Entangled (A Tryst Novel) (19 page)

I don’t know what to feel; relief, nausea, guilt, fear, jealousy—it’s all swirling around inside me, crashing and thrashing within, with no real goal in sight, but making me
 
feel 
it all at once. It all grinds through every fiber of my being, and that feeling of being lost only expands.

“Skyler, please . . .”
I need you
. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She lets the silence hang for longer than it needs to, and it’s as if I can hear her thinking. “Blake, what’s wrong?”

Aw, fuck. Don’t comfort me. I don’t deserve it.

“I just miss you so fucking much. I went to that party, and it was a mistake. I wanted to be in the hotel room to call you. You’re all I could think about. I drank too much. I was being stupid. I don’t want to
 
not
 
tell you things. I just don’t know what I can and cannot say.”

A harsh sigh echoes into the phone. “You can
 
say
 
everything. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. What are you protecting me from? You’re hurting me more by holding back because you’re worried how it might make me feel. That’s not how this works. Look what happened.”

“I didn’t want to go with Kathryn. I wished it were you with me. I’d let you do whatever you wanted to me when I walked that carpet. I don’t fucking care. I just need you by my side.”

I’m whining. I’m practically pleading like a lost puppy for her, and I hate myself for it, but I don’t want to fight back how much I miss her.

“I wish I could be there, but it’s not like you invite me to those things. You asked me to go with you to New York, but you didn’t tell me why. And you’re sounding so sad. It’s killing me.”

She’s pleading with me, too. We’re in the same boat, the same tiny life raft.

I fall back onto the mattress.

“I didn’t know I’d be going to that party. Josh sprang it on me last minute. I always want you with me, but I don’t want you any more distracted from school.”

She releases another sigh, and I worry I sense a sniffle. “I miss you.”

This has officially been our hardest time apart.

“I miss you, too. I’ll never
 
not
 
tell you anything again. I’ve been an idiot. Starting now, it gets better. Please come with me to this awards show when I get back. It’s a midweek, stuffy, bowtie, prestigious sort of show. I won’t be able to stand it without you. I love being an actor, but I hate this social part without you. I kept thinking I was protecting you—”

“You’re not, though. I’m scared of all of it, I am. I know you sense that, but it doesn’t mean I want to be left out. We do this together, remember? This is what being in a relationship is about. We don’t choose for each other, but we stay by each other’s side.”

“I love you so fucking much. Are you still mad?”

“Yes, but I’m not murderous-mad anymore. Although, I did at one point consider an irrational rampage. It would have been a crime of passion, I’m telling you,” Skyler says.

I close my eyes while letting a smile spread through my lips. “You love me that much that it’d drive you into a homicidal rage?”

“We’re talking
 
Law and Order
 
status here.”

A laugh breaks through my stress, and it feels so good. “Just pin it on your brother,” I chortle.

“That’s what they’d expect! Have you not seen the show?” She releases my favorite sound of girlish giggles, and it finally feels like the morning is leveling out.

“How about we skip the felony, and I just come home, and we screw like rabbits until your brother makes a noise complaint?”

“You’ve officially lost your mind.”

“Oh, a long time ago, babe.”

The lull in conversation is a comforting one, and I swear I could fall asleep to the hum of her breathing.

With the corners of my mouth still lifted in a comfortable smile, I say, “I’m gonna make it up to you when I come back, Skye. I mean it. Just a couple more weeks of filming, and it’ll be easier to get a grip on everything.”

“You don’t have to do that. This is a learning curve for both of us, but we do have a lot to talk about.”

My eyes spring open, her words reminding me of something. “You said you were with Gio yesterday.”

She doesn’t hesitate. I can’t tell if that soothes me, or only feeds the fire of my jealousy. “I was. I needed a friend, Blake. I don’t have anyone else. I’ve been . . . stressed, to say the least.”

I want to tackle the Gio thing head-on, but my mind is skipping to all the pertinent things that are going on that we haven’t covered. “How’s school? Have you heard from any med schools yet?”

The grumble I hear isn’t soothing, that’s for sure.

“Like I said,
 
stressed
. We have a lot to talk about, and I need you here to help me clear my head, figure stuff out, and all that. I was overwhelmed last night, and I didn’t want to bother you, and Gio was free, unlike everyone else I know, so I took the opportunity.”

I remember that Vanessa was here with Josh, and that Skyler mentioned Tucker has a new boyfriend, and I suddenly realize I’ve left her to be an island. I don’t like the thought.

“But you did call me last night?” I ask, remembering her missed call.

“I did, but that was after I saw you with Kathryn.”

The knot in my stomach is back with a vengeance.

I had sent Skye into her own panic, and she called me seeking solace.

I clench my eyes shut.

“Oh . . .” I suck in a breath. “We’re just going to have a me-and-you day, Skye. When I get back, I want us to talk about everything.”

“I want all of that. I love you.”

“I love you, too, even if you become a homicidal maniac because of our undying love.”

“Just come home to love me.”

“It’s at the top of my list.” I lift my head to look at the time, thinking how to lighten the mood. “Actually, are you near a computer?”

I can practically hear her eyes rolling, and I adore it. “I am not
 
Skyping
 
you naked.”

“But it’s a hangover cure, didn’t you know? You’d be helping me out.”

“’Bye, Blake. When you get back you might get the real deal if you earn it.”

“Is that a challenge?” I chide, basking in our foreplay three thousand miles apart.

“It’s most definitely a challenge, and I won’t accept failure.”

God, I love her.

Skyler

Blake hasn’t been back twenty-four hours and he insisted on date night immediately.

I didn’t realize his flight was so early until he crawled into my bed at eight this morning. He kissed me on my forehead, hushed me before I could screech my excitement. His face was as strained and tired as my heart felt, so I obeyed. I was too shell-shocked by his stunning, dark green eyes to speak anyway. I reached out for him, wrapped my arms tightly around his waist as if I didn’t want this dream to dissolve and disappear. He gripped me just as tight, and that’s when I knew the weight on my heart is a mutual feeling, and I hate it.

I’m hell-bent on making this better.

I smooth out my charcoal sweaterdress and look down at my boots, liking the grunge contrast. I run my fingers through my thick, wavy hair, feeling at least content with the cooperation of my appearance as I examine my black eyeliner and purple eye shadow. I’ve been practicing pretty dirt in the boring lulls of Blake’s busy work schedule.

I feel pretty.
 
Oh, so pretty . . .

Blake appears at the top of the steps. The curve to his lips is the same smirk that will forever ignite my erratic heart, but his eyes are that dark shade of green.
 
Troubled.

He doesn’t speak but takes three strides toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me to him. It’s another tight squeeze reminiscent of this morning.

“Blake, are you okay?”

He lifts a heavy shoulder while the fingers of his right hand trail up my body until they reach my chin, lifting my stare to his.

“I’m perfect. I just can’t tell what I want anymore but I know it involves you. Tonight. You. This is what I want and need.”

Before I can ask more questions, his lips collide with mine hungrily. My feet fumble, and I take a step back, but Blake’s strong hold keeps me glued to him. I melt against his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck, putting all of my own desperation and nerves into the sealing of our lips. I can feel his erection pressing against my stomach, and I can’t hold back the crook of my mouth from rising.

I peel away just enough to catch my breath. “If you keep doing this, we’ll never leave the house.”

He presses his lips to my forehead, grinning like the beautiful fool he is. “You’re probably right. I have dinner reservations made.”

I smile, tugging gently at his hair. “Please don’t tell me this place is as fancy as our first date.”

He grumbles roughly, kissing me before pulling away. “It’s nice enough, and sort of a hot spot. I know how you like live music.”

I think I’m glowing. I’ve never said I like live music out loud. Blake just knows. He takes mental notes all the time. It’s something I don’t give him enough credit for.

“Awesome. You’re kind of the perfect boyfriend.”

His brows furrow. “Far from it, but I don’t think I’m half bad. We have a lot to talk about tonight, and I hope that makes us perfect together.”

He must feel my muscles tense under his touch because he leans in, chuckling as he kisses me again. “C’mon, Skye. Don’t be like that. You know it’s true. We need this; all of this.” His hands smooth over my ribs, sending a delightful hum through my body. “I’ve even told your brother to fuck off for the night.”

I raise a brow, shifting gears. “He let you do that?”

“Not without a bribe, but who cares?”

We both share a belt of laughter. There’s no way my brother would allow Blake and me to have the house to ourselves without hefty compensation. He hates it when Blake even holds my hand in front of him. I can’t imagine the fury building inside him at the thought of Blake and me here alone. I imagine my brother red-faced and frustrated, pacing Vanessa’s apartment, and a skirting giggle escapes my lips.

“Yeah, yeah . . . laugh it up.” Blake rolls his eyes before placing a kiss against my forehead again and grabbing for my hand. “You look really pretty tonight, by the way.”

Yup. Perfect.

I grin. “Thank you.”

He mirrors my look before heading downstairs, and I love that he’s in a simple V-neck and jeans. He makes the simple stylish.

I peer over at the clock, noting it’s nearing seven in the evening, and the thought of having Blake all to myself has my adrenaline pumping in the best way.

I heave in a deep breath, recalling Blake’s words. We do have so much to say. I want us at ground zero. I just worry what I’m willing to say. I swallow the thought.

When I make it to him in the living room he tangles his fingers in mine as he shoots me a smirk, his eyes sparking with the same thrill that I can feel at our fingertips’ touch. This is our night. We earned this.

That thrill reaches its peak as I watch Blake reach for the front door, and I’m about to tell him how much I love him and make some snarky remark involving a Ken doll, but before I can wrap my brain around another thought, I’m blinded, blinking furiously in unison with the sound of rapid clicking and bright flashes.

Cameras, lots of them, accost my senses.

What?

This is when my thrill crashes and burns into confusion, and maybe even fear; topsy-turvy sounds right, too.

I can’t see where I’m going. I raise my free hand up to block the bright lights, and drop my eyes to the ground, watching my steps. I don’t know what to do but follow Blake’s lead as he tows me forward, trailing out the front door, only turning around to lock it.

Blake opens the passenger-side door to his car. He’s pushing people aside while uttering stern
excuse me’s
to the overbearing crowd, and he’s careful I don’t bump my head as he rushes me into the seat, but it’s obvious my safety is his priority. The door slams shut, and I blink furiously as I watch Blake’s solid physique try to calmly walk around the front of the car, but his strides are rigid with annoyance, and even with each flash his eyes look like a dark forest of frustration. I think he might be on the verge of inflicting violence on anyone who might get in his way, but he’s surprisingly contained and determined with each step.

I’m still trying to figure out how we went from the calm of my bedroom to the chaos outside. None of it makes sense. What are all these people doing here, and why?

In the combination of clicks and feet shuffling, there were words, too. So many words. I think back on my quick journey here, and what I heard. There were questions with tones that demanded answers. I could hear our names the most.
 “
Blake Everett! Skyler Silva! How do you feel about Kathryn Caraway?”

My heart jolts for a myriad of reasons. It’s one thing
to know Blake’s name, but when did I become so relevant? And why mention Kathryn’s name as we come out of our front door? Jealousy makes an appearance as I think of Blake’s beautiful costar. The three of us mentioned all at once makes me uneasy. I try not to put any meaning to it, but then I remember her bright red lips against his skin, even though it might’ve been innocent. My blood sizzles, and I try for another pull of oxygen, even though my eyes are darting everywhere now. The crowd is calming, but that does nothing to slow the constant flashes. I keep trying to focus, but the bright lights make it difficult.

The driver-side door swings open and then closes with a fury once Blake’s inside. I want to say something, but I don’t know where to start. I worry my jealousy will somehow form words and get me into trouble if I try to speak.

Blake seems to be in the same mode. He turns the key in the ignition and shifts into reverse. I can tell he’s forcing himself to be patient when he presses the gas as I examine his clenched jaw. There are even paparazzi behind the car, which is what requires Blake to take his time leaving the driveway.

“
Fuck
”
 
sputters from his lips as he eases the car out, and the moment he hits the street and shifts into drive the flashes stop.

I’m focusing on my breathing and constant blinking, as if hoping I’m going to wake up, but pulling me out of the moment, Blake snatches my hand from my lap, tangling his fingers in mine as he rests our hands against my bare thigh.

When we make it onto the main road he exhales, and it’s as if it’s his first breath since opening the front door.

I want to ask him if he’s okay, but it feels like a stupid move. I’ve already asked him that tonight.

Shocking me, he turns my way when we stop at a red light, and I almost think he’s trying to see if any cars are following us, but his eyes stay locked on mine as he says, “Change of plans.”

I don’t understand, and he must read my tightly scrunched brows when he chuckles.

“Blake, did you expect that back there?” His incredulous reaction to what we just went through throws me.

He shakes his head, turning back to the road as the light turns green. “Not at all. I don’t know why they were there.”

I think he’s going to say more, but he doesn’t. I lean forward and notice the etched lines of anger marking his face with the passing streetlamps.

He beats me to the punch. “Are you okay?” he asks, and I’m momentarily bitter that he can ask that question, and I feel like I can’t, but then again, I want to answer.

“I don’t know how I feel right now. My head is sort of . . . spinning, I guess.”

“Mindfuck, right?”

“Mindfuck?” I hum, tossing my head back and forth, testing the word, not being able to hide my comical smirk and a skirting giggle. “Mindfuck,” I repeat. “That’s exactly what this feels like.”

“It’s okay, we made it through. I’ll have to talk to Josh about getting some way to manage them on the property. I don’t know what the protocol is here, but I don’t want them to ruin our night.” His tone is brusque, and I know this whole thing bothers him more than his words imply.

I squeeze his hand. “I guess it was bound to happen. I just wonder what triggered their interest.”

The moment those words leave my lips I ache for my textbooks. I want logic and set schedules and memorization. I ache for that sense of control and structure. This feels out of my realm of understanding. I always considered myself an abstract thinker, but this really does feel like . . .
a total mindfuck
.

I think I see Blake flinch when I speak, but I can’t tell if what I notice is the result of him releasing my hand to make a hard right into a parking lot, or it’s something else entirely. I don’t want to see things where they aren’t, but it feels like tension hangs over Blake like a looming cloud, and I’m desperate to know why. That’s if my instincts are right, and I hope I’m wrong.

I gulp down my nerves, shaking my head.

Trying to focus on something else, I look around, realizing I wasn’t paying attention to our journey.

Our original dinner plans are
 
out. So, what’s
 
in? The parking lot is dingy and dark and in a neighborhood I surely don’t recognize.

“What are we doing?” I reflexively keep rubbing my palms over my thighs. They won’t stop sweating.

“We’re dropping the car off here.” He pulls into a parking spot and turns the engine off.

With us far from the chaos of our driveway and the radio turned off, the silence is overwhelming now. He pulls out his phone, quickly types something, and then shoves it back in his pocket.

I release a long breath that fills the void.

Blake grabs my left hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss my fingertips. “How you holding up, Skye?”

Usually, I’d hate that he’s checking up on me so frequently, but right now I’m thankful.

His lips continue to sway softly, back and forth against my fingers, and I have to admit, it definitely helps. “I’m better.”

“Good. I didn’t plan this part, obviously. We’re getting a cab. I just texted a company that’s on their way.”

My brows knit between my eyes for the umpteenth time tonight. Reading my look, he adds, “To avoid any more cameras or being followed.”

I nod through my disbelief that this is something we actually have to do.

“It’s gonna be fine. Nothing will ruin this,
 
us.
 
I won’t let it. So, let’s take this moment to forget what we just went through. I want us to talk, to laugh, and to enjoy each other. None of that other stuff matters, and it never will.”

Can hearts sing? Because my heart is currently belting out an opera.

Finally, I smile. “Okay.”

His grin is back in full Technicolor, and I lean over so my lips can capture his. His mouth is my soul’s remedy to anything and all things that cause my world to shift, because right now, this moment, he grounds me, no matter what. It’s a dangerous thing, my heart notes, because it’s like an elixir, or the Holy Grail. You worry it’s based on myth or folklore, but you know the truth and its existence. Then you worry what would happen if this magical
 
thing
 
ever disappeared. It’s too precious, too priceless, and nothing would ever be able to replace it. I’d wander the world like the knights of King Arthur forever to find it if I had to, but lucky for me, it’s right here. Blake is right here.

Honk. Honk
.

He pulls away just that little bit to speak against my lips. “Cab’s here, babe.”

I hum, knowing I have to let him go. “Fine, but where are we going?” I smile and I can see that his eyes turn that inviting, lush color I know them to normally be. The color that tells me he’s okay. The color that tells me he’s in love.

“It’s a surprise,” he replies, still nose to nose, lips to lips.

“I can’t tell if I like surprises anymore,” I groan, trying my best not to recall the mob at our house.

Recognition flickers in his eyes, but the arching of his lips has me releasing the nerves that back up my words.

“You’ll like this one,” he replies before pressing one last possessive kiss against my lips.

***

When we approach the open doorway that stands in the brick of a looming, deserted city block, I examine the bright pink-and-blue neon lining the door frame. I try to figure out where we are. The neon tubing reminds me of a bar we were at months ago, but this one has a grungier, underground feel to it as I examine the doorway and concrete surrounding it. It’s almost an inconspicuous location with no real signage except for the glowing doorway and the hum of laughter and bass coming from inside.