Page 13 of When I Was Yours


  “Semantics. And you know how people love a good rags-to-riches story. Anyway, it’s not a biographical film. But Mandi would be perfect for the part with her being a talent-show winner. She has a huge following here and internationally. She can actually sing, so we wouldn’t need a voice-over. She’ll be perfect for the part.”

  “And what does this have to do with me?”

  “Well, the studio’s been struggling these last few years. We haven’t had a box office hit in a long time. A lot have been straight-to-DVD movies. You would know all of this if you paid attention to the business that will one day be yours instead of wasting your time out here, on the beach, playing with your little surfboard.”

  “Were you in any of the films?” I ask her.

  “A few. Why?”

  “That’s why they flopped. You’re getting old, Ava. People don’t want to see you on-screen anymore.”

  Her lips press together. So, tightly I’m surprised they haven’t turned blue.

  Wow. What she needs from me, she must really need because she didn’t bite.

  “The studio needs a big hit, and this film will be it. Your father had a meeting with Mandi and her people the other day, and she’s close to signing on for the film. But she has a condition…”

  “Which is?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” I laugh. “What does she want me for?”

  “Well, you know how she’s always had a thing for you...” She lifts a brow.

  “You can’t be serious.” I push off the wall. “She wants me? For what?”

  “To date, I’m guessing.”

  “Why? I’m sure she’s not struggling for dates nowadays.”

  Ava shrugs. “I have no clue. But she is fixated on having you. You always have been a beautiful boy, Adam. Maybe it’s that. But whatever it is, this girl wants you.”

  “Oh my God.” I drag my hands over her face. “You seriously want to pimp me out to this nutjob singer, so she’ll do a movie for Eric.”

  “I wouldn’t call it pimping out.”

  “No?” I throw her a look. “What would you call it?”

  “Oh, stop whining, Adam. Do you know how many boys your age would kill to be in your position? All I’m asking you to do is fuck a hot famous singer and keep her happy so that she’ll make the movie. Then, once she’s contractually bound to the movie, you can dump her ass and come back here to your little trailer-trash girlfriend. I don’t see the problem in that.”

  “The fact that you don’t see a problem is the problem in itself. You do know that Mandi is sixteen, right? You’re basically asking me to fuck a minor—you know, commit a felony, statutory rape.” I give a humorless laugh. I should be surprised, but I’m not.

  “So, don’t fuck her. Just keep her happy until she signs the contract.”

  I stare at her for a long moment, wondering how this woman is actually my mother, how I grew inside her for nine months, and how I somehow managed to come out normal—well, as normal as I can be after growing up with this fucking monster.

  “Are you seriously asking me to do this?”

  She gives me a look, telling me that she is.

  “You’re insane. I’m not doing it, Ava. No fucking way.” I turn from her, walking toward the kitchen.

  I need a drink. And there is alcohol here. I lied before. She just looked in the wrong place.

  “I think you’re forgetting your place in this family,” she snaps, cold and low.

  I whirl on her. “I think you’ve forgotten yours!” The words burst from me.

  Her eyes go wide.

  I never yell at Ava like this, and I never tell her no. I just do what she asks to make my life easier.

  But enough is fucking enough.

  She’s screwing with my relationship with Evie asking me to do this, and I won’t let Ava destroy what I have with her. I’m not losing Evie because of her.

  “You forget that I’m the next in line for this shitty fucking studio that you and Eric love so much! The day Eric dies, that studio is mine. Your career is mine. You’d do well to remember that, Ava.” My heart is pumping hard. My body shaking with rage.

  She folds her arms, her eyes like lasers on me. “You will do this, Adam. Or there will be no studio left to inherit. Your father has made some bad business decisions over the years, and the studio is failing.”

  I let out a dry laugh. “Like I give a fuck. Let it go to shit, for all I care.”

  I turn back away and get one step farther from her when she says, “If you don’t do this for me, then I will cut you off, dry. You’ll have nothing. No money. Nothing.”

  Ah, the age-old threat, the one that I’m wise to now. And tonight, I actually have the balls to say it, the thought of Evie giving me the courage.

  Slowly, I turn back to Ava and shake my head. “You won’t cut me off. And do you know why?” I take a step toward her. “Because you need me. You cut me off, and when Eric eventually dies—which won’t be long if he keeps up using drugs the way he is—with no son to inherit the studio, the studio goes straight to Uncle Richard. And you know how much he hates you. With Richard in control, your career will end as quickly as it began because Richard will put your ass out on the street. Then, all you’ll be is just another washed-up has-been who was once famous.” My chest is heaving. I’m so fucking angry.

  She stares at me for a long moment. If she looks could kill, I’d be stone-cold dead.

  Then, she picks up her purse and stands. “Don’t ever threaten me again, Adam. It would be a mistake to do so.”

  She turns and walks out of my house.

  I don’t breathe until I hear the front door slam shut, knowing that she’s gone.

  I’m shaking. I clench my fists in and out, trying to calm myself. My only thought now is being with Evie.

  I wait another minute, making sure Ava is gone, before grabbing my car keys.

  I climb into the McLaren and turn the engine on. “Hotel California” by The Eagles is playing on the radio, and I can’t help but laugh at the irony.

  That’s me. I can check out anytime I want, but I can never leave.

  I can come to Malibu and hide here for a year, but ultimately, I’ll go back because I have to. It’s my predetermined fate.

  I can never get away from the fact that I’m a Gunner.

  Hands gripping the steering wheel, I lean my head forward against them and close my eyes. I take deep breaths in and out through my nose.

  Evie.

  She’s my way out. She’s so strong, so full of life. She’s my light at the end of this dark fucking tunnel called my life. I can get out with her by my side.

  I lift my head, feeling a sense of purpose I’ve never felt before, and then I’m out of there and heading straight to her place.

  I’ve never driven so fast before in my life. I’m surprised I don’t get pulled over.

  I pull up with a screech of tires outside her building. I run inside, taking the stairs two at a time. I bang on her front door, trying to catch my breath.

  Her dad opens the door.

  “Mr. Taylor,” I say, out of breath. “Is Evie here?”

  “Adam, for the hundredth time, call me Mick.” He chuckles. Then, his expression turns a little more serious. “Is everything okay? Because Evie came home in a less than happy mood earlier.”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine.” Aside from my devil bitch of a mother turning up, and in my attempt to protect Evie from her, I ended up hurting her feelings.

  I hold his steely gaze, my own giving nothing away.

  He gives me a dubious look and then pushes the door open wider, standing aside, letting me in. “Evie’s in her room. And you know the rules. Door stays open.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Taylor—I mean, Mick. Hey, Case.” I wave to her as I cut through the living room, heading for Evie’s room.

  “Hey, Adam.” She lifts her head from her book, giving me a wave and a smile.

  I walk down the short hall toward Evie’s bedroom. St
opping outside her door, I hear the angry sounds of Christina Aguilera’s “Fighter” coming from inside her room.

  Definitely not a good sign.

  Taking a deep breath, I knock on her door.

  “I’m sleeping, Dad!” she yells. But her voice sounds off.

  I open the door, letting myself in. She’s turned away from me, facing the wall her bed is set against.

  “Hey, babe,” I say softly.

  Her body stiffens at the sound of my voice. Her response to me makes me feel ill.

  “Can I come in?”

  “What are you asking me for? You’re already in my room without my permission.” She sits up and turns the music off. Then, she presses her back to the headboard, her knees bent, arms around them.

  I examine her face. Her eyes are red. She’s been crying.

  My heart twists painfully in my chest.

  I move across the room, sitting beside her. “Evie.”

  I reach for her, but she wards me off with her hands.

  The rejection stings like a bitch.

  “I don’t know what just happened back there, at your house, but I didn’t like it. Max told me a little, that your mom is a bitch—his words, not mine—”

  “She is a bitch.”

  “I know you’ve told me before that she’s not a good person. But you never talk about your family. All I know is that your mom is Ava Gunner, the movie actress, and your dad owns a movie studio that will be yours one day, but you don’t actually want it. And that’s all I know.

  “Then, your mother turns up today, and I have never been more uncomfortable in my whole life. The way she talked to me—and worse, the things she said to you—it was awful, Adam. But what was worse was the way you treated me. You said that”—her eyes fill with tears again, her lip trembling—“I was nothing. A friend. Your friend, for God’s sake. Is what we’ve been doing what friends do? You told her that we’re not really seeing each other.

  “So, what was that, Adam? Your way of blowing me off? Or…or are you…are you just ashamed of me because I don’t come from money, like your family?”

  Tears openly run down her cheeks, and my chest feels like it’s cracking wide open.

  “Fuck no. Jesus, Evie.” I take her face in my hands, not letting her push me away this time, forcing her eyes to meet mine. “I could never be ashamed of you. I love you.”

  Her eyes go wide, blinking at me. “You…love me?”

  I take a deep breath. “Yeah, I do. Not exactly the way I envisaged telling you, but it’s the truth. I love you. I’m in love with you. And the only people I’m ashamed of are me and my mother. I’m sorry I said those things, but you don’t understand. Ava wrecks everything she touches. She’s poison. And I don’t want you anywhere near her. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you, Evie. You’re everything to me.”

  I press my forehead to hers, my eyes closed, and I just breathe her in.

  “You won’t lose me,” she says softly, her hands resting against my arms. “I’m in love with you, too, Adam. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Then, she kisses me.

  And nothing has ever felt so good in my whole life as hearing Evie tell me that she loves me.

  In this moment, I know that I’ll never recover from her, and I don’t ever want to.

  This is it for me. She is it.

  “You don’t have class today?” I ask Casey, not taking my eyes off the TV screen where Aria and Ezra are totally heating it up.

  It’s my day off, and I’m spending it watching Pretty Little Liars.

  I know my life is lame. People usually spend their days off with their friends or boyfriend, not in front of the TV with no other plans than that.

  But I don’t have any friends here, except for Angie. And she’s not a close friend, just a work friend. As for a boyfriend—ha!

  I’m currently in the middle of getting a divorce from the only man I ever loved…still love. But let’s not get into that right now.

  Back to Ezra…

  “Yeah, I’m heading out in a few.” Casey sits on the edge of the sofa, totally blocking my view of the TV.

  Sighing, I look around her. Holding up the remote, I pause it.

  “Where’s Dad?” she asks me.

  “The library.”

  “Again? Good to know he’s getting use out of the Kindle we got him for his birthday.”

  “Ah, cut him some slack. It’s good for him to get out and about. Anyway, I think he has the hots for the librarian.”

  “Really?” She lifts an eyebrow.

  “Yep. She’s pretty, too. I saw her when I went with him the other day.”

  Dad hasn’t shown interest in anyone since Mom died. It’s nice to see him recognizing that the opposite sex does exist again. Maybe I should take a page out of his book.

  I reach down and grab my water. After taking a drink, I put it back down.

  As I shift back to my spot, I see Casey staring at me. “What?” I say.

  “Are you…okay? You just haven’t seemed like yourself lately.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “It’s only ten a.m., and you’ve already polished off a tub of Chunky Monkey.” She taps the empty carton with her foot.

  “I was hungry.”

  “And the Cheetos?” She indicates the super-size bag on the coffee table, sitting there waiting for me.

  “Brunch.” I grin at her.

  “So, you don’t plan on moving at all today?”

  “Nope. Now, if you don’t mind”—I nudge her with my leg—“I have some TV to watch, and you have class to get to.”

  She doesn’t budge. She’s still staring at me. I know my sister. I know she’s considering saying something to me.

  “Come on, Case, just spit it out. If you want to say something to me, let’s get it over with, so I can get back to watching my show.”

  She tilts her head to the side, her blonde bangs spilling into her gray eyes. She has Mom’s eyes. Sometimes, she reminds me of Mom so much that it hurts.

  But it would hurt an awful lot more not to have Casey here.

  If only I could have Mom here, too.

  And Adam.

  Then, life would be totally perfect.

  But perfect and me don’t go together.

  “I heard you telling Dad that not long after we moved here, you saw Adam.”

  Every muscle in my body tenses.

  Casey knows Adam and I were married, and then we weren’t. And that’s all she knows, all she needs to know.

  “And?” I can’t help the frown that pulls on my face.

  “Well, I’d say that’s a pretty big deal, seeing the man you loved, the guy you married and then left a week later, after all this time. It had to have been at least a little weird.”

  “Not really.”

  “No? It would have been for me.”

  “It’s not a big deal because it’s ancient history.” It’s such a big deal that I could cry right now from just talking about it.

  “History can be painful to relive. I know something went down with him, and you’ve never really gotten over it—even though you’d never tell me,” she says pointedly.

  “There’s nothing to tell. We were married, and then we weren’t. And I got over it.” I sigh, looking at the wall.

  Lying to Casey sucks. I’ve always hated doing it.

  But sometimes, you have to protect people from the truth they don’t need to know.

  My life is one big, fat lie.

  Since the moment I told that first lie ten years ago, I’ve done nothing but lie since. It gets pretty tiring sometimes.

  “Sure you got over it,” she scoffs, folding her arms. “So, when was the last time you had a boyfriend again, Evie?”

  “Um…”

  “Exactly.” She laughs. “Last time you went on a date?”

  “Jesus, I don’t know!” I throw my hands up.

  “It was five years ago, and it’s the only date I can remember you going on. You only w
ent because it was a double date with Terri, that girl you worked with at the coffee house, and she’d set you up without you knowing. The last boyfriend you had was your husband.”

  “He’s not my husband.” Okay, that’s not exactly true. But I’m not telling her that.

  Dad knows, but Casey doesn’t need to. I told him after Adam came to see me. I needed someone to talk to. And Dad knows all the sordid history. I know I can trust him, and I can tell him anything without any judgment.

  But if I tell Casey, then I’ll have to explain a whole lot of other things that I can’t explain, things she doesn’t need to know.

  “Ex-husband. Whatever. But it must have been hard to see him. I might have been young and still sick at the time, but I remember, Evie. I remember how bad it was for you after we left Malibu and moved to San Fran. You were like a ghost for that first year.”

  I really don’t want to talk about this.

  “Seeing him wasn’t hard, Case. A little weird, yes. Hard, no.” The only thing harder was leaving him in the first place. “Can we stop talking about this now?” I can feel myself starting to crack.

  “Why? Because he was the love of your life?”

  “No, because I want to watch my show. And he was not the love of my life, FYI.” God, I sound like a teenager.

  “Sure. So, you just married some guy you kind of liked when you were eighteen years old?”

  “Puppy love. You’ve heard of that. Marrying Adam was a mistake, and I got over it.”

  “You’re such a bullshitter. You never got over him.”

  “Oh my God!” I blow up. “Yes, I did!”

  Sometimes, I feel like I’ve been more of a mother to Casey over the years than a sister. But it’s at times like this when I’m reminded that I’m definitely her sister.

  “You keep telling yourself that. But you’ve been acting weird since you saw him, and now, you’re spending your days off on the sofa with Chunky Monkey for company, which is on your face, by the way.”

  I touch a hand to my face, and yep, there it is. Ice cream smeared on my cheek. Classy. Lifting my T-shirt—which is actually Adam’s old Rolling Stones T-shirt that I had claimed as mine when we first started dating—I wipe the ice cream from my face.

  “Look, what is your problem here, Case? Why the big interrogation about Adam?”