Eyes on Us - Book cover

Eyes on Us

Rebeca Ruiz

Artistic Sensibility

LANEY

Ace slides down the wall and nearly collapses on the floor. His mouth is open. He’s obviously in shock.

I can’t blame him. I reacted the exact same way when the pregnancy test came up positive.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” I try to break the silence.

Ace glances slowly up at me. Even in this moment, his eyes are so bright and endless, it’s hard not to fall into them.

Then, his expression of disbelief turns to one of desperation.

“Are you sure it’s mine?” he pants breathily.

“Of course, I’m sure! Who the fuck else’s would it be?”

Ace’s body tenses and twitches as he grapples with reality.

“I don’t know!”

“I’m not a slut!” The words burst out of my mouth so loud I’m practically screaming. “I’m not like you rockstars!”

“I’m sorry.”

Ace stands up again. He looks flushed, like an embarrassed little boy. It’s hard to believe this guy is the lead guitarist in America’s biggest rock band.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then, what did you mean?”

Ace takes a breath to talk and then decides against it. “I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“I guess it’s all I have to say.” He locks eyes with me again.

“What’s next?”

What is next? I’ve been thinking about it for a week and I still don’t know. On the one hand, having a child right now could derail my entire life. Could derail Ace’s life. It could throw me into the limelight and make me paparazzi fodder.

But on the other hand, I imagine holding my sweet baby in my arms and nothing else seems as important.

I look up at Ace. His eyes are glued to the floor. I wonder what he’s thinking? I wonder if he ever dreams of being a father.

“Ace…”

He matches my gaze. His eyes seem even bluer now that his face is dark and thoughtful.

“This is hard for me, too. I didn’t mean to yell.”

He walks over and wraps his big, muscular arms around me. “Let’s start over.”

“Okay.” I wipe a tear from my eye. It’s mixed with the blue paint on my face. I notice I’ve left a blue mark on his chest.

His arms make me feel safe—I could stay like this forever.

It reminds me of that night a month ago. I think about how safe and cared-for I felt. “So, who’s Laney Michaels?” His voice is deep and calming.

Ace pulls away and looks around the room.

“An artist.” He manages an understated smile. “But I knew that.”

He takes a closer look at what I was working on before my meddling sister invited Ace to my apartment without my permission.

Addie is definitely going to get an earful about this later.

“By the looks of it, you’re a damn good one.”

“Thanks. I get by.”

Ace looks up from the canvas and at the space.

“Seems a little cramped in here.” He tugs uncomfortably at his shirt collar.

“It’s fine for now. I always want more space to spread out, but this gets the job done.”

Ace takes a seat on an old thrift store stool I have in the corner. “Is this about money?”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to take responsibility, Laney. I’m not going to leave you to deal with this on your own.”

“I don’t want anything from you. I’m not even the one who called you here. I’m as surprised as you are.”

“I know, I know…you don’t seem like the type.”

He doesn’t have to say it, but I know what he means.

Gold-digger. He doesn’t think I’m a gold-digger.

“Thanks, Ace. That sure means a fucking lot.” I roll my eyes. How can someone so charming be such a jackass?

“How much does it cost?”

“What do you mean?”

“The procedure? I’ll pay for the whole thing.” He’s locking eyes with me again.

“I have health insurance, that’s not an issue.”

He seems surprised. “I didn’t realize insurance covered…you know, that.”

“Are you insinuating that I’m getting an abortion?” Rage is building in my voice.

Ace looks like a deer in headlights, “I… I just assumed—”

“I can’t believe you could be such a selfish asshole! Did you think for a second how I might feel about that?!”

“I’m the asshole? I didn’t even want to be here! You and your damn sister trapped me!”

I’m shaking, I’m so angry. “So, I’m just another score for you, huh? Just another honeytrap trying to get a piece of Ace fucking Flanagan. Well, you can just go and…and…and fuck yourself!”

I can’t believe he would just ASSUME I’d want to terminate the baby like that. Without even a discussion! He’s ready to bury the evidence and move on.

As I storm toward the door, he stands and calls back at me, “I didn’t think you’d want a baby either! I was doing this for both of us!” Ace says, hoarse from frustration.

He looks genuinely mind-boggled. Like he has no clue how insensitive he’s being.

He really is just another fuckboy player trying to cover his ass.

“I’m going out for some air.” I look back at him. “When I get back, I want you gone.”

“Fine, Laney. You won’t have to deal with me ever again.”

I reach for the doorknob and begin to turn it.

“Laney, stop.”

ACE

“Why should I?” Laney’s voice trembles with rage.

I really wish I had a good answer. I’m not often at such a total loss for words. But then…I’ve never had to deal with anything like this….

What do I say?

“Look…uh…you’re stressed. Hell, I understand why. Pregnancy can make women really…emotional. Your hormones are probably making you crazy.”

“What?” Her nostrils flare like a bull seeing red.

Shit. I’ve stepped in it now.

“I’ll show you emotional!”

She slams the door in my face.

That did not go well.

But what did Addie expect? She just threw us into a room together and closed the door.

This was only my second time being in a closed room with Laney, and she took me by surprise all over again. There’s just something about her…

I feel something building in my throat. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.

Rejection?

Maybe.

No. Loneliness.

I felt empty as soon as she started to leave.

“I must be crazy!” I exclaim to myself. How can I feel abandoned by someone I barely know?

My thoughts wander back to the beginning of my career—right when I first hit it big. It feels like an eternity ago. It’s crazy how much has happened in just a couple years.

Back then, I tried too many drugs, drank too much, slept with too many people…never really connected with anyone.

Now I’m more acclimated to the public eye, it’s much easier to be myself. It’s been a while since I’ve been uncomfortable in any situation. And this is a whole other level.

What right does Laney have to be upset with me?!

We both made the decision to have sex!

This is just as much her fault as mine!

And I’m only trying to be realistic about this pregnancy thing! I have an album to record, tours to play, a life to live. I don’t have time to be a dad!

Not to mention, I don’t know shit about kids! And from the looks of this cluttered, musty old apartment, Laney is nowhere near ready to support a child either.

Still…when I think about Laney, her hips in those paint-covered overalls, that messy, paint-splotched hair, the way her cheeks turned red when she was yelling at me…

It makes me feel something…

Something unexplainable….

Something—for now, anyway—I need to forget.

I pull out my phone to text Vince, my manager. He’s been with the band since we were sixteen and has gotten me out of more messes than I care to remember. If anyone can help me, it’s him.

Acehey, you know any good musicians in Chicago?
VinceOther than you, haha? what’s up?
AceI feel like I’m going crazy
AceI need to play
VinceYou mean a solo gig?
VinceThe other guys might not like it
Aceplease vince im stressed. Just need an outlet
VinceMaybe you’d be better just getting laid?😈
VinceWell???
AceNo, no girls Vince.
AceJust musicians.
Aceplease?
VinceI’m already working on a drummer and I think I have a bassist
VinceAlso an old flame you may remember
VinceStephanie Cox
AceVince I said no girls!
VinceI already told her you were in town
VinceIf you don’t want to talk to her that’s your call
VinceHave fun tonight 😉

It’s set. I’ll play a surprise show at a local bar and forget about everything—at least, for a little while. Laney and the baby will still be there at the end of the night.

I leave Laney’s building and stroll down the block to a little music store I passed on the way. If I plan on playing tonight, I need a guitar. Some people buy shoes when they’re nervous—I buy instruments.

As I pass a window, my reflection catches my eye. There’s something on my shirt.

It’s a streak of blue paint.

Laney cried it off her face and onto my chest. I didn’t even notice until now.

I catch myself smiling, thinking about holding her in my arms. I wonder where she is. Does she feel as alone as I do?

How does she feel about having a baby?

It scares the hell out of me…and then, again…it just feels right. Somehow, all of this big mess feels perfect.

I hear cameras clicking and people shouting.

A few fans have stopped to take photos of me. Nowadays, this never seems to quit.

And no matter how used to it you get, being under the microscope 24/7 can really get to you sometimes.

Fortunately, I’ve become a pro at zoning out and ignoring most of the chatter around me. If I didn’t, I would never get a chance to think.

I try to imagine what it would be like to be one of those sickeningly perfect celebrity families smeared across the covers of cheap drugstore tabloids, mine and Laney’s photoshopped smiles beaming pearly-white over our newborn baby.

At first, I must admit, there’s something appealing about the thought of it. Kind of wholesome.

But then, I think about how it would be beyond the pretty pictures.

Our every private moment on display for the world to view.

Callous columnists criticizing every choice we make to raise our child.

That’s no way to raise a family...

I sigh. Not like that’s even an option right now. Based on how things went today, whether Laney has the baby or not, I doubt she’ll even let me near the kid—or her, for that matter.

Maybe Vince is right.

Maybe getting laid is all I need.

And if anyone can make me forget about Laney, it’s Stephanie Cox. A gorgeous, leggy blonde, with nice plump lips and the most amazing ass…

Still, some hopeless part of me wishes, maybe Laney and I can still…

Fuck! I don’t know what to do…

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