Aligned: Volume 3 (5 page)

“What the fuck?” I say, as the door flies open and lights come on in my hotel room, blinding me.
 

“Time to get up or you’ll miss your flight,” Drew says, standing at the foot of my bed acting all business. He presses his phone back to his ear. “Yes, two o’clock ...” Drew says into his phone.
 

I ignore the rest of the conversation and pull the pillow over my head to drown out Drew and block the blinding light.
 

All of a sudden, I’m drenched in icy cold water, which forces me to jump out of bed to escape the cold water.
 

“Fuck!” I scream as I try to shake off the excess water.
 

Drew throws me a towel, which I immediately use to begin drying off with.
 

“What was that for?”
 

“I’m done watching you sulk. You’ve been sulking, and drinking, and acting like a big baby for over a week now. It’s time to grow up and start acting like a man. It’s no wonder Alex left you.”

I throw the soaked towel at Drew, getting his perfectly tailored suit wet. “Stop acting like you’re my father. You’re not.” I plop on the couch and grab the remote to flip on the TV. “And don’t talk about Alex.”
 

“Wow, that comment should have at least gotten me a punch to the face, a nasty glare, or something. You really are a mess, man,” Drew says, grabbing the remote from me and turning the TV back off. I don’t even put up a fight. I just close my eyes and let my head fall back until it’s resting on the cold soft fabric.
 

“Get it together, man. It was just a chick. Once you go on tour next week, you will have more chicks than you know what to do with. Just like before.”
 

I don’t bother to open my eyes as I respond on autopilot. “She wasn’t just some chick. She was
the chick
.”
 

“What do you mean she was
the chick
?”
 

Damn! I squeeze my eyes tight hoping to make the headache go away, but it doesn’t help. I haven’t told Drew the whole story yet about what happened with Alex. All he knows is she broke up with me, and I’m not really in the talking mood to say anything more.
 

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” I move to get up from the couch to find my clothes, but Drew shoves me back.
 

“Nope, start talking. What the hell did you do?” His face is red, his nostrils flared, and a tiny bead of sweat has formed on his forehead indicating how angry he really is. He’s pissed and has no doubt guessed what I did. Not point denying it now.
 

“I proposed to her, in the hospital waiting room, while she was waiting to hear if her husband was dead or alive.”
 

“Fuck, Landon! You’re a bigger idiot than I thought.” I watch as Drew begins pacing the room as more beads of sweat trickle down his red face.
 

“Where is the ring?”
 

“I tell you Alex’s husband is alive and you care more about the damn proposal part? What is wrong with you?”
 

Drew takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, trying to calm himself, but his face is just as red as before.
 

“I already knew that Alex’s husband is alive. It’s all over the news. You would know that if you joined the living during daylight hours. What did you do with the ring?”
 

My stomach churns when I lift my head to look at him. “I don’t know. I think I threw it into a river or something.”
 

Drew’s shoulders relax; his face softens from a bright red to more of a pale pink. “Good.”
 

“Why does it matter what I did with the fucking ring?”
 

“Because if you still have it on you, then you are likely to propose to anyone in your drunken state. Or worse, someone will get a picture with you and the ring, which will cause a media storm. Caroline will find out and reveal what happened last year to the media. That
can’t
happen. It will ruin you. You could end up in jail.”
 

I huff but don’t protest. He’s right. I can’t propose to anyone. Ever. It was stupid of me to propose to Alex, for many reasons. It was stupid of me to get involved with her in the first place. Too fucking late now. My heart is already hers, and I don’t want it back. But I don’t know how to move on without her.
 

Drew walks over to the dark brown dresser, opens the drawer, and pulls out some of my clothes. He walks back to where I still sit on the couch and throws the clothes at me. “Put these on. We need to go.”
 

I just stare at the clothes. I can’t leave. If I leave New York, I have no chance of getting her back.
 

“Put the clothes on. You need to give her space. Last time you were apart, she came back to you. Maybe that will happen again,” Drew says somberly.
 

I just stare at the pile of clothes in my lap because I don’t believe him for a second. Alex is stubborn and loyal. She’ll be loyal to her husband no matter what. Even if she never loves him, she’ll never leave him.
 

“Just put the clothes on. You can’t chase after her if you are naked.”

“Sure, I can.” I can’t help it as my lips curl into a slight smile. My brain drifts back to an earlier memory that has nothing to do with Alex. One of the good memories I have of Caroline, Drew, and me. The memory of my twelfth birthday.
 

An alarm clock sounds loudly. Except it doesn’t sound like a normal alarm clock. It sounds more like a foghorn blasting loudly in my room. I sit up and look around my room. All I see is shaving cream. It’s all over my body. It’s covering my bed. I climb out of bed but slip and fall landing in a large pile covering my floor. It’s everywhere. It’s going to be a bitch to clean. And if father finds it ... Well, let’s just hope he stays clear of my room like usual.
 

I glance up and see Caroline laughing hysterically at what she did. Drew is standing behind her smiling brightly, although I know who the mastermind is behind the prank. Caroline. Drew doesn’t have a fun bone in his body.
 

My eyes grow tight, and my face grows red as I prepare to tackle her in the shaving cream. Although I’m not as angry as my face leads her to think I am, her eyes grow wide as I hear Drew tell her to run. She gives me one more innocent glance before she takes off running through the small house. I get up and carefully maneuver through the shaving cream past Drew.
 

“Wait ... you can’t chase after her naked!” Drew exclaims.
 

I smile a wicked grin. “Sure, I can.”
 

I take off through the neighborhood. Thankful that only an older gentleman sees me running through the streets while I am only wearing underwear and covered in shaving cream. He just shakes his head with a small grin on his face at the sight of me.
 

I chase Caroline through the neighborhood. She is fast, but I’m faster. I see her dart down her street, and I cut through the neighbor’s yard. I tackle her to the soft grass in front of a stranger’s house.
 

“Get off me! You’re getting shaving cream everywhere!” she squeals.
 

I laugh but don’t move off her. Instead, I do what my body has been craving to do to her for months now. I kiss her.
 

***

I climb into the private jet and take a seat in one of the far back chairs. It’s just Drew and me on this flight, despite the four empty chairs in front of me. I’m thankful he sprung for a private jet. I don’t think I could handle a commercial flight right now. I don’t think I can handle any flight right now. I’m still hungover, but I’m at least dressed and have some basic food in my stomach. Drew takes a seat next to me and I pull my ball cap over my face and lean my chair back to sleep. It’s the only way I’ll get through this flight.
 

Drew immediately grabs the ball cap off my face. “I don’t think so. After you being MIA for a week, we have some work to do.”
 

I growl at Drew. “I think my time would better be spent sleeping. That’s why I pay you to handle stuff, so handle it.”
 

“I am. Just thought you might like to see the magazine article about you and Caroline coming out tomorrow.”
 

That gets my attention. “What article?”
 

“The article that is doing damage control so they don’t post anything about you and Alex.”
 

Shit. I forgot about that. I put my seat back up and give Drew my full attention.

“Show me.”
 

He grins and then pulls out his phone and begins scrolling. I wait impatiently for him to find it. In the meantime, the pilot announces that we are taking off. Drew and I both buckle our seat belts, and I glance out the window one last time. One last glance of New York. One last glance at Alex.
 

Good-bye, Alex
, I think, and then I close the window covering, trying to block her from my mind. It’s hard because my mind immediately goes back to her. How her body perfectly fits with mine. How she moans when my teeth sink into her. Her face as she comes. It is all permanently etched on my mind. I can’t escape it.
 

“Here.” Drew hands me his cell phone. I take it from him and immediately begin to read the article. I read through before looking at the picture. It’s bad. Really fucking bad. It’s Caroline and me kissing. Although this picture is an unreleased picture from when we were dating, it’s made to seem like it recently happened. Alex is going to flip. Broken up or not, she won’t tolerate this.
 

“What did you do?” I’m still staring at the screen. I can’t tear my eyes from the incriminating picture.
 

“I fixed the problem.”
 

“Alex is going to flip out!”
 

“Good.” Drew grabs the phone out of my hands.
 

“Why is that good? She’ll never talk to me again. I’ll never have a chance of getting her back.” Not that I have a chance anyway. She’s completely committed to that slick looking bastard.
 

“No, the exact opposite. She’ll call you the second this becomes news.”

“To scream and yell and call me a cheater.”
 

“Yes, but she’ll talk to you for once instead of ignoring your calls like usual.”
 

I relax a little. Maybe Drew is right. She’ll call. Then I’ll get a chance to change her mind, or at the very least, hear her voice again until she comes to her senses.
 

Drew gets up from his seat and moves to the front of the plane while I plot what I’m going to say to Alex when she calls. When he comes back, he shoves my guitar in my lap. I stare at him, my eyebrows raised in confusion as the guitar rests in my lap.
 

“Start writing a new song. You have three hours till we land. Make yourself useful.”
 

“I don’t have anything to write about.”
 

Drew laughs. “Sure you do. Her.”
 

I watch her take a seat at the bar before I make my move. My eyes are trained on her as I move across the crowded bar. I take a seat right next to her.
 

“Tell me about how we first met,” Alexa says. She fidgets with her engagement and wedding rings in her lap as she sits in a folding chair next to my hospital bed. I smile remembering when she first came back from visiting my grave. She walked straight to me with the rings already shimmering on her finger. When she hugged me and kissed me, it felt, for the first time, like she meant it. Like she wanted me. She hasn’t done that again since.
 

“We first met at a party.”
 

She stops fidgeting with her rings and looks up at me. Alexa always looks at me intently when I’m telling her something about her past. She tries to soak up every detail of the story as if she’s reliving it. But every time I finish telling her a story about her past, she gets sad, withdrawn. She hasn’t remembered anything about her past. No matter how many stories I tell to refresh her memory, she never remembers. She never will.
 

“Who’s party?” Alexa asks; she rests her elbows on the edge of the hospital bed. Her whole body leans forward so that her head is resting on her elbows. She’s as close to me as she can be without climbing into my bed. Not that I would complain. I miss her body. Her touch. Anything that would make me feel warm, instead of the dead cold I currently feel inside. Coming back from the dead isn’t as glamorous as one would think. I’ve been through more physical therapy appointments, medical exams, tests, police interviews, and news interviews than I can keep track of. It’s a wonder I’ve gotten stronger instead of weaker with everything going on. Strong enough to go home tomorrow. Then Alexa and I can go home — together.
 

“Who’s party?” Alexa asks again bringing me back to focus on her. She’s gorgeous despite being dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. Her hair is thrown up on top of her head. Not an ounce of makeup touches her face. Mother would complain that she looks like a scoundrel being so unkempt, but she is always beautiful to me.
 

“You’re beautiful,” I say, unable to help myself.
 

A slow blush begins to form on her cheeks. She smiles before leaning back in her chair away from me. She does that when I make her uncomfortable. It’s not anything new. Alexa’s done that since day one. It’s one of the things about her that intrigues me so much. She isn’t easily caught. I have to fight every day to keep her mine.
 

“I’m a mess.”
 

“You’re beautiful.”
 

She just shakes her head barely looking at me.
 

“The party, it was James’ bachelor party.”

“I didn’t know James was married.”