3
Jess
“Babe! Babe, get up!”My boyfriend slaps my butt through the warm and comfortable sheets I’ve buried myselfbeneath.
Cracking open my eyes, I allow them to adjust to the daylight in our room and pull myself up to sit, still hugging the sheets to my chest. Coy paces from the bathroom to the closet, tossing clothes next to me on the bed. He bustles with anxious energy and the pit of my belly clenches with alarm. “Is everythingokay?”
He stops on a dime before stepping back inside the bathroom with a smile that stretches across his entire face. “Fuck yeah, it is. My agent called. I have anaudition.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so happy, and his enthusiasm replaces my caution with joy. “That’s great, baby. I’m so proud of you.” I rub the sleep from my eyes and stretch my arms overhead while checking the time on the clock. I slept in for once and I actually feelrested.
“How can you say that?” A chuckle escapes his lips, and he pokes his head out of the bathroom doorway while his fingers work gel into the tips of his hair. Shirtless in worn jeans, he’s never looked so handsome. I still don’t understand why someone like him would want someone like me, but in this moment I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. He turns back to the mirror and calls out, “You don’t even know what it’sfor.”
“Sorry, I can tell you’re excited, so it must be good. What’s your audition for?” I shoutback.
“Not what, but who.” He walks out and winks at me on the way back to our closet. The metal hangers scrape against the metal rod like chalk on a chalkboard and a shiver works its way down my spine. Coy curses under his breath and turns his chin to meet my stare. At my blank expression he blows out a breath and rolls his eyes. “You remember that band who fucked up the Grammy’s lastmonth?”
I tilt my head and my curiosity grows, because there’s no flipping way. “Three Ugly Guys? Yeah, it’s been all over the tabloids at the salon.” The minute the words fly out of my mouth, I wish I could suck them backin.
A scowl crosses Coy’s forehead and he pins me with an accusatory glare. “I told you not to read that shit. I don’t want you getting caught up in all the hype of livinghere.”
I lie to make things right, and because I don’t want him to take away my job. It’s the one productive contribution I make to our relationship, and though he doesn’t complain about being responsible for everything, I can’t help but want to do my part. He warned me not to read the gossip magazines and it was my error to disobey. “I don’t read them, I swear. I just noticed the headlines when I was stacking them at the end of myshift.”
“Good. Because those stars aren’t any different than anyone else. Their shit still stinks. They just got a lucky break or were born with money,” he rants and goes back to the hangers, moving each and every one of our clothing items from one side of the closet to the other with hostile aggravation. “Fuck! Where’s my blue shirt? The one I always wear to auditions.” His scowl bores in my direction. It’s only nerves. I know this, but I still hate it when he getsupset.
“It’s in the drawer.” I clamber from the bed, untangling myself from its warmth and safety, and tread over to the dresser to find it forhim.
“Yeah, well, I can’t fucking find it. Did you do laundry like youpromised?”
“It’s right here.” I hand him the shirt that still needs to be ironed. It’s clean but not pressed, the way he likes. I hustle to pull out the iron and go to the other room to lay a clean towel over our kitchen countertop. “When do you need toleave?”
“Thirty minutes. Fuck, Jess, I hate it when you do this. It messes with my routine.” He stomps over, his lucky shirt in hand, and I take it from him before he gets worked up anyfurther.
“Give me two minutes. It’ll be ready and then you can kick ass at this audition. You’re seriously trying out for Three Ugly Guys?” I offer him my biggest smile, because even though we’re off to a rough start this morning, there is nothing I want more than to support Coy’s success. When we moved to LA a few months ago it wasn’t only to get away; it was to chase his big dreams. I might not know everything about music, but I know my man has what it takes. I’ve never met anyone more driven and focused on their goals. It inspires me.Heinspiresme.
“Yeah, I’m fucking serious.” He falls back onto our second-hand couch and watches with a calculating stare as I press out the unwanted wrinkles from this well-loved fabric. There’s something sort of magical about how a flick of water from my fingers along with the pressing heat is enough to transform the material to like new. If only real life were sosimple.
I hold up the shirt for Coy’s approval and his grin grows when I wiggle my hips and dance to an imaginarybeat.
“You’re the best, you know that?” He springs off the couch, steals the shirt from my hands, and drops a kiss on mylips.
“No. You’re the best.” I watch him pull on the final piece to his outfit and grin because he looks every bit the rock god I know him to be. “Which is why you’re going to nail thisaudition.”
His lips pull up at one side, along with the lift of his eyebrow. “You’re good to me,Jess.”
My entire body thrills with his compliment. That’s what he does to me: warms me from the inside out, and gives me hope. He goes back to sit on the couch and it’s then I realize I’ll have to find another way to work if he’s busy with his audition. That or I’ll find someplace to hang out until my shift starts. “Can you drop me at work on theway?”
“I thought you didn’t work until this afternoon.” He pulls out two drumsticks and taps them in a steady beat along the practice pads that helps dampen thesound.
“I don’t, but I can find a coffee shop or somewhere to hang out until two.” He’s busy practicing and I shouldn’t bug him with this problem. It’s trivial compared to what he’s preparing. The iron isn’t quite cool but I carefully wrap up the cord while I calculate just how early I’ll need to leave on my own. Coy always drops me at work. The salon is in Beverly Hills, and far from the affordable apartments here near the airport. “Or I can take the bus. It’sfine.”
“Do you not want this for me?” He drops the sticks and stalks across theroom.
I set down the iron and push it out of reach. My heart races with that look in his eyes, an incredible energy directed at me. Both fear and lust fight for dominance with his approach. I’ve witnessed first-hand what he’s capable of and with his brow pulled low in a scowl, his disapproval is clear. “You’re really gonna act like I don’t take care ofyou.”
Damn it, I always say the wrong things.He should be practicing, not dealing with myride.
He towers over me with a glare. “After everything I’ve done, just because this is an inconvenience to yourday!”
