7
Jess
“What the fuck was that?”Coy practically growls after slamming and locking our bedroom door. He stalks toward me but I meet each of his steps with one backwards until my head hits the wall with athud.
“What was what?” I shake my head but I know exactly to which he’s referring. Jealousy’s always been Coy’s nature. I should have asked Sean to leave the moment he dropped those boxes. He was only being friendly, and yes, I was quite enjoying the view, but I had no right to indulge ineither.
“You are mine.” Coy grips my chin roughly and lifts it so I have no choice but to meet his gaze. “Mine.” His grip is firm already, but he jerks my headhigher.
It hurts enough to bring tears to my eyes, but I blink them back before they fall. “I’m yours, babe. You know I am.” The words heave from my lips, along with mybreath.
He nods, his hold loosening. “Damn straight,” he whispers, and just like that his lips cover mine. Pushing. Demanding. Claiming me as his as if I needed the reminder. He takes control and my body conforms to hishunger.
Lust, powerful and sudden, pulses through my body and between my legs. My fingers reach to pull him closer but he stepsaway.
“Don’t do that again.” His warning quashes my desire and replaces it withshame.
I’m not exactly sure what he means, but I don’t want to cross him again. “What?”
His gaze narrows. “Invite another man into ourbedroom.”
I shake my head. “I won’t. I’m sorry. I didn’tmean—”
“Go find something to do.” He turns to one of the boxes that still needs unpacking. “I can’t even look at you rightnow.”
Even though I didn’t do anything wrong, this is just how Coy is. I should have known better. I was foolish. My fingers go to my lips, the ones he was tracing with his own only moments ago. “Oh,okay.”
“Just give me a minute, okay?” He glances over at me and runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m stressed the fuckout.”
“Okay.” I nod like I understand, but I don’t really. What does he have to worry about? He’s got his dream job, a rent-free place to live, and more money in the bank than he needs. Unless he’s stressed about me. That’s likely it. The usual melancholy hits and I tuck the loose strands of my hair behind my ear as I venture out into the house. I always screw up. Say the wrong thing. I’m not shiny and bright. I’m the girl who always falls short when everyone else seems to get itright.
This place is huge, big enough that when I wander downstairs and through the main living areas I don’t run into a single person. I wonder if everyone’s still asleep, and whether that’s a normal occurrence for rock stars. Party all night, sleep through the day? If that’s so, I need to find something around here to keep me busy. I might not be the most talented or skilled person, but I’m not okay with sitting around and doing nothing. Maybe I could help keep things clean. I’ve done housekeeping before. Yes, that’s perfect. I’ll just look for the broom closet, or wherever it is rich people store their cleaningsupplies.
The kitchen is immaculate, like the rest of the house, and beyond that is a family room that extends out to a big patio. There’re several closed doors off of one hallway, and a staircase beyond that to the basement. That’s one thing Coy couldn’t stop talking about when we loaded up his Chevy before heading over. The studio is here, right in the lower level of the house, and apparently tricked out with all the latest in sound recordingequipment.
There’s got to be a laundry room around here somewhere, but I don’t want to barge into any rooms without permission. God, I feel like a stranger in my new home. I thought it would be bad being left behind in Coy’s apartment, but now I’m not so sure. This place is posh, stylish, and way out of my league. I don’t belong here atall.
An overwhelming apprehension claws at my chest until I can’t take a full inhale without being on the verge of a panic attack. Fighting it back, I push outside the giant glass door in search of freshair.
Down a little path I come upon a seating area of oversized padded furniture; I take a seat, and here I’m finally able to breathe normally again. Closing my eyes, I relish in the way the sun warms my skin over the cool air. March in Los Angeles is so much more delightful than Denver, and for a moment I focus on the fact that moving here with Coy wasn’t merely my only choice. It was a goodone.
Here I can pretend everything isperfect.
I can make believe this is my home, and that I belong here with my talentedboyfriend.
I curl up in my chair with my eyes still shut, and even consider falling asleep. This chair and secluded backyard is my new favorite hiding spot. When things get too overwhelming this is where I’lldisappear.
“Tony! Tony, no! Drop that this instant!” A woman’s shouts pull me out of my daydream. My eyelids snap open and I sit up just in time to catch the tiny dog barreling straight for my lap. He leaps from the ground, a ball of long fur with something bright purple between his teeth. Before I can investigate, the woman who’s shouting stops short, her hands on her hips while she glares at thepup.
Her eyes lift to mine and she shakes her head with a slight smile. “He’s always after the ladies.” She retrieves the dog from my arms and snuggles him to her chest before removing what’s stuck in his mouth and tucks it into her backpocket.
“I’m Jess,” I blurt out and the woman eyes me with a chuckle. Stupid. She doesn’t know who I am or why I’m here. Wishing I could start over, I push to my feet and try again. “I’m Coy’s girlfriend. It’s nice to meet you.” I hold out ahand.
Her lips pull with a familiar smile and she tucks the dog into one arm to grasp my hand. “Deb, Trent’smom.”
I shove my hands into the back pockets of my cutoff shorts when she releases my hand. “And you live here,too?”
“Yeah.” Her smile widens but I can’t tell whether she’s happy to see me or not. Some people are really easy to read. She keeps her emotions wellhidden.
