Unravelled (Revealed #2) (15 page)

On very, very, rare occasions in the past I had woken up feeling like I’d had a small orgasm in my sleep, but as far as I was aware this was the first time that my body had actually joined in with the dream to such an extent.

Grabbing a tissue from the bedside table I wiped my fingers and flopped back, still shocked at how real that dream had felt. Mind you, my head had been full of thoughts of Sean before I’d fallen asleep, so I suppose it shouldn’t really surprise me that I had ended up dreaming about him. I was just a bit shocked at how erotic it had been.

At least it was better than imagining him having sex with Savannah, I supposed. Ugh, after dreaming the same sickening thing several times now I had started to panic that the skin-crawling dream of them sweaty, entwined, and humping rampantly was going to become a recurring nightmare. Dreaming about me having sex with him was far, far more preferable, and long may it continue.

Sighing miserably I ran a hand through my hair – it was Sunday morning, and after my text to Sean on Thursday night I had avoided calling or texting him since. That was three complete nights, and two long days without him. How I managed it I’m not sure, but I had. In that time, sleep had been evasive, leaving me feeling decidedly like an insomniac, although clearly from that steamy dream I was obviously sleeping at some point during the night.

I knew that some non-contact time would allow Sean to stew over his errors, hopefully making him repent his stupid decisions, but unfortunately, as well as letting him stew, it was torturing me too, because I was missing him like crazy and was desperate to meet up with him to see if we could sort out the issues between us.

Cait had to take most of the credit for my discipline over the last forty-eight hours though, because I would have crumbled and called him if she hadn’t provided near-continuous distractions. I’d been given a tour of the hotel neighbourhood, which was pristine, glitzy, and amazing. A tour of the hostel neighbourhood – which was fairly grimy, not that glitzy, and distinctly less lovely – and then she had kept me entertained with drinks out, walking in local parks, and playing games by the private pool at the bungalow.

All in all, I had barely been left alone for more than a few seconds so hadn’t had a chance to mope apart from when I was alone at night.

This morning I’d somehow managed to last until just before eight before I even considered rolling out of bed in search of coffee. The superking-sized bed, luxurious mattress, and Egyptian cotton sheets might have had something to do with my ability to snooze this morning, but the more likely reason was my exhaustion finally getting the better of me.

Rolling out of the bed I blushed as I felt the smooth dampness between my legs and recalled my dream again. I wasn’t a prude by any means – in my months apart from Sean I had sorted myself on numerous occasions when I’d felt horny – but still, I couldn’t believe I had done it in my sleep! Shaking myself out of my groggy, slightly embarrassed state with a full body stretch, I picked up my phone to check for any new emails.

To my surprise, there was a new text message alert on the screen. With slight trepidation I checked the sender and saw Sean’s name, but the date read as 10.49 p.m. last night. Frowning, I wondered how I’d missed it; I’d checked my phone before bed and hadn’t seen it. Pulling in a deep breath I opened the message and skimmed my eyes across it.

From: Sean

I’m trying to be patient, Allie, but I can’t take this any longer. I need to speak to you. I’m on the film set tomorrow until four, but I promise to call after that, please answer. Goodnight, my gorgeous girl. Sleep well. xx

Sleep well? Huh! Hardly. Although, I had woken up rather pleasantly, I thought with another blush. Allowing myself a small smile I decided that I liked the fact that he’d upped his usual one kiss to two. For some reason that made me ridiculously happy and I held the phone tightly against my chest, trying to absorb some of his reassuring warmth from the cold plastic.

The space and time, although torturous, had at least made me feel ready to speak to him. I loved him, and believed him, so all I needed now was his reassurance that this engagement situation wasn’t going to last for too much longer. When he called later today I would answer his call and be calm, level-headed, and sensible. Perhaps all this stupidity with Sean, Savannah, and me would be behind us quicker than I’d expected. At least I hoped that would be the case.

Delving in my suitcase, I pulled on a loose T-shirt and some pink running shorts before leaving my bedroom and navigating my way towards the bar area in our bungalow on a quest for caffeine. The bar was complete with marble top and two leather stools, but as well as a vast selection of alcoholic beverages it housed a smart coffee machine, which was my focus this morning.

I would have thought that eight in the morning was quite an early hour for a seasoned traveller like Cait, but she was already sitting by the bar reading her book, as she had been both previous mornings too. I suspected she had been getting up early on purpose to make sure I had company if I was feeling low, which was really rather sweet, and a very Cait-like gesture.

Seeing her sipping at a steaming mug I licked my lips in anticipation – hopefully that meant there was a fresh pot of coffee waiting for me somewhere.

‘Morning, sweetie,’ Cait crooned when she saw me. ‘Coffee?’

‘Yes please. Morning.’ Slipping onto the second stool along the bar I watched greedily as Cait filled a large mug for me, topped it with milk, and then handed it across. ‘God, that smells amazing.’ Lifting the mug of delicious-scented nectar to my lips I sipped and groaned in near ecstasy. ‘And it tastes even better.’ I sat in silence for a few moments, letting the bitter taste dance over my tongue before commenting, ‘You’re up early again.’ Placing my mug down I glanced up at Cait to find her studying me closely. A flush crept onto Cait’s cheeks and she shrugged, feigning casualness.

‘I was worried about you. I thought after your … jet lag … that you might be up early, so I decided to get up and keep you company.’ I translated that to ‘I thought after your shitty week you might not be able to sleep so have been getting up early to make sure you weren’t moping around pathetically’. Even with her dreadful lie I appreciated the effort and smiled gratefully.

‘Thanks, hun. I’ll be OK.’

‘No problemo. So, you got any plans for today? It looks like the weather is going to be glorious again.’

‘Um, no. I’m expecting a call this afternoon, but apart from that, nothing. I was hoping to keep myself busy again, do you have any ideas?’

Plonking her mug down so some coffee slopped over her hand and the counter, I saw Cait’s eyebrows rise. ‘Back up there, lady. You’re expecting a call?’ Her tone made it obvious that Cait wanted the gossip, and so with a sigh I explained I’d had a message from Sean last night, and was now expecting to speak to him this afternoon.

‘It sounds like a step in the right direction,’ Cait agreed with a pleased nod as she licked some coffee from her thumb. ‘So, back to my plans for distraction. How does a bit more sightseeing sound? Starting with the best pancakes you’ll ever taste, squeezing in a few more landmarks, and finishing with some lounging on the beach?’

Smiling, I nodded gratefully. ‘That sounds pretty perfect to me.’

When Cait had said that I’d eat the best pancakes I’d ever tasted, I’d assumed she was going to cook them, but that wasn’t the case, and now, at just gone nine o’clock we were sitting in a booth in Blu Jam Café on Melrose Avenue, a place apparently renowned for its amazing pancakes. I was impressed with the décor; exposed brick walls and a high vaulted ceiling made for quite a stunning breakfast setting.

‘It’s just as well we’re relatively early, this place gets rammed later on when all the cool kids wake up with hangovers and sugar cravings,’ Cait told me as she sipped on her second coffee of the day.

Every now and then my mind would drift back to thoughts of my planned phone call with Sean, but when my pancakes arrived ten minutes later I quickly became engrossed in a blur of syrupy, blueberry, battered goodness and thought of nothing except how bloody good they tasted.

Placing down her knife and fork with a satisfied and rather inelegant grunt, Cait leant back and rubbed her stomach. ‘I swear they get better every time I come here.’ Grinning, I nodded, pleased to see Cait really tucking into her food for a change. She was too slim in my opinion, but then again, she always had been slender, so perhaps it was just her build.

Using my last bite of pancake to collect the remaining syrup on my plate I then popped it in my mouth, savouring every chew until it was gone. ‘They were amazing. You were right, best pancakes I’ve ever eaten,’ I confirmed as I licked the traces of sugar from my lips. ‘Let’s have five minutes to digest and then hit the sights.’

Just over twenty minutes later, Cait and I were staring avidly at the ground outside the Chinese Theatre. If the crowds out here were anything to go by, then this place must be one of LA’s most popular tourist spots. The forecourt was infamous for its amazing array of hand- and foot prints belonging to the rich and famous, but I’d seriously underestimated how exciting I’d find it. At this rate I’d have a bad back from the constant hunching as I read the names.

‘Look, here’s Harrison Ford!’ I yelped, dragging Cait across so she could look at the square containing his prints. I’d had a bit if a crush on Harrison Ford ever since I saw him in Indiana Jones. A bare-chested, whip-wielding historian with a wild side? What’s not to love? Crouching lower I couldn’t resist placing my hand in his print, where it was dwarfed by the imprint of his fingers. ‘Wow. Big hands and feet, you know what that means …’ I said teasingly, looking at Cait and seeing her flush.

‘Yeah. Big shoes,’ she replied dryly, refusing to rise to my bait. ‘Look, you can see from the sole print that he was wearing Converse like yours,’ she commented, probably to divert my rude comment. Cait always avoided conversations about anything remotely sexual; it was another one of her defence mechanisms. I would sometimes persevere in an attempt to get her to loosen up, but this time, her diversion worked a treat as I checked out his shoe marks and saw she was right.

‘Ha! I wear the same shoes as Harrison Ford! How cool is that?’ The fact that half the population of the world also wore Converse slipped conveniently from my mind as I placed my right foot into his indent and snapped a picture on my phone.

After taking several more photographs and even managing to jump onto a quick ten minute tour of the interior of the theatre, the two of us were back on the busy pavement outside. Glancing down the street, Cait suddenly drew in a quick breath and pointed urgently along the road.

‘Quick! That’s the bus we need!’ She took off at such a rate that I didn’t even have time to stop and ask where we were going, having to practically sprint to catch up with her.

Once we were on and seated with tickets clutched in our hands I exhaled in relief and leant back in my seat. ‘This is one of the Hop-On, Hop-Off tour buses, we don’t need many of the stops but it’s probably cheaper than keep paying for taxis.’

The bus was actually a really great introduction to the city, and I enjoyed a bit of people watching while we made our way past brightly colourful billboards, American diners, and wide, tree-lined boulevards. After about twenty minutes we passed by a very affluent neighbourhood of huge sprawling houses, which Cait informed me was called Cheviot Hills, and then began winding our way down towards the coast.

‘And this is Venice Beach,’ Cait announced as the bus pulled to a stop by a beach which stretched its beautiful, golden sands in either direction far as the eye could see. Jumping from the bus we stood for a second soaking up the view as a warm breeze tickled my skin. I smiled at how relaxed I suddenly felt. This place really was a perfect distraction from my troubles.

Peeling off my T-shirt I stripped down to the cooler vest below, but predictably Cait stayed as she was, in her tunic dress and three-quarter length leggings. I didn’t pass comment on the fact that it was roasting hot, because I knew the reason Cait didn’t expose great amounts of skin – her bastard of an ex. To be honest, the fact that she was wearing short-sleeves and knee-length leggings that not only uncovered her forearms but also the bottom of her legs was a pretty big step forward for her, because usually she was covered from top to toe.

‘So, do you want to walk, or sunbathe?’ Cait asked, but something over her shoulder caught my attention and after staring for a second I grinned like an idiot and spun Cait around to look with me. Behind some yellow and blue fences there was a vast array of tanned, toned, half-naked men lifting weights in an enclosure before us.

Wow-oh-wow. I had been so taken with the sea view that I had barely noticed this lot. It was certainly a heck of a lot of budgie-smuggling action in one small area. Not to mention some serious testosterone levels. I liked muscles on a man, but perhaps not quite this big. Jeez, some of these guys had boobs bigger than mine.

‘Oh, yeah. Uh … this beach is famous for its outdoor weights area,’ Cait stuttered.

Unfortunately, seeing the muscled men nudged my mind back to my own decently toned man. As I allowed myself to think about Sean for the first time in several hours I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked for any calls. Nothing. Admittedly, it was still only early afternoon, but as it was getting closer to the time of his proposed call I could feel my stomach tightening with nerves.

Leaving the weightlifting boys to their thing, we made our way to a quieter spot on the beach and decided to indulge in some sunbathing. It was certainly a nice change from the cold UK weather, but as we whiled away several hours lounging in the sand, I became twitchier and twitchier as my phone remained staunchly silent beside me.

As the afternoon dwindled to early evening and I still hadn’t had a call from Sean, I could feel my mood dropping lower and lower. Bloody man. I would not cave in and call him. I’d honestly thought he would stick to his promise to call me today, but it looked like he simply couldn’t be bothered with me after all. He was probably too busy socialising with his celebrity friends to even think about little ol’ me.