Page 57 of Finding Grey
TWENTY-EIGHT
______
DANTE
“If Connor is your fake boyfriend,” I began, “who the hell is Alan? Did you make him up entirely?”
“No.” Sean crossed his arms, eying me warily. “Alan could have been my boyfriend, if I’d gotten around to dating him before you showed up.”
“So, you and Alan never…” I gave him a questioning look, “got close?”
He shook his head. “We went on all of two dates, weeks ago. I never even kissed him.”
I put a hand over my mouth to hide the smile that broke out there. I was still annoyed at him for continuing to lie to me and smiling ruined the disgruntled attitude I wanted to project. “So, Alan is actually your fake boyfriend,” I pointed out. “Which makes Connor your fake fake boyfriend.”
“How long are you planning to harp on about this?” he asked with a weary sigh.
“Until you start telling me the truth.” Sean’s eyes slid closed and I took the opportunity to step closer. “You’ve been going to an awful lot of effort to keep me at arm’s length. Why is that?”
“Because you’ve got that whole super-powered pheromone thing going on,” he cried, gesturing at me. “It’s annoying.”
I frowned in confusion. “Huh?”
“Having a boyfriend was the only way I could think of to keep you away from me, okay?” He turned, putting some distance between us as his hands slid through his hair. It fell back around his face the instant he let go. “I have no resistance when it comes to you, I never have. And if you said you wanted me one more time—”
“I do want you.” I said the words quietly and he turned to look at me. “I can’t turn it off, Sean. And I know it’s not leading anywhere, I know I can’t have you.” I took a breath, my heart breaking at the thought of everything I wanted but couldn’t have. “The truth is, I’ve been yours from the night we met. It didn’t matter where I went, or how many women I screwed. In every way that counted for shit, I’ve always been yours.”
“Bullshit,” he growled. “Grey was nothing more than a fantasy you built up in your head. A security blanket you could wrap around yourself when you were lonely. You never cared about me.” Bitterness tainted his words as he shook his head. “If you did, you never would have—” He stopped short, with gritted teeth and fisted hands. “Fuck, I’m not doing this.”
“Finish the sentence, Sean,” I demanded. “Tell me what I’m supposed to have done to you?”
“You forgot about me!” His eyes were wide as he glared at me, and his body shook with the force of his anger. “Deliver my present in person, Grey. Meet me backstage, Grey. You asked me to come to you and I came running, like some lovesick fool.”
That’s what this was about? What happened, five years ago? “I tried to apologise for what happened,” I told him. “You said it didn’t matter.”
“Didn’t matter?” he yelled. “You humiliated me. You broke my fucking heart. Of course, it mattered.” His face twisted in derision. “I waited in line for you. I sat in some stupid meeting room, surrounded by the rubbish left from your after-party. All because I couldn’t resist the idea of seeing you again. But then your girlfriend showed up and you were all, Grey-who?”
My confusion increased with each word out of his mouth. “My girlfriend?”
“Not to mention, your father treated me like some psycho fanboy,” he continued. “I donotlike him.”
I froze. Dread settled over me, heavy and terrible. “You spoke to Roger that night?”
“Who do you think told me where you went? And with whom?” His gaze lifted to mine, hurt burning bright in those stormy eyes. “You say you want me to put myself in your hands, but we both know it’s temporary. You’ll cast me aside the second a better, more socially acceptable offer comes along.”
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s not what happened.” I tried to reach for him, but he backed away. “Sean, he didn’t tell me you were there.”
“I don’t believe you.” He shook his head in denial. “You have the shirt I brought to you that night. It’s proof you knew.”
“But I didn’t—” I stopped to take a deep breath. Yelling at each other would get us nowhere. I walked over to the daybed and gestured to the cushion. “Please, sit and let me explain my side of the story.” He hesitated, and I came forward to take him by the hands. “Sean, you weren’t the only one hurting that night.”
He stared deep into my eyes, as if trying to gauge the truth of my statement. Pulling away, he went over to the daybed and sat down.
I grabbed one of the patio chairs and sat in front of him, so our knees almost touched. “You’re right. Grey was my favourite fantasy, an obsession really.” I’d replayed those few stolen minutes in my dressing room so many times the memory became a broken record in my brain. Before long, it came with extra tracks. In those, we did a lot more than kiss. “If I’d had the freedom to explore that part of me, the way you did, maybe I would have gotten over what happened between us. Instead, I uh, kept my dick dipped in pussy, like Roger told me to.”
“Ew.” Sean pulled a face. “He said that?”
“Often,” I said with a grimace. “But the birthday presents you sent, they kept the whole fantasy alive for me.” The woman who sorted my fan mail had recognised Grey’s name that second year and handed me the unopened parcel personally. By the third year, she kept an eye out for it, and there it was. “After I received the third box, I was determined to be in Brisbane when I turned twenty. Every box had a Brisbane post mark, so I knew you still lived here, and I hoped you’d want to see me.” I’d known Grey would have turned eighteen. Old enough to be corrupted by a rock star with a lonely heart and distrust where his soul should be. “It was a long shot, but if it worked… it would have been a dream come true.” I breathed a laugh. “My hands shook so bad by the time I sent the message inviting you to come, it took me three tries to get it right.”