Page 32 of Lost Love Found

“And then you ignore me! No texts, no new songs, no sign of life. And I miss you. I fucking hate it, but I miss you so much when you’re not around.” She closes her eyes tightly, like she’s concentrating on what to say next. “I couldn’t wait to see you today, and when I see you, you’re making out with three women, which is fine. Whatever. It’s your job. But the boob? Ugh! Oh my god, I could have lived without ever seeing your hand on a supermodel’s fucking perfect tit!” Her breathing is heavy, but she hasn’t given me the signal that she’s done yet, which is eye contact. She’ll look at me when she’s done.

She presses her forehead against the window, her breath fogging the glass. My stomach churns as I consider how she must have felt watching the other actors and me during that scene today. All of it is so carefully choreographed, but still intensely intimate. I wouldn’t be OK watching her do any of it. I don’t care if that makes me a hypocrite.

“What makes me the most maddest of all is that I didn’t even know how to feel watching that whole thing unfold. A little grossed out? Curious? Turned on? Like what the fuck am I supposed to feel when I see my friend in this situation?” My brain can’t decide what to focus on first. Her voice is high pitched and the fact that grammar has gone out the window tells me a lot about just how inebriated she is. But the thing that stands out is that Elaina sounds jealous. She had a hard time processing her feelings after seeing me today. After she came back from Paris.

“I've never done this before. There’s no hand job… book description… hand description? Ugh.” Her hands come to her lap with a slap. “Handbook. Job description. Those don’t exist for how to be a friend in these situations."

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me. Thank fuck she doesn’t hear or see it. That would really make her mad. And now her eyes finally come to mine. “You all done now?” I take a rogue curl and tuck it behind her ear, needing to see her face more clearly.

She nods. “I’m done. I hate being drunk. I’m so stupid when I drink, and I hate it.”

“Why did you drink so much, then?” The car stops and Elaina’s door opens a few seconds later. I get out on my side and meet her on the other side to get her into the building. She hiccups and nearly trips on the last step up to the doors.

I hold her elbow, but she keeps tripping over her shoes. “Fuck it.” I put one arm behind her knees, the other at her back, and lift her. She doesn’t fight me. Her hand comes to rest on my chest, her head on my shoulder.

When we get up to her apartment, I unlock her door and set her down. “Go get changed. I’m going to get you some water and painkillers. Have you eaten tonight?” She shakes her head so hard that her hair flies all around her face and then sashays away towards her bedroom. This girl is too much.

I take these few minutes to process what she said. Even if it might be the alcohol talking, something is happening here. Maybe my feelings aren’t one-sided. Maybe Elaina feels everything I’ve been feeling too. Well, not everything…

I’ve just finished getting water, pills, and some toast with butter so she can soak up some of this alcohol when she comes into the kitchen.

“I don’t wear pants to bed. You can’t make me. I put on some shorts, though, so you’re welcome. You won’t be seeing my ass or my tits tonight.” She waddles over to me and grabs the pills and a glass of water.

Her comment about not seeing her ass is debatable. The hem of her baggy T-shirt barely reaches the bottom of her tiny shorts. I say nothing, just watch her finish her glass of water and then refill it for her. I definitely do not look down at her long, smooth, toned legs.

“Is this toast for me?” She leans over the counter to reach for the plate and sure enough, her shirt rides up and there’s half her perfect ass straining against her tight shorts. Deep breath in. She’s your friend. And she’s very drunk.

“Mmmm. This is so good. Thank you so much.” Great. Now she’s moaning and licking her lips. Just perfect.

She finishes her toast and beelines for the bathroom. Uh oh. I hope she’s not going to be sick. When I walk closer to the bathroom door I hear her humming a song. I’m pretty sure it’s “Yellow” – the first song I added to our playlist. The song that I knew would always make me think of her and her bright smile. I guess she’s been listening to it. I have, too.

“Adam?” She peeks around the door, and I walk further down the hall to meet her. She’s standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. Her face is clean and I can smell her face wash. She’s perfect like this. Messy hair, pajamas and no make-up on. “I can answer your question now. Can I tell you why I drank too much tonight?”

“I want to know everything you want to tell me, L.” We smile at each other for a few seconds, and it feels like we’re back to being ourselves. Just friends. Friends who tell each other everything.

“I’ve been having nightmares. Again. I thought a few drinks might help me, because I'm so tired I don't know what else to do. I’ve even tried to just not sleep at all because as soon as I close my eyes, the nightmares come. Well, more like night terrors. And they’re awful. I either relive Andy’s and my dad’s deaths or it’s Owen and Raf being hurt or killed overseas. I haven’t told anyone yet and I wanted something to just knock me out, but I’m afraid it’s not going to work.” She’s looking down at her feet, playing with the hem of her shirt.

I swallow and lift her chin with my index finger. “I’ll stay here and make sure you don’t have nightmares. Would that help?” She nods twice and smiles a crooked little smile. I take her hand and walk her to her bedroom. She gets under the covers, and I tuck her in with a kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight, L.”

“Goodnight, Adam.” She closes her eyes as I turn off the lamp and head to the living room. Maybe I’ll just stay here tonight, or wait until she’s been asleep for a while to make sure she doesn’t have nightmares.

Half an hour passes, and Frankie and I both jump off the couch when we hear Elaina screaming. I sprint into the bedroom and skid to a stop in front of the bed. Lainey is curled up in a tight ball, her eyes are squeezed shut and tears stream down her cheeks. Sobbing uncontrollably, she screams out my name in terror.

I rush over and scoop her up into my arms, feeling her body quivering against me. I brush away the strands of hair that are matted onto her face and whisper her name. Her eyes flutter open and as soon as she sees me, her arms wrap around my neck tightly.

"Adam? Adam! You're OK? Oh my god. You're OK?" Her voice is shaky and trembling with emotion, sending a wave of pain through me.

"Yeah, baby. I'm OK. I'm right here," I reply reassuringly, stroking her back to calm her down. She releases her grip on me slightly but still keeps me close, her body shaking with sobs. I place a finger beneath her chin to tilt her head upwards so that she can meet my gaze. The fear in her eyes nearly breaks my heart.

Knowing there isn't much else I can do, I tuck Lainey back into bed and slip in beside her, allowing her to snuggle up against me as if seeking protection from whatever had scared her so much. "Please stay,” she murmurs into my chest.

"I’m not going anywhere," I reply softly, rubbing circles over the top of her head. "No more nightmares, L. I'm right here." Gradually, the trembling of her body stops and the rhythm of her breathing syncs with mine, indicating that she's finally drifted off to sleep, safe and sound in my arms.

My eyes flutter open, and I squint against the bright sunlight streaming in. Elaina is lying beside me, her head tucked into my chest and our legs entwined. The soft strands of her hair tickle my face as I inhale her sweet shampoo scent. I revel in the moment, savoring the feel of her body pressed against mine. Suddenly, she begins to move and wriggle, her hands roaming over my abs as a low moan escapes her lips. A thrilling shiver runs through me.

“Mmm, Adam.” A gasp. “Oh, shit. Adam?” She goes stiff and her grip on my shirt loosens as she tries to extricate herself from the tangle of sheets holding us together. “I’m so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Her face is burning with embarrassment as she apologizes. I kiss her forehead lightly, untangle our limbs, and let her put some space between us.

“Good morning, Tornerose. No more nightmares?” I sit up on the bed, arms behind my head.

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