Save a Prayer Read Online Free Page A
Author: Karen Booth
I'd needed to see her reaction. If she'd played it off, I would've known she had absolutely no more feelings for me.
"The two of us?" she asked. "You and me? Alone?"
I set my beer bottle down on the bar, unable to escape Chris's watchful eye. He'd expressed his skepticism. He'd been clear that he didn't want me to mess things up with the magazine and the job she'd come to do. More than that, he'd begged me to look at it from her perspective. Coming to the US to photograph her cheating boyfriend's band couldn't have been the easiest thing in the world. "Yes. Is that such a horrible request?"
"I just don't think it's a good idea. If you and I are going to work together over the next three days, we need to focus on getting along. The best way to do that is without drudging up the past."
"Who said I wanted to talk about our past?" I regretted the question the instant it came out of my mouth. Of course I wanted to talk about exactly that. It was an itch I had to scratch. I needed her to know how sorry I was.
"What else is there? Are you going to tell me about the tour? So you can tiptoe around the topic of groupies? I'll know you're doing it the entire time."
Her words brought the memory back to life, desperately chasing after her through the tangle of ropes and pulleys behind the stage at the Airdale Theatre in Liverpool. Out the back door and into the dark and dirty alley, in the rain no less, which she absolutely hated. I'd only been able to catch her wrist, and her long hair whipped through the air when she had no choice but to stop running and turn back. Is that what you want, Graham? Some groupie? Then fine. Go be with her and leave me the hell alone. Forever.
I’d let go of her wrist—let go of her—that night and I’d never regret anything in my life as much as that. The rain had doused me, soaked my clothes completely, but I’d been unable to move from my spot in that wretched alley. I’d been unable to come up with any words to make up for what I’d done.
Angie hadn't expected much of me when we were together, but she had expected fidelity, as she should have. My stomach soured every time I thought about what a stupid git I'd been.
"I have some things I want to talk to you about, and I really don't want to do it in the middle of a bar. Fifteen minutes. That's all I'm asking for."
She crossed her arms at her waist, seeming deep in thought, hopefully not about how best to kill me and where to hide the body. She was wearing a black, off-the-shoulder top, revealing the sublime contours of her collarbone. I would've done anything at that moment to explore every ridge and valley with my lips, take her into my arms and show her how badly I ached for her.
"I'll be right back." She turned and walked across the bar to where Chris was sitting with the rest of the band and a curly-haired blonde woman. They talked for a moment and she returned. "You said you wanted fifteen minutes. Well, Chris is coming to find us in fifteen minutes."
I need policing? By Chris of all people? "Do you really trust me that little?"
"It's taken a lot to get over you, Graham. I'm just giving myself a bit of insurance."
The life was being squeezed out of my heart. She was over me, or at least convinced of it. Did I have a choice other than to take whatever crumbs she would give me? We were playing by Angie's rules now and the sooner I got on board, the better. "Whatever you need."
We walked through the lobby, neither of us speaking a word, finding a relatively quiet spot with two fussy red and gold upholstered armchairs. A steady stream of people filed by, so it was nowhere close to the privacy I craved. I would've loved to go outside, to walk and talk for hours the way we used to, but there was no way to do that. We were just down the street from the festival site. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of music fans hanging around outside the hotel. If anything was going to ruin my apology, screaming girls would absolutely do
"The two of us?" she asked. "You and me? Alone?"
I set my beer bottle down on the bar, unable to escape Chris's watchful eye. He'd expressed his skepticism. He'd been clear that he didn't want me to mess things up with the magazine and the job she'd come to do. More than that, he'd begged me to look at it from her perspective. Coming to the US to photograph her cheating boyfriend's band couldn't have been the easiest thing in the world. "Yes. Is that such a horrible request?"
"I just don't think it's a good idea. If you and I are going to work together over the next three days, we need to focus on getting along. The best way to do that is without drudging up the past."
"Who said I wanted to talk about our past?" I regretted the question the instant it came out of my mouth. Of course I wanted to talk about exactly that. It was an itch I had to scratch. I needed her to know how sorry I was.
"What else is there? Are you going to tell me about the tour? So you can tiptoe around the topic of groupies? I'll know you're doing it the entire time."
Her words brought the memory back to life, desperately chasing after her through the tangle of ropes and pulleys behind the stage at the Airdale Theatre in Liverpool. Out the back door and into the dark and dirty alley, in the rain no less, which she absolutely hated. I'd only been able to catch her wrist, and her long hair whipped through the air when she had no choice but to stop running and turn back. Is that what you want, Graham? Some groupie? Then fine. Go be with her and leave me the hell alone. Forever.
I’d let go of her wrist—let go of her—that night and I’d never regret anything in my life as much as that. The rain had doused me, soaked my clothes completely, but I’d been unable to move from my spot in that wretched alley. I’d been unable to come up with any words to make up for what I’d done.
Angie hadn't expected much of me when we were together, but she had expected fidelity, as she should have. My stomach soured every time I thought about what a stupid git I'd been.
"I have some things I want to talk to you about, and I really don't want to do it in the middle of a bar. Fifteen minutes. That's all I'm asking for."
She crossed her arms at her waist, seeming deep in thought, hopefully not about how best to kill me and where to hide the body. She was wearing a black, off-the-shoulder top, revealing the sublime contours of her collarbone. I would've done anything at that moment to explore every ridge and valley with my lips, take her into my arms and show her how badly I ached for her.
"I'll be right back." She turned and walked across the bar to where Chris was sitting with the rest of the band and a curly-haired blonde woman. They talked for a moment and she returned. "You said you wanted fifteen minutes. Well, Chris is coming to find us in fifteen minutes."
I need policing? By Chris of all people? "Do you really trust me that little?"
"It's taken a lot to get over you, Graham. I'm just giving myself a bit of insurance."
The life was being squeezed out of my heart. She was over me, or at least convinced of it. Did I have a choice other than to take whatever crumbs she would give me? We were playing by Angie's rules now and the sooner I got on board, the better. "Whatever you need."
We walked through the lobby, neither of us speaking a word, finding a relatively quiet spot with two fussy red and gold upholstered armchairs. A steady stream of people filed by, so it was nowhere close to the privacy I craved. I would've loved to go outside, to walk and talk for hours the way we used to, but there was no way to do that. We were just down the street from the festival site. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of music fans hanging around outside the hotel. If anything was going to ruin my apology, screaming girls would absolutely do