didn’t even know it.” Angel was pointing at him and laughing.

“It’s all good. I’ve been pissing Ava off since she was five. If anyone knows how to get back on her good side, it’s me.” He winked at me and for a brief moment I wasn’t sure if I wanted to slap him or wink back. This stupid cover he’d insisted on was fucking with me already.

“If only you knew how to stay there,” I chirped.

***

              I was dizzy and I couldn’t tell if it was from the pills wearing off or the close proximity to Ava. Not that she hadn’t ever been this close to me before, it just hadn’t ever been like this. I’d held her in my arms more times than I could count, had my fingers anchored in hers a million times over the years, but I had never been able to do either while showing the world how she made me feel.

             
Now, under the pretense of our new relationship, I was free to touch her and love her openly. Even if it was only temporary. I was going to take full advantage of it. Not of her. Never of her. But for the next two weeks I wouldn’t stop myself from staring at her. I wouldn’t fight back even one of the smiles she brought to my lips a hundred different ways in a single a day. Hell, maybe I’d even say the words out loud. Maybe I’d scream them from the rooftops.
I’m in love with you, Ava!
Just to see what it would feel like. The whole world would think it was normal. And Ava, she’d just think it was part of the plan. My secret would be safe.

Shit. Of all the secrets I’d had to keep, I was starting to hate that one most of all.

Chapter 8

As
soon as
we got to the hotel, I dragged Blaise straight into one of the bedrooms. I didn’t even care that everyone would assume that I was so horny I couldn’t wait a second longer to jump his bones. Although, the visual that followed my train of thought sent an uncomfortable shudder through my core. It wasn’t that the idea of sex with Blaise grossed me out or anything. It was just…weird.

             
It was hard to think of Blaise’s body as anything other than broken and in need of mending. Between the newest set of scabs forming on his chest and the scars on his back from the time some crazy bitch had used him as an ashtray, he was about as accurate a representation on the outside as he could be for what he was dealing with internally. And things were about to get even worse.

             
“That was quite a show you put on for everyone.” I peeled off my jacket and threw it over a chair in the corner. “Who are you using for inspiration?”

             
He sat on the bed, kicked off his shoes and looked over at me, crinkled brow and all. “What do you mean?”

             
“I mean, this whole boyfriend routine you’ve got going on. Where are you getting it? You’ve never been a boyfriend. I mean, have you ever even taken a girl out on a real date?”

             
For a split second I thought that I had hurt his feelings. Then his expression changed again and he laughed. “You know, I don’t think I have. Ha. Kind of funny when you think about it.”

             
“Or sad,” I said dryly. I went and stood in front of him, my back to his face and he reached up automatically to unzip my dress.

             
“You going to take a shower?” His hands were resting on my lower back where the zipper had ended.

             
“Yeah. I’ll be in and out.”

             
He just nodded and watched as I disappeared into the bathroom.

             
I purposely took my time. We had a fully stocked minibar sitting next to the bed and I didn’t want to have to watch while he downed everything inside of it. Suddenly I understood why I’d always let him wander off on his own. It was easier than watching. Easier to say I couldn’t stop him when he wasn’t right outside the door. Easier to clean up after when he was falling apart and needed me to than trying to get in the way while he was loading up to pull the trigger.

             
It wasn’t long and I was sitting with my knees up to my chin in the corner of the shower while my tears were washed down the drain by the shower’s endless stream. How had I ever wound up there? How had Blaise? I had been there from the beginning. How had I missed what was happening until it was too late? Maybe I hadn’t. Maybe I’d always seen the truth. I’d been good at making excuses for him, but how had I rationalized this? Well, really the answer was obvious. That didn’t make it any more forgivable though. Just went to show that Blaise and I had always been a match. The addict and the enabler.

             
Guess, Derek had been right on. Blaise and I
were
perfect for each other.

             
When I finally came back into the bedroom, Blaise was lying on the bed staring at the TV, a glazed look in his eyes.

             
“You should get some sleep,” I said quietly.

             
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t even turn to acknowledge me.

             
Too exhausted from the last twenty-four hours to bother with him, I climbed into bed beside him. He was laying on top of the covers, which made it hard for me to get comfortable. I shifted myself around, tugging at the blanket trying to get enough of it to at least cover me all the way, but it was pointless.

             
Meanwhile, Blaise seemed completely oblivious while he sat there mesmerized by some re-run of Jackass. He started laughing at something I was glad I missed when I caught a whiff of him. It was the final straw and I slid my leg up, aligned my foot with his hip and kicked him hard, sending him flying off the bed.

             
Befuddled, he scrambled to his knees, shooting daggers at me through his eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”

             
“You fucking stink. Go take a shower and brush your goddamn teeth. You know I hate the smell of tequila.” It was one of the reasons he’d usually stuck to vodka. Bourbon on occasion, but rarely tequila.

             
He shuffled his way to his feet and then staggered from the room, not saying anything else. I listened closely for a long time, tracking his progress based on the sounds I could hear. Then, when the water turned off, I finally rolled over and went to sleep. The next two weeks were going to be murder. If I wanted any rest, I’d have to get it beforehand.

              The following morning we all headed to the private airport where we all had flights taking us in different directions. Angel and Royce were headed back to L.A. while Derek who thought he was headed to San Francisco, was taking off to Hawaii to meet his wife. Of course, Blaise and I were traveling farther than any of them.

             
Getting to Bora Bora would take nearly twenty hours of traveling and I was counting on Blaise to get shitfaced once on the plane. I had zero desire to deal with him detoxing while we were up in the air and all at his mercy. The crew on the plane didn’t deserve it and while I had technically signed up for it, neither did I.

             
To ease my guilty conscience, I repeatedly told myself that one more day of drinking was nothing at this point and that it made no difference now. That getting on him about drinking that moment would be half ass-ing the long-term mission and be pointless in regard to the big picture. Rehab would officially start once we were in Bora Bora and not a minute sooner.

             
With the change in time zones, it was just after midnight when we arrived. The resort I had booked for us was on a private island and it took a twenty minute boat ride from the airport before we were finally able to drop our bags and settle in.

             
Still buzzing from the booze on the trip, I sent Blaise to shower and then to bed while I stepped out onto our ocean front patio. Our bungalow was at the very end, completely isolated from everyone else and we had total privacy. Perfect for calling Royce.

             
“So, you guys made it?”

             
“Yeah, checked in a little while ago.” Somehow turning my dream vacation into Blaise’s secret rehab didn’t seem like that great of a plan any more.
Way to ruin Bora Bora, Ava
.

             
“How did he handle the flight?” Royce sounded tired. It was almost four a.m. in LA, so I guess that made sense.

             
“He did fine. Kept the stewardess busy making him drinks, but that was about it.”

             
“He didn’t try to screw her in the lavatory?” Royce snorted at his own joke.

             
“Shit, you must be exhausted. Your level of funny has dropped below zero my friend. And no, as far as I know there was no mile high club activity. Which is sort of weird now that I’m thinking about it. He’s really taking this fake relationship status seriously.”

             
There was silence on Royce’s end and I thought maybe he’d dozed off.

             
“Why do you do it, Ava? Why do you put up with him?”

             
I stared out into the darkness, listening to the consistent crash of the waves. “Because. He needs me. And not because I’m all kinds of awesomeness, although, obviously I am, but because I’m all he has. Sure, he has his dad and his brother, but you tell me when the last time was you heard mention of either one of them.” I stopped myself before I said too much. “Besides, he’s my best friend Royce. I know it’s hard to see sometimes, but he’s done a lot for me, too. And if the tables were turned, if it was me spiraling out of control, he’d be there. He’d never turn his back on me.”

It was ironic really. When it came to his own life, Blaise was the weakest piece of shit I’d ever encountered, but, when it came to me, he’d always been like freaking Superman.

              “I know. Everyone knows. Why do you think Angel and Derek were so quick to believe the two of you were together?” It sounded like Royce was making deeper implications, but I was too tired to take on any sort of riddle, even if it did contain the secret answers to my life. Which wasn’t likely.

             
“Because they’re idiots.” It was the simpler and much more obvious answer.

             
Royce laughed. “Yeah. Well, try to get some sleep. Shit’s about to get real.”

             
“You’re telling me. Hey, wanna come to Bora Bora?”

             
“No. But I will if you need me to.” And I knew he meant it.

             
“I’m putting that down as a possibility. Keep a bag packed.”

             
“Yes, boss.”

             
“Good night, Royce.”