So Close (a James Hetfield story)

Chapter 41

The sun filtering through the drapes was enough to waken me, though to be honest, I'd barely slept all night. Slowing pushing myself up into a sitting position, I brushed tangled hair from my face as I looked around the large room. It was plush, far fancier than the standard rooms that myself and the other supporting members of the GNR band and crew rated many floors away. This was a suite intended for presidents, movie stars, and rock gods. Looking over at the empty side of the bed next to me, my lips twisted into a small smile since the "rock god" was currently ensconced on the couch in the enjoining living room. My stomach fluttered at the thought of James sleeping just a few feet away.

Quickly, I squashed any wayward thoughts. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Flopping back on the bed, I stared at the ceiling, my brain going over, for the thousandth time, all the things that he had revealed the previous night. "Jamie...I don't know what to think about everything you've told me," I whispered out loud to myself, "there's so much to understand and wrap my brain around. So much to rethink, so much to forgive...I dunno what the hell I'm supposed to do."

I'd said as much to him last night, and even though I could tell he was disappointed that I didn't jump right back into his arms, he was shrewd enough to understand that that was asking too much. Instead, he'd suggested we get some sleep and talk in the morning, and had insisted on me taking his bed rather than heading back to my own room. I think he was a little scared to let me out of his sight, so I let him have his way.  

Rolling on my side, I stared at the empty pillow next to me. I knew I'd be lying to myself if I said I wasn't wishing he were there beside me. It would be so easy...

"No!" I chastised myself and scrambled back into a sitting position. "Keep your head on straight Leila, this is not the time to make things even more complicated than they already are."

"Complicated" barely came close to describing everything I was feeling at the moment. Confused, angry, confused, hurt, confused...hopeful. The last one made me pause. I wasn't ready to go there yet, I had a lot to work through with James—including coming to terms with everything that had happened—to even contemplate a possible future together. I was reckless with matters of the heart and he was my greatest weakness, but no matter his reasons, no matter his intentions, I'd suffered too much those years apart. I owed it to myself to take it slow before I let him back into my life, and certainly before I let myself go back into his bed.

I looked around me then and realized the irony of that thought. Giggles erupted from my throat and I threw my hands over my face to stifle them.

"I'd wish you a good mornin', but looks like you don't need it." James' deep voice startled me and I dropped my hands to see him standing in the doorway to the bedroom, his hands on his hips and a smile stretching his lips wide. He looked delicious in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair sticking out all over, I had to look down before he caught the desire in my eyes.

Keeping distance between us was going to be hard.

He came over and sat on the edge of the bed, his familiar and intoxicating presence filling my senses.

Keeping distance was going to be really fucking hard.

Swallowing down the urge to run my fingers through his wild hair, I spoke up quickly. "I hope you slept ok." Cautiously, I peeked up at him. "You didn't have to give up your bed."

"It woulda killed me last night to have ya leave. Sleepin' on the couch was a small price to pay to have you close." His lips twisted a little. "Though if I'm bein' honest, I didn't sleep much."

"Oh yeah?" I asked shyly.

He reached out and carefully brushed a curl from my cheek, his eyes looking me over tenderly. "Knowin' you were so close, and after everything that was said last night"—he sighed a little—"well, let's just say that sleepin' was the last thing on my mind."