Well, well, who is Ashlynn having brunch with? Time to find out.
Two songs for this chapter. The playful song for the beginning of this chapter is Two Princes by the Spin Doctors. The sad song for the latter part of this chapter is...Crying, originally by Roy Orbision. I like the Christina Perri cover on YouTube...
Ashlynn
The last fifteen minutes were easier. Greeting him at my townhouse door, having Kat jump into his arms, squealing with her easy exuberance, hearing him laugh like the old days. Grabbing my bag, having him open the door of the rental car for me like he's done hundreds of times, even that seemed somewhat normal. Taking up all the time in the short car ride navigating to the restaurant for him, him commenting on the sunny California weather even in late January, me slipping into the old routine of choosing the musicâall very easy. The hostess seating us, him asking me casually if I still took my coffee the same way, looking over the menu, laughing easily over his weird obsession with Canadian baconâhonestly, time could have stopped for us.
But now.
Now the coffee has been delivered, the orders have been taken, and I'm staring across the table at a man who used to be the boy I can't remember loving. I don't know what to feel. There's an echo. A sadness. A shadow of heartbreak.
Mostly I feel grateful that I can't feel the full force of it.
I guess mostly I am happy that Cam's eyes are bright and that his smile seems genuine, because the last few months I spent with him, I only remember his eyes filled with pity-love and sorrow. A smile that only existed to coax, charm and wheedle me from my bed or from my haze.
The silence is not as uncomfortable as it could be, I guess. He's staring at me, taking in every aspect of me with his bright eyes. If a stranger examined me this closely I would blush, but with Cameron it doesn't bother me. He's seen all of me more times than I can remember.
He shakes his head and laughs. He reaches to my temple, to the tiny pin pricks that are visible because I had an acupuncture appointment yesterday afternoon. "Here?" he says. "Where else?"
I touch my neck, my wrists. "I honestly don't know if it's the acupuncture or the yoga that stops the headaches. I started them together, and they work so well, I'm afraid to isolate them..."
"Don't," he says quickly. "You've found the treatment that works. Don't alter it, as long as it's working."
I giggle. "Dr. Martin doesn't want to know the true curative? That doesn't sound like the Cameron I know."
"Your health is not a medical trial," he pats my hand. "Ashlynn, I am so..." he shakes his head. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you whole. So vibrant."
"You, too," I whisper, taking a brief sip of coffee to restore my courage. "Cam, I'm so sorry for everything I put you throughâ"
He pats my hand, cutting me off. "You were sick, Ash. None of it was your fault. I only blame myself, for not finding the answers for you." His dark eyes focus beyond my face in wistfulness. "I'm sorry, Ash. There is not a day that went by for years, that I didn't wish I had been stronger, that I hadn't looked at things differently. It's so damn crazy that Trace Gallant turned out to be the guy that did."
I smile into my coffee. Cam doesn't know the whole story. He knows that Trace married me in a desperate attempt to rehab me, took care of me for the last few years, spent crazy amounts of money trying to keep tabs on me while I ran from him for a year. He knows about the car accident that forced me to stop running from Trace. He knows Trace stood by me in that last, awful detox and re-united me with my parents. He thinks that Trace was responsible for sending me to the holistic rehab in Florida.
He doesn't know anything about Leed. He doesn't know that Leed called the rehab, secured me a place, convinced me to go. He doesn't know that Leed made me hope, and then believe, that I could live drug and pain free.
"Cam, can we talk about something else? Everything that happened with us, and with Trace, it's all in the past for me. I'm just happy you and I can share space and smile at each other," I say softly.
He takes my hand again, squeezes gently. "Sure. So tell me about your Yogi apprenticeship."
"After you tell me how your UCLA interview went," I counter. That's why he's here in LA, interviewing for a residency program.
"It went well, I think." He frowns slightly. "But it's not on my dream list. There are so few places where Michaela and I can both match for residencies. It's a little...nerve-wracking, you know? Knowing that we only have a couple of common programs for her oncololgy specialty and for my surgery specialty." Newly graduated doctors don't have a whole of choice where they end up for the residencies, thanks to a complicated match program that ranks the residency program's top applicant choices against the requests that the graduate makes, and basically determines their fate for the three years of their residency.
"So what happens if you don't end up at the same hospital?" I don't ask if they will put the wedding on hold...that seems too personal.
He shakes his head wanly. "I honestly don't know, Ash. We are just hoping we both get offered residencies in the same city at least. Even then, one of us will probably have to make...a sacrifice."
Now it's my turn to pat his hand. "I think it will work out for you, Cam. If anyone deserves happiness, it's you."
My phone rings, just as draw my hand back. I flip it over. It's Leed. I know it's rude to take his call right now, but I can't help holding up a finger to Cam and saying, "Excuse me just a minute." I rise from the table, walking toward the corner of the terrace.
"Hi," I say.
"Hi yourself, Hotness." Leed is purring.
I laugh. "It's a little bit early in the day to bring the bedroom voice, isn't it?"
"Can't help it, when I see you holding hands with some other guy, it makes me jealous."
My spine stiffens. "What?"
"Good-looking dude. Even better looking than Gabe. Who is he, anyway? You know whatânevermind, I'll just introduce myself. You don't mind sharing your coffee until the waitress brings me a cup, do you?"
I whirl back around to see Leed striding forward like the rock star he is, dressed all in black, dripping sex into puddles of sin at 10am. He's shoving his phone in his pocket, twirling a third chair single-handedly toward our table while he offers Cam his other hand. I scurry back to the table like I can stop the train from derailing just as Leed says, "Leed Lawson, Ashlynn's close personal friend. And you are?"
"Leed!" I chide. He winks at me as Cameron rises and grasps his hand.
Cameron is no rock-star, but he's no shrinking violet either. All alpha males rise when challenged. "Cameron Martin," he says, like he needs no introduction. "Nice to meet the voice of Soundcrush. Great job you do there."
These two are sizing each other up, giving each other the flex handshake while burn creeps slowly up my chest.
"Cameron Martin," Leed repeats, and there is something in his tone I have never heard. Something primal, something slightly dangerous. Leed lets go of Cameron's hand to pull my chair out for me, and when he looks at me, his voice is once again smooth. "I was just on my way to your house to ask you to join me for breakfast, in this very restaurant, when I saw you two strolling in. Serendipity, you already being here, and I thought to myself...any friend of Ashlynn's should be a friend of mine. You don't mine if I join you, do you?"
"You cut your hair," I blurt. He looks amazing either way, but the edgy styled cut is different and somehow exciting. Only when Leed chuckles and runs a hand through it, do I realize that wasn't an answer to his question.
Apparently, he takes it for a yes anyway. He gently guides me into my chair, flops down beside me, kicking an arrogant foot up to cross his knee and putting an arm on the back of my chair.
"Cameron Martin," he says again, staring at Cam. He turns his predatory gaze on me and his eyes are pure green. "Cameron Martin," he repeats to my lips. "So this is the boyfriend that cock-blocked me the first night I met you?"
"Leed!" I hiss in protest, but it's weak and we both know it. He chuckles. Again. I elbow him and slap a hand over my face.
"How's that?" Cameron's voice is deep, smooth as velvet, too. I peak through my fingers. He is suddenly cockier than I ever remember him, except maybe on a Friday night in high school, before he took the field to lead our team to victory.
"Funny storyâ" Leed begins.
"Not really," I cut in.
"I'm all ears," Cam tosses back, giving me a look that's wavering between playful, curious and suspicious. "I'd love to hear how my girl shot you down."
"Well, it wasn't so much a crash and burn. More like a very close fly-by. Right, baby?"
I burst out laughing. I can't help it. I do that when I'm nervous. "What? No." I shoot Cameron a nervous look. I don't know why I'm nervous or why I care-he left me after all, but I still don't want him thinking I cheated on him. I didn't. I wouldn't have, no matter how much I was attracted to Leed. Funny how I remember that attraction, but not all the loving feelings I felt for Cam back then. Suddenly I'm irritated at this whole situationâespecially Leed. "And don't call me baby." I poke him in the chest. My voice is high, nearing outrage at this ridiculous display of testoterone. I turn to Cameron. "I'm not his baby. He has a baby. And a baby mama."
"Yeah but my baby-mama is...not an issue. Not in that way," Leed waves away dismissively, "And you dig my little man, don't you?" he asks me softly, talking me up so close our noses are practically touching.
"Too much, considering I haven't seen more of him than pictures since he was a day old," I murmur back, then remember I'm being very rude to Cameron. "I'm sorry. This is crazy. Leed is...crazy," I try to explain.I glare at the red-headed bastard drinking my coffee, licking slighlty where my lip stick stain is, and winking at me. For the first time, I'm almost angry with his insane, arrogant, flirtation.
Cameron bunches his eyebrows and looks serious. "I'm getting that."
"Heyâ" Leed protests.
The waitress comes to take Leed's order. He rattles off an omelet made from free range eggs, goat cheese, organic spinach and tomotos, and kosher olives. Cameron and I both laugh at him, but he grabs my hand and puts it against his rock hard abs. "Good nutrition works, baby. You have no idea how well it works..." he drags my hand lower down his abdomen.
I pull away like he's a hot stove. "Oh my fucking god," I hiss at him.
Cameron crows. "You better back off, Lawson. If Ash is dropping f-bombs, she's really riled up."
Leed just grins at me, drags his lazy eyes down my heaving, blushing chest and says, "Yeah, she is."
I flounce back into my seat and try to sip my coffee with some composure. I need to calm down. This whole situation is ridiculous, and I have no idea what I'm feeling. Anger, but backed by something like pleasure that is creeping around the edges. Horror, but with tiny holes pricked in it, and something...happy is shining through. And that's ridiculous. Because Leed is acting like an idiot and he's ruining my breakfast with Cameron, whom I may never see again, and whom I wanted to see again. Very much. For his sake, not mine. I wanted to write-over that last days for him, I wanted him to see that I'm okay, that he didn't have to feel guilty anymore for leaving me when he couldn't help me.
Cameron doesn't look like his breakfast is ruined though. He pokes a round of Canadian bacon in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. "Back to this funny cock-blocking story. Do tell. Water under the bridge, but news to me," Cam grins, shoveling in eggs behind the bacon.
"Well, it was my Junior Year at UGA. You were a freshman at Duke, right Sunshine?"
"Don't call me that," I hiss. He's making us seem like we are involved, and I haven't even seen him in two months.
It's Leed's turn to frown. "Come on, nowâdon't be embarrassed. You love that nickname." He turns to Cameron. "I gave her that nickname that very night, because she wouldn't tell me her name. She was very flirtatious. Made me work for her name. And the kiss..."
"We did not kiss," I point an accusatory finger at him. "If you are going to tell the story, don't lie."
"Ah, but did you not tell me just two months ago that you wished we had?"
I stand up and beat his shoulder with my napkin. "Oh my god, Leed!!!!"
Leed reaches out and snatches my hand, prying loose the napkin and kissing my hand. I'm so shocked, it stops my fury. "I'm sorry, Sunshine. You're right. That was personal. I shouldn't have said that in front of your ex-boyfriend."
"No you shouldn't have," I growl.
I try to pull my hand back, but he kisses it again. "Forgive me?"
His antics have drawn attention. I see a couple of people with phones, recording. "You've been made, Rock Star," I tell him softly.
"Are you gonna forgive me or do I have to get down on one knee? That'll be a helluva storyâit will look like I'm proposing. Paps will make you and be at your door in two hours..." he warns.
"Are you extorting forgiveness by threat of paparazzi?" I ask incredulously.
"No, I guess I'm begging," he says grimly and slips from the chair, starting to sink on one knee.
"Okay, okay, I forgive you," I hastily push him back in the chair and drop into mine.
Cameron is looking between us his expression changed from cocky amusement to something like...concern. "Ash, are you really dating this guy?"
"No, he doesn't date," I say acerbically.
Leed gives me a sneering look and snaps my napkin crisply, returning it to my lap. "We are negotiating the terms of a mutually beneficial relationship," he tells Cameron.
Cam frowns and looks at me. "What does that mean?"
"Remember his baby-mama? She was his friend with benefits for..."I wave an impatient hand. "Forever, I guess. She quit him and married another man and now he's looking for a new friend. He has some crazy, misguided belief that I'm going to be that friend, and watch him step out with fangirls and Victoria Secret Angels when he's feeling friendly with them, too. He's wrong." I say the last two words emphatically, leaning forward in his face.
Leed strikes like a viper, pecking my lips. I pull back, shocked. He grins. "Now who's lying, Sunshine? You know very well that I'm open to negotiation on the terms of our...arrangement. You said no fangirls, no other friends, and I'm cool with that...on a trial basis. Can't make forever promises, but I'm open to trying it your way..."
I don't know if it's the buzz on my lips or my brain reeling that is more uncomfortable. "I...you...we...never said that. You said you weren't there."
Leed washes down omelette with coffee and shrugs nonchalantly. "Hmmmm...I had a lot of tequila that night. Maybe my words were unclear. I meant, we'd get there, after the kids was born and the dust had settled." He looks at Cameron. "Anyway, she's right, we did not kiss that fateful December night five years ago, when she was still your girl. You tell the story Sunshine, since you are too riled up to eat. I'll embellish as needed."
I look helplessly at Cameron, whose concern has deepened. "I'm sorry," I say helplessly. "He's..." I gesture at Leed.
"Yeah," Cameron says grimly, but he smiles at me. "So that weekend you went down to visit friends at UGA and came back all furious with Trace for giving Kat beer at a party? You met...this" he opens a hand toward Leed, but like everyone, he seems begrudgingly amused by Leed. "I mean, him?" he corrects himself.
"Yes. The party where Trace gave Kat her first beer was at Leed's rental house. He cut his hand that night. It was deep. I patched him up. He convinced me to have a shotâ"
"Three" Leed interjects, holding up the fingers to illustrate.
"Fine, a few shots with him. He was mainly just trying to distract me so Trace could flirt with Katâ"
"That's not true," Leed is looking at his plate, cutting his omelet. "I would have cut my finger clean off to get your attention. I drank and flirted with you just to make you smile."
"Fine. Whatever. He tried to kiss me, I stopped him. I told him I had a boyfriendâ"
"Youâ" Leed points his knife at Cameron.
"Yeah. Me." Cameron grins at Leed.
"And that was it. I didn't talk to him anymore that night. Or ever again, until after you and I broke up and I came to LA, looking for better drugs."
"And he gave them to you?" Cameron asks, getting the wrong impression.
"Fuck no," Leed growls, all his playfulness evaporating in two syllables. He puts his utensils down and grips the edge of the table. "Since we are telling stories of the old days, I'd like to hear a couple. How about the one where you weren't there to protect her from getting her brain bashed by Trace's drunk and abusive step-dad? Or the one where you dumped a sick girl you claimed to love because she was messing with your med school plans?"
"Leed!" I grab at his arm, trying to pull his predatory gaze away from Cameron, but he just puts his other hand over mine and keeps glaring.
Cameron stares back, but his look doesn't have the heat of Leed's. He looks...sad, and thoughtful. "You aren't crazy after all, are you?"
"No. I'm very, very sane. And very, very protective of people I care about." He jerks his head toward me. "There aren't many that fall into that category, but she became one of them, the first night I met her. Girl I didn't know, rummaging my apartment to find something to patch up my finger with, because she could see I needed stitches and I couldn't afford a trip to the ER. She super-glued my finger...easy...without making me feel bad, like it was nothing to be that poor, even though she had probably never been in a dump like that with people that rough in her whole life. She's fucking beautiful, man and it comes from the inside. How could walk away from that kind of light? Because she was hurt? Because she was desperate in her pain, trying to cope in the wrong ways? What kind of asshole are you?"
Cameron and Leed stare at each other. I put my hands over my mouth, trying to keep everything in. Part of me wants to crawl under the table. Part of me wants to scream at Leed for making this scene.
Part of me wants Cameron to answer Leed's question.
Finally, he does. He blinks and his angry glare disengages, and he looks...like the boy I used to know. "The cowardly kind," he says quietly, his eyes never leaving Leed's face. "They call you the Lion, right? I hope you are the brave kind. Braver than I was at twenty-two. Because you are rightâshe deserves more than another guy who walks when life gets rough." Cam rises, tosses some twenties down on the table and I find myself following jerkily to my feet.
"I'm sorry," I say behind my fingers, my breathing hitching in advance of tears. Cam shakes his head quickly, smiling at me, reaching easily to embrace me.
"Don't be," he whispers in my ear. "I am so happy to see you today. To see you healthy. To see you...cared for. Please be careful, Ash. Take good care of yourself, okay?"
Leed makes a sound somewhere between disgust and a growl as Cameron kisses me on the forehead, looks me in the eye and says, "I just wanted to see you healthy. I had no plans to open old wounds, but here we are, so...I just want you to know... I'm so goddamn sorry. I was so young, and I made mistakes, but I swear, I did love you. I just...didn't know how to make you better, and I got so scared I would love you forever and you would never feel anything again. I ruined it, and it's too late, but...I feel like...I should say good-bye, because I was a coward, and I never did." He rubs my cheek. "I wish you...so much happiness. So, so much. Good-bye, Laney."
He's the only person who has ever called me that. My middle name is Elaine.
Suddenly it's all there. And it hurts.
I did love him. I started abusing my medicine to stop feeling that love, because I loved him and I knew my condition was hurting him.  I used and used and used until I couldn't feel anything anymore. I loved him and I pushed him away and he went, and I then I never really stopped using after that.
I feel it now.
The tears pouring down my face could be blood, spurting directly from my broken heart.
I stumble away from him, turn and flee the restaurant. It's only three blocks to my apartment and I run.
I run the whole way, but I can't outrun the feeling of my heart breaking, slowly, excruciatingly bit by bit. The day Cameron finally disappeared, saying he needed a break from the darkness of my room. Every day after when he didn't come back.
I slam the door, lock it, run upstairs, lock my bedroom door and pace and scream and cry and hold my head, and pace and cry some more.
There's banging on the door downstairs but I ignore it because my heart is clanging louder in my chest.
Clanging in disorder, like it will never work right again.
A crashing sound and then heavy footfalls on the stairs, a soft knocking on my door.
"Ashlynn, baby, please...open the door."
I don't open it, but the knocking and the gentle pleas don't stop. They go on for what seems like hours.
Finally, an idea overtakes me. One I can't shake.
There is relief, to stop the pain. Relief is on the other side of the door.
I open the door and throw myself into Leed's arms. "It hurts." I sob. "It hurts. Help me."
"Your head?" I hear the panic in his voice.
I shake my head and put his hand on my chest. "It hurts so much...and I need to make it stop...please..." My other hand feels his left pocket, seeking.
He pulls my hand away. "I know what you think you want right now," he says softly. "But you can't have it."
He pulls me to the bathroom and flushes the weed from the tiny wooden box in his pocket. He opens the window and throws his pipe and the box into the dumpster behind my building.
"You can't have it. It's gone. I don't have any drugs, and I'll never give you drugs, do you understand? Not for your head, not for your broken heart."
"I hate you!" I pound his chest. "I hate you for this. This is your fault! I would have been fine. I would have gotten through it fine! This is your fault!"
"Maybe," he agrees "But it's probably for the best."
He gathers me in his arms. I yell at him some more until I start to cry again. He walks me to my bedroom, slams the door and pulls me down onto the bed, scooting us back against the headboard, giving me tissues that he must have grabbed in the bathroom.
I cry and cry, until my head does start to hurt. When I confess that pain to him, he says, "Of course it does. You've cried for three hours." He slips away, leaving me limp and lifeless on the bed.
He returns with a bottle of water and two Ibuprofen. "This is all you need, do you understand? Your therapy is working, this is just a regular headache from crying and dehydration. You've got more snot on me than you've probably got water left in your body."
"Shut-up," I sniffle. "I hate you."
"Right. You've mentioned," he says dryly. He's rummaging through my underwear drawer.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?"
He closes that drawer and rifles another one, grabbing yoga pants and a top, tossing them into a sport sack hanging on my closet door.
He pulls me to my feet and pushes me protesting to the bathroom. "Let go of me!" I yell, trying to twist away from him. "What are you doing?"
"Splash some water on your face, Sunshine, or I'll do it for you," he growls, stalking back to my bedroom, muttering, "You need sunglasses..." I slam the bathroom door and lean against it. I don't need sunglasses, because I'm not going anywhere with him. All I want is for Leed to go away. Maybe I'll sleep, and maybe when I wake up, the cravings I feel will be gone. Maybe I won't feel like I need to get high to stop the pain anymore.
Or maybe I will.
Leed is back, opening the door, pushing me aside. "Go away!" I yell at him.
"Not happening," he says calmly as he pulls a hand towel from the rack, wets a corner and tries to clean my face. I put my hands up to block his. "Fuck! Stop it! Goddammit, Leed!" I yell at him, smacking his hand away hard.
His eyes fire. The Lion doesn't like to be challenged.
He pushes me against the wall and kisses meâhard, closed-mouthed, viscous.
My axis tilts. Confusion reigns. How can I be writhing on the inside from hurt over another man and burning on the lips for this one? I press my mouth closed tight and seal my hands against the wall to keep from pushing them through his hair.
He pulls back, smirking at me. He has managed to stop the curses coming from my mouth and my flailing hands, slapping at him.
He holds the towel up in front of me. I snatch it and move to the mirror, rubbing away the mascara tracks and snot.
Leed pulls away my headband, picks up a large-toothed comb and pulls it through my tangled hair, like I'm a child. He braids it loosely, and secures it with an elastic. He turns me around, carefully putting the sunglasses over my ears. He opens a drawer, rifles through it, and latches onto a tube, and the next thing I know he's swiping color on my lips as he says softly. "An amateur pap followed me here from the restaurant. I managed to talk my way in because the security guard recognized me and knows Trace is here every day, but the guy with the piece of shit camera is probably waiting at the gate for a picture of us."
"Just go away, Leed, please. I don't want to go anywhere and do yoga."
"I'm not going away, and we aren't doing yoga right now. That's later, if you feel like it. You know where I'm taking you right now," he says calmly. "I just need to know where we are going. The address."
I hang my head. I think about the day and the time, and mutter the address of one of several places I have come to know.
He drives around randomly, silently, losing the amateur free-lancer that apparently isn't experienced enough to tail us, and we arrive at the NA meeting place fifteen minutes early. He takes my hand across the console. "I'll be right here, after. I'm not going anywhere. Then we are going to my place, for yoga, or a swim, or to watch a movie or for ice-cream therapy or a nap whatever you feel like doing, to start getting over your break-up that you never dealt with in the normal ways. When Kat gets home later, I'll take you home. Okay?"
"Why?" I ask him hoarsely. He knows what I mean. Why is he babysitting me? Doesn't he need to be getting home to Ollie?
He reaches to me with his free hand, stroking down the back of my head and over the long braid. He lays it carefully over my shoulder. "Because I was arrogant and reckless and I didn't mean to cause your heart to break today. Because I see now, why you need to be treated carefully. And because...even though I might be scared of the things you need, I'm no coward, Ashlynn."
He kisses my hand again, this time not in play, but gently, hesitantly, almost like it pains him to do so. Then he leans across me and throws open the door, pushing me slightly . "Go, baby. You need this. You know you do."
He's no coward, he says. As I escape his penetrating gaze and flee into the meeting, I wonder if the coward in this situation is not Cameron, and not Leed, but me.
Oh poor Ashlynn and Leed. If Tam's not enough to deal with, now we begin to see that Ashlynn never really processed her break-up with Cameron, huh? Thoughts? Did Cameron do the right thing, asking to see Ashlynn to get some closure for them, or did he just create a crisis for Ashlynn that she doesn't need right now? Is she in danger of using again, or will she be able to put this setback into perspective?
How do you feel about Leed's response so far? What do you think will happen after Ashlynn's NA meeting? Stay tuned...next chapter is at Leed's house!