Chapter Twelve
Marisa
“Young God”- Halsey
The door slams shut. I count to thirty before I scream and slam my fist against the wall. That text... the way he stared at his phone. I want to know who that text was from.I’m not fucking stupid, Justin. I see right through you.I notice the way those other girls stare at him at signings. I’m aware when they approach him—that look in their eyes like they arerememberingwhat it’s like to have him inside of them. Every single one of them are pathetic.
I pace across my living room, chewing on my nails. I’m sure Justin’s nice and charming to them. They don’t pay attention the way I do. They haven’t seen all the messages in his phone. At first, I thought, maybe he’s misunderstood, an eccentric author with a few walls up that only need to be torn down. But the thing is. I can’t tear down his walls because the minute he sees me trying to loosen the first brick, he’ll leave. I’m going to have to sneak over those walls and tearhimdown.That’s the only way you’ll ever learn, Justin. It’s the only way you’ll learn.
I grab my laptop from the sofa and hurl it across the room. The silver backing cracks and splits. Tiny fragments of it splinter and fly off. I close my eyes. I take a few deep breaths, reminding myself that he held my last night. Recalling that pull that exists between us. I finally open my eyes and walk to my window. I glance down at the street and see him stepping onto the sidewalk. Sighing, I place my palm on the cool glass, watching as he heads toward his apartment, wondering how long it will be before we move in together and whether he has a room for the baby...
* * *
Justin pulls off the interstate, dropping the top to his vintage 1967 Mercedes convertible. The humid summer breeze whips through my hair and I fight to keep it from getting stuck in my lip gloss.
“We should get you one of those scarfs, you know, like they used inThelma and Louise?” Justin says, peering over his sunglasses with a laugh.
“Yeah, it would be fitting for this kind of car.” I glide my hand over the smooth coffee-colored leather interior, admiring the stitching.
“You’d look hot in that.” He winks at me before sinking his hand between my thighs and squeezing my leg. “Of course, you look hot in anything, babe.”Babe. I’m his babe.“You know,” he says, “we should get you into a signing. How many reviews you got on your book so far?”
I shrug, holding my hair in a ponytail as I glance over at him. The way the sun bounces off his tan skin…it’s almost like a sunset over a Tahitian island, undeniably exotic and tempting. “I don’t know.”
“How the hell do you not know? I check that shit every hour on the hour when a new one hits.” He grabs my hand, lacing his fingers between mine. I stare at our hands. Together. And my heart flutters.
“Maybe like ten.”
“Ten? Babe, we need to work on that. Tell you what, I’ll ask some of my people to read it, leave you some stellar reviews. And we need to get you into some signings for sure. I’ll let you share my table with me at the next few if you want?”
“They’ll let you do that?” I ask. My palm’s starting to sweat and I’m worried he’ll notice. “Share tables?”
He looks over at me and grins. “Babe, I’m Justin-fucking-Wild, they’ll let me do whatever I want.” He floors the accelerator, tires squealing as he whips around an 18-wheeler. I squeal. He laughs and speeds even faster.
“Justin…” I yank my hand away from his and swat at his massive arm. “Stop it. You’re going to kill us.”
“What?” His eyes flare with a sick form of entertainment. “You scared?”
I close my eyes and shake my head. “I’m not looking.”
“Probably best.”
The wind rushes through the car. The skirt of my dress ruffles. My stomach turns when he takes a sharp turn and the car fishtails. “Woohoo,” he shouts like an adolescent boy, then the car slows. “Well, we’re here.”
I open my eyes as we pull into the roundabout in front of the hotel. He hops over the door, tosses the keys to the valet, and grabs both our bags from the back seat before he pushes his shades back in his hair and nods toward the door. “C’mon, babe.”
A group of women are huddled in a tightknit circle by the entrance, a cloud of smoke hoovering above their heads. Their eyes train on Justin before shifting to me. Their heads move closer together, whispers bouncing around the small group as we pass by. “How much you want to bet they’re arguing over whether we’re fucking?” Justin asks as we step through the glass doors. The smell of lavender and mint fills the air-conditioned atrium.
I stand back while Justin checks in, watching the people watching him. Some random, young girl comes strutting up, slyly wrapping her arm around his shoulder before she places a kiss to his cheek. He slips out of her hold and throws a nervous smile back at me. “Oh, Jill, this is…” he motions me over, “this is Marisa.”
She looks at me and forces a smile before she sticks her hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
“You as well.” I shake her clammy hand, and I squeeze just a little.Just a little...
“Well,” she slowly backs away from Justin, “I guess I’ll see you guys around.”
“Sure thing,” he says as he takes the room key from the concierge. And then, he and I head to the elevators. Together. Because we are together. Take note all you bitches... We. Are. Together.
