Who’s That Girl? by Celia Hayes (33)

When Your Heart Just Won’t Listen

“Are you nervous?”

“No. Why should I be?”

Maybe because everything seemed so simple before but now that I’m in his bedroom I want to run away screaming?

“Is it okay if I put some music on?” asks Al, looking around. He walks over to the closet and I stay sitting on the bed.

“I’m not sure the Smashing Pumpkins are the ideal soundtrack,” I say as I watch him rummage through his CDs.

“Who have you taken me for?” he replies, looking offended. “I was actually thinking about Metallica!” And he bursts out laughing at the worried look on my face. “Okay, no music,” he says, and comes back to me, taking me in his arms. “Can I kiss you or are you still angry with me?”

“No, I think I can forgive you,” I answer indulgently.

“Because I’m irresistible?” he asks, his lips brushing against mine.

“No, because you’ve got a motorbike.”

That was what I’d taunted Dave with before I kicked him out of my bedroom at the Golden Park Hotel…

“Ah… I knew that it would help me pick up chicks!” he laughs, before pushing his mouth against mine. His hands can barely wait to run through my hair before descending to my dress and trying to get it undone. He’s no longer particularly calm, and neither am I. I just wish it was all perfect, because he is the right one. In fact, he’s amazing, but there’s a small, annoying part of me that just doesn’t want to know about what’s best for me and keeps filling my head with pictures of me and Dave, who I’ve been desperately trying to forget about for days.

I can’t believe I’m actually thinking about Dave at this particular moment – I need to see a shrink or something!

“I can’t believe I’m about to take this off,” he whispers onto my neck as he slowly removes it. “You horrible, hateful dress,” he murmurs as he throws it away. “Never again will you keep me from…” and he looks at me in silence.

“Um… Al?”

“Sam…” he whispers, looking perplexed. “I’m sorry, really I am.” He puts a hand on his chest and starts shaking his head. And looking at him, all I can think is that he’s about to tell me that this could have been the biggest mistake of his life. I don’t know if I want to hear the rest, but I force myself to listen to him, hoping only to be able to retrieve my clothes without looking too awkward or just plain stupid. “But… I don’t think I’m going to let you get any sleep tonight,” he confesses, then bursts out laughing. I swear, I swear, that if he wasn’t so cute I would slap his face!

“I really have to stop listening to you,” I say, but when he embraces me again, I can’t help smiling.

“I want you.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious, Sam,” he says, looking me in the eyes. He takes my hand in his and, without saying a word, leads me to the bed and slips me between the sheets. He moves away from me for a second, just long enough to take off his blue sweatshirt and t-shirt, then comes back to the bed barefoot and lies down beside me with a look I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.

“Al…” I murmur, still a little tense.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, while his hand caresses me.

“I’m pretty lame at all this.”

“Okay…”

“And I don’t know how to do all those things?”

“What things?”

“Er, like… any of those things. Hardly any.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Try saying, ‘yes, Al’.”

“What?”

“Say it!” he says, pressing the tip of his nose against my cheek.

I surrender. “Yes, Al.”

He raises an eyebrow and gives me a look. “With a bit more conviction, please.”

“Yes, Al!” I repeat, trying to stay serious.

“Cool – you just learned 90 per cent of what you need to know how to do to sleep with me.”

“What, just always say yes?”

“That’s right!” he says, with an amused smile, then he starts touching me and caressing me as though this night is never going to end.

His caresses, his kisses and the words he whispers to me as he clings to me make my worries slowly fade away and disappear.

“Can I take this off?” he asks me with his usual thoughtfulness, tugging gently at one of my bra straps.

“Er… ok.”

“You don’t seem very certain,” he murmurs as his hands slip round to unhook it.

“I’m pretty embarrassed,” I admit. I can’t look him in the eye and I hide my face in my hands.

“What about?” he asks. “About this?” He takes off my bra and his lips begin to kiss my breasts. “Or maybe about this?” His hands slide down and begin to caress my hips. “Or this?” And so saying, he puts his hand down the front of my panties and touches me and I… I… instead of grabbing his hair and ordering him to immediately make me his, I for some reason decide that this is the perfect moment to start thinking about my life. And I think that if I let him go a little bit further down, all my plans will finish like this. With him, with Al. We’ll start dating, and that’ll mean that there won’t be room for anyone else, because he’s not like Dave. He won’t disappear tomorrow morning without leaving so much as a note. He won’t call me into his office to tell me that none of it actually meant anything, He won’t say things like, “We’re just friends, Sam. You don’t really think it’s going to happen again, do you? But if you want we can hang out sometimes. What are you doing tonight? Are you free? Because I’ve got a gap between Madeleine and Tiffany. We could have some fun and be done in time for dinner.”

Wait a minute, what am I doing? No, this can’t be happening. I’m completely naked with an incredibly hot guy – who, by the way, seems to adore me – between my legs and I’m letting Dave climb into my thoughts without my permission and ruin everything as usual?

Well, I have no intention of letting him! Okay, this is just a question of self-discipline. Don’t think about Dave. Don’t think about Dave. Don’t think about Dave.

“Who the hell can that be at this time of night?” murmurs Al suddenly, reminding me of where I am and who I am. “Did you hear that?” He gets up and stands immobile for a moment, listening. But apart from our breathing, there’s no sound at all.

“I didn’t hear anything. Did you call room service?” I ask, covering myself with the sheet.

“No,” he answers, looking slightly disturbed.

“Go and see.”

“No, it’s probably just someone who got the wrong room,” he says. But this time we both hear it. Two bangs on the door, and not gentle ones. “No, they haven’t got the wrong room. Sam…”

“Don’t worry,” I reassure him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

While I’m sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him to come back, I steal one of his t-shirts and put it on, and then after waiting a little longer, I stand up and tiptoe away to see what’s going on, wondering what the heck it can be at this time of night. He’s been gone way too long.

“Al… is everything ok?”

“Go back to the bedroom, he answers in a voice I’ve never heard him use. He sounds angry, but I can’t imagine why. I keep going and eventually I get to him. Standing before him is Dave. And I won’t try and describe the expression on Dave’s face when he sees me wearing only a man’s t-shirt.

“I told you to go back into the bedroom, Sam,” repeats Al, pointing to the door.

“Don’t talk to her like that.”

“And who the hell are you to tell me how to talk to her? What do you know about how to talk to people?”

“Try and tell her what to do one more time and I’m gonna break your face,” says Dave, jabbing at him with his index finger.

“Oh yeah?” says Al, clearly not intimidated by Dave’s threat.

“Okay, this is getting out of control,” I interject in an attempt to calm the waters. “Al, why don’t you calm down? Dave,” I turn to him, “believe me, he wasn’t being disrespectful.”

“Oh, really?”

“Right, I’ve had enough. This is my room, so get the hell out or I’ll kick you out!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got no intention of hanging around. Sam, get dressed – we’re leaving.”

“Sam’s not going anywhere,” says Al, putting himself between Dave and me.

“That’s not for you to decide,” snaps Dave.

“Or for you.”

“In fact, it’s for me to decide,” I cut in, in an attempt to remind the pair of them that I exist.

“I’m not leaving without Sam.”

“Oh, you’re leaving alright, and just be grateful that she was here, otherwise I’ve have knocked those teeth of yours down your throat.”

“Al, please, why don’t you let us talk for a minute?” I suggest.

“There’s nothing to say. All you have to do is get dressed. My car’s parked outside, I’ll take you home,” replies Dave, who doesn’t seem much inclined to discuss things. He looks tired and his shirt’s crumpled.

“Just what the hell do you want? You had your chance and you threw it away. She’s with me now, get used to it,” says Al, throwing his arms out angrily.

“I don’t think so. Not after she’s heard what kind of lowlife you are,” answers Dave, still looking him in the eye.

“Me?” asks Al with an incredulous laugh. “I’m the lowlife? Oh, that’s a good one.”

“Dave, cut it out,” I say. “And there’s no reason for you to be here.”

“We’ll talk about it in the car. Now do me the courtesy of getting dressed – it’s late and your mother will be worried.”

“My mother? What the hell has all this got to do with my mother? I’m not sixteen!”

“No, you’re just acting like you are,” he says.

He seems to have completely lost his head, but he’s not the only one. Suddenly, Al grabs his shirt and starts dragging him towards the door. “I told you to get out, are you deaf?”

“Oh God… Al, Al wait,” I murmur. I raise a hand theatrically but it’s futile.

“Get your hands off me!” snaps Dave, pulling himself free. He turns round and gives Al a shove, pushing him – probably without meaning to – against the wall. I watch impotently from the other side of the room as Al rubs his shoulder, then pulls himself up to his full height and swings a punch that sends Dave crashing to the floor like something out of a movie.

“Oh, my god, Dave!” I shout. “Dave…” I run over to try and help him and, terrified, feel his face and head. When I touch him, though, Dave jerks away, gets painfully to his feet and pulls his shirt back into place.

“Dave… Dave, are you okay?” I ask him anxiously.

“Why, do you care?” he answers as he checks his jaw isn’t broken.

It’s a question I can’t answer, because as much as I might wish I didn’t, unfortunately, I do. And in the meantime I go over to Al, who puts his hands up and says defensively, “Hey, he started it…”

“Okay, but you’re twice his size, you could have really hurt him.”

“He just took me by surprise, that’s all,” says Dave, his pride obviously hurt.

“Yeah, you wish,” answers Al with a smirk.

“What the hell, are you two starting again? Can’t you act like adults for five minutes?” I shout at them as though they were two naughty little boys, venting all my anger.

“You’re right. It’s my fault, I should have minded my own business,” mutters Dave with a shrug.

“Damn right you should!”

“Al!” I snap angrily.

“No, let him,” says Dave. He heads for the door, eyeing me bitterly. “If you’d rather believe him.”

“Believe what?” I ask, not understanding what he’s talking about.

“All this Prince Charming crap, Sam,” he says, mocking my ingenuousness.

“Dave, you’re not funny.”

“And it won’t be funny when you realise he’s just been messing you around. At least I was honest.”

“Are you back to insulting me?”

“Dave, Al’s right. You’ve got no right to talk about him like that.”

“Sure, of course not. Who am I to dare to criticise Al?” Dave shakes his head as though he were the only one of us to see things as they really are. “Why don’t you tell her what you’re really called, Al?” he says, pronouncing Al’s name as though it were an accusation. “Because you haven’t told her, have you?”

“What’s he talking about?” I turn to look at Al, who remains strangely silent.

“What is it, cat got your tongue? Let me help you out. Sam, meet Adam Graham,” says Dave, with a sarcastic smile. “Congratulations, you’ve managed to get close to the most evasive man in the whole country. After this scoop, the front page is all yours, except…” and he slaps his forehead. “What an idiot I am! There can’t be an interview because you quit your job for him. But anyway, what do you care about a job now you’ve got ‘Al’? Goodnight Sam!” And without giving me time to reply, he opens the door and disappears, leaving me in a hotel room for the second time.

The door closes and I’m the first to speak.

“Al, all that… all that story… is it true?”

“Yeah,” he admits.

“Why?” I somehow manage to summon up the courage to ask.

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Let’s try anyway.”

“I was scared you’d have said no.”

“Bullshit.”

“I swear, it’s the truth.” He seems sincere.

“Why would I have said no?” I ask, incredulously.

“Because you would never have believed that I was actually interested in you.”

“So you lied to me. Great tactic,” I say wearily, and go back into the bedroom.

Al follows me, and while I gather up my clothes from the floor he tries to stop me.

“Sam, wait, look at me.”

“What?”

“Are you angry?”

“To tell the truth, no,” I say haltingly, “I’m just exhausted.”

“Sam, I like you for real. I didn’t lie about that.”

“I believe you…” And it’s true, I know it’s true. I can tell from his expression, from his hands that struggle to restrain themselves from touching me.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“I’m going to him.”

“You’re going to Dave? Now? After everything he’s done to you?”

“I know,” I admit sadly, “But I have to speak to him. And I need to see if he’s okay. He just got punched in the face because of me.”

“Sam…”

“No, Al.” I say, pushing him away, “not now. We’ll speak about it tomorrow.” And a few minutes later I’m listening to the radio in a taxi and hoping I can find him.