"Maybe."
"Give me one hour."
God, his touch is making me hot and warm at once.
"You can teach me something after."
"What can I teach you?"
"You tell me. I hear you learn a lot of shit in college."
"You didn't go?"
"I dropped out after a semester."
I shoot him a really look.
He nods.
"I majored in English. Do you really want to learn about analyzing literature?"
"I haven't read a book in a while."
"Hmm." I rack my brain for things I can teach Joel. "We could do it with movies, instead."
"You're passing up the chance to analyze Harry Potter with me."
I have to laugh. "God, your thesis would be exclusively focused on phallic imagery. It would be disturbing."
"That's a funny way of pronouncing genius."
"Uh-huh."
He takes my mug of tea and sets it on the counter. Then he's sliding his arms around my waist, pulling my body into his.
Already, I'm forgetting my anxieties.
I can't pull back from this thing with Joel.
His touch makes me feel alive in a way nothing else does.
How can I give up even a minute of that?
"I'm a bad student. I can see why you don't want to teach." He brushes my hair behind my ear. "How about you force me to try something new instead?"
"Is there anything Joel Young hasn't tried?"
He shrugs. "There must be."
Hmm. This needs to be something that challenges Joel. He's good at convincing everyone else he's the up for anything life of the party guy.
But I know that's a put on.
Which means, I need to find something that will challenge his desire to seem like the cool, fun, nothing bothers me guy.
Ah.
That's it!
"How about I give you a facial," I say.
His pupils dilate. "You're going to have to explain this—"
"Not that kind of facial."
"That's all I'm thinking."
"It's for your skin."
"Yeah, I hear it's great for your skin."
I laugh. "Like at a spa. We can make homemade masks. We need to pick up some food anyway."
"You do that at a spa."
My laugh spreads all the way to my belly. I have to clutch at my stomach so I won't double over.
"If you want to get kinky about blowing me in public, I'm not about to complain."
I shake my head. Okay, I'm getting back in control of this conversation. "You know that isn't the kind of facial I mean."
He tries to keep a straight face, but he doesn't quite get there. He's laughing.
"We'll do an avocado and honey face mask."
"You turning down my offer?"
I nod.
He cocks a brow.
"I'm not opposed to doing that kind of thing in public." My cheeks flush, but I press on. "But I don't want you coming on my face."
His pupils dilate.
"I want you coming on my tits or in my mouth. Or… well. I want you coming inside me. I'm on the pill. And I'm safe. If you're safe—"
"Fuck, don't tease about this."
"I'm not."
"You want to go bareback?"
Yes. Badly. But then I'm supposed to be waiting until I'm sure I'll survive losing him.
Only I'm never going to be sure of that.
And, really, there are no guarantees in life…
Maybe I'm letting go of caution. Maybe I'm thinking with my libido. I don't care.
I need to have Joel again.
I nod. "I do. Not right now. But… sometime."
"Now is good."
"What happened to drums?"
"I'd rather bang you."
I laugh. "That was terrible."
"Not terrible."
"Terrible. Joel Young makes terrible jokes." I push him playfully. "That would sound better if I knew your middle name."
"Joel Oscar Young."
"Your initials spell joy?"
He nods. "My mom is a hippie."
Again, I laugh. "Joel is Joy… wow, that puts you in a whole new perspective."
He's still wearing that slack-jawed expression. "We're talking."
"We are."
"We could be fucking."
"Here?"
"Yeah."
I shake my head.
He nods to the couch. When I fold my arms and raise a brow, he nods to the bed. Then to the balcony. The kitchen counter. The expanse of wall.
"You want to go bareback that badly?"
"Never have."
"Never?"
"Never been in a monogamous relationship."
Monogamous relationship.
How can such a matter of fact description set me on fire?
How can it make my heart flutter and my stomach churn?
I let me head fill with ideas about me and Joel. I wash up, dress, join Joel at the nearest grocery store, drive back to our place. The entire time, I'm in my head, imagining the possibility of this being forever.
We are married.
Maybe…
There's a reason for that.
Maybe it's enough of a reason for us to stay that way.
After we put our groceries away, we get set up in Joel's practice room.
This apartment is cozy. It's not Manhattan cozy, but it's not exactly a big expanse of space. With the walls covered in beige soundproofing foam, the room is even smaller.
There's something nice about how DIY this room feels. It's not the fancy studio of a stuck-up millionaire musician. It's this thrown together I need to play here and I need to play now thing.
Joel motions to the stool behind his drum kit.
I sit.
He kneels behind me, his chest against my back, his cheek against my neck. His breath is warm on my ear.
It's incredibly difficult to concentrate. Somehow, I manage to listen as he shows me how to hold the drumsticks with a loose grip. How to tap the drum or the cymbal. How to smack the leather hard enough to make a lot of noise but not so hard it snaps.
"It would be very fucking rock and roll of you to burst a drum, but I don't want to be without my kit if I can help it." His hands curl around my wrists. It's a tight grip.
He's looking too close.
He's going to feel those scars.
He's going to know.
He can't know.
I look back to him. His expression is the same. He's an eager teacher. He's either not noticing the scar tissue on my wrists or he doesn't care.
"Angel, I know it's hard to think about anything but fucking me when I'm this close—"
Okay. I have to shake this off and joke back.
Only that isn't what I want with Joel. I want to tell him. I want to tell him everything.
His voice softens. "Hey. You okay?"
I want to tell him everything. I do. But not right now.
I make my voice light. "Are you trying to talk me out of thinking about you naked?"
He laughs. "I know you have an active imagination with all the reading you do, but if you want me naked, you only have to ask."
"That's not good teaching. You should make it a reward."
"Are you trying to talk me out of getting naked?"
"No. But…" I press my back into his chest. He's warm. And I can feel his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. "I guess I want to channel my inner rock star."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." That is true. I want to learn this. If only to prove I can. "I want to try things even when I'll be terrible at them."
"You're sure you'll be terrible?"
"When the odds are good I'll be terrible." Right now, I don't try things if the odds are good I'll be terrible. Or even just okay. But I want to get there. I want to stop closing myself off to every experience that might end in pain or failure. I look to Joel and nod. "Let's go."
It takes nearly three
hours for Joel to teach me the Billy Idol song White Wedding. I'm pretty sure the choice has everything to do with Joel's love of 80s music and nothing to do with our quickie nuptials. Hell, I even manage to put the what the hell is happening with our marriage question out of mind while we practice.
Drumming is hard. I'm terrible at keeping a beat. I miss a ton of notes. Every time I take a misstep, that little voice in my head screams give this up and do something you know you're good at. But I fight it.
I fight it enough to learn the song… well, I know it okay.
Joel is beaming with pride. "Play it one more time."
"I'm tired." I try to keep my voice even, but it's distinctly whiny. "And hot." I toss my cardigan on the floor.
Joel's gaze goes straight to my chest. "You're more than welcome to do this shirtless."
"That sounds like a reward for you."
"Only while you play. After…" He barely manages to bring his eyes back to mine. "We'll both like what happens after."
"One more time," I say.
He nods.
"Okay." I tap the drumsticks together. I feel silly counting down, but when I manage to turn off the part of my brain that cares what everyone else thinks, I enjoy it. "Three, two, one."
I go.
I play the entire song. And I only mess up a dozen times.
When I'm done, Joel knees in front of me. He pulls me onto the floor with him.
His lips find mine. His kiss is full of affection. Tenderness. It's hungry too, but it's more I adore you than I need to fuck you, immediately.
God, he tastes good.
And the way he's been smiling at me all afternoon…
Feelings whirl around my stomach.
The possibility of failing at playing drums is nothing compared to the possibility of this ending just as I'm falling in love with him.
I'm not there yet.
But I'm pretty sure I'll get there if this keeps up.
God, he's a good kisser.
His hand slides under my dress. He presses his palm against me, over my panties. Desire pushes concerns from my mind.
It pushes thoughts from my mind, period.
I'm losing interest in everything except Joel's hands on my body.
His lips on my lips.
His cock inside me.
Yes.
We need to do this.
Now.
I'm about to tear his clothes off when there's a knock on the door.
Then the bell rings. It's three rings in a pattern. I can't quite place the pattern but it seems intentional.
Joel pushes himself up with a heavy sigh. "Fuck."
I stare up at him, but his expression doesn't offer me any clarity.
"That can't be…" He looks at me apologetically. "Give me a minute."
I nod and adjust my dress.
His footsteps move through the apartment. Then he's opening the door.
"Sweetheart, you look good," a voice says. It's older. Female. "It's really true."
"Yeah," he says.
"My son really is married."
21
Joel
Bella pulls her arms over her chest as she steps into the main room. It doesn’t do much to hide her cleavage. Her tits are fighting that tight dress.
I have no complaints, but I can read the nervous look on her face. She doesn't want my mom thinking she's trashy.
She doesn't realize that my mom doesn't think anyone is trashy.
"I'm sorry to pop-in, but I couldn't reach Joel on his phone. And, well, I had to come when I heard the news." Mom nods hello. "You can call me Trish."
"Bella."
"Don't let me stop you two from whatever you were doing." Mom smiles.
Bella blushes. "No, that's fine. We were just, ahem—"
"Practicing," I say.
Mom nods. "Yes, I can tell you two were working hard."
"Excuse me." Bella motions to the bathroom. "I'll be a few minutes."
Mom offers her a friendly smile.
Mom offers everyone that friendly smile.
She waits until Bella is in the bathroom to look to me. "She's pretty."
"Yeah."
"Smart?" Mom asks.
I nod.
"She seems polite too."
"She's nervous. Almost like she didn't know she was going to meet my mom for some reason."
"I called a few hours ago."
I'm sure that's true. For the last few hours, I've been thinking of nothing but teaching Bella to play. Okay, maybe I thought about making her come here and there. But I was mostly in music mode.
Mom's voice is teasing. "How did someone like you end up with someone so polite."
"I'm very fucking polite." I slide my hand into my pocket. "I'm a fucking gentleman."
Mom's eyes light up as she laughs. "Do gentlemen marry women who haven't met their mothers?"
"Apparently."
She makes that mhmmm noise. Her posture is still confident, in control. She's wearing her usual loose sweater, jeans, comfort shoes outfit.
She looks the same as always.
Except that she isn't wearing her wedding ring.
I try not to stare at her unadorned left hand, but I can't help it.
"You haven't told me how you two met," Mom says.
"I haven't?" I make my shrug effortless. "You'd think I'd mention that."
"I would." She stares through me. It's not penetrating the way Mal or Kit's stare is. There's something soft about it. Understanding. "You were home for a week and you didn't say a word about a girlfriend."
I clear my throat.
"Joel, I understand that you aren't happy your father and I have divorced. I'm not mad that you wanted to skip our party." Her voice softens. "You can be upset. That's okay. You're allowed to grieve however you want."
I want to not talk about this.
"Your model of love, of marriage, was broken. It's normal for that to hurt."
"Daphne tell you to say that?"
"No. Sweetie, my parents divorced when I was young. And back then… it wasn't nearly as common. I know how much it hurts. But it wasn't your fault. It was us making that decision."
I appreciate that Mom wants to help, but I don't want to discuss this shit. She sees the divorce as sunshine and roses. I see it as darkness and lilies on tombstones.
There's no middle ground here. There's no way we're going to agree.
I need to make a joke. I need to laugh it off. I need to convince her I'm fine with this.
At the very least, I need to change the subject.
But when I rack my brain for something, anything, to say, I come up empty.
I can't laugh this off.
But I can keep my hands occupied. "You want coffee?"
Mom nods. "Sure."
I fill two mugs with what's left in the carafe and hand one to Mom. Both of us drink it black.
My gaze goes to Bella as she slinks out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
"Kit seems to like her," Mom says.
Good for him. Fucking traitor. Not that I can talk. I would have done exactly the same thing in his shoes.
"Don't blame him sweetheart. He was worried about you."
"Was he?"
"Hearing your parents are getting a divorce then running off to Vegas to get married." Mom takes a long sip then sets her mug on the counter. "It's not hard to draw a line between the two things."
"I like her."
"Do you love her?"
Why is everyone asking me that? I offer Mom my best smile. From the look in her eyes, I'm not sure she's buying it. But it's all I've got. "Being with her feels right."
Mom makes that mhmmm sound again.
"She's a fucking amazing woman. Don't give her shit."
That gets Mom smiling. "I may not be a 'fucking gentleman,' but I am always polite."
I have to laugh.
Right on cue, Bella steps out of the bedroom in that same cute dress, a different adorable cardigan covering he
r shoulders. Her hair is in a loose bun. Her lips are pink.
Damn, my fingers are itching to pull those glasses off her face. My lips are itching for hers.
This conversation is torture. I need to be someplace where the world makes sense.
And Bella in my bed—that makes a lot of fucking sense.
Mom slides off her stool. She goes to shake Bella's hand. "It's very nice to meet you officially."
"You too," Bella says.
"Forgive me if I seem surprised. It's nothing personal. You're a lovely woman and you seem smart," Mom says.
Bella taps her glasses. "I get that a lot."
Mom laughs. "They are lovely frames. They suit you."
Bella smiles. "Thanks."
Mom's voice lifts to a playful tone. "Joel has never even mentioned a girlfriend before."
Bella blushes. "It happened pretty fast."
"There's nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance." Mom laughs. "I understand the rush. Joel is one of a kind. You don't want to let someone like him slip through your fingers."
"True." Bella moves into the kitchen and takes the seat next to mine. "Tea?"
I motion to the kettle. "The water is warm."
"He's always been such a special young man. And always so good with women. Even when he was in marching band," Mom says.
Bella laughs. "Joel was in marching band?"
Mom nods. "He was a Drum Major." Mom winks at me. "They're basically team captains."
"A chance to boss everyone around." Bella fixes a cup of English Breakfast. "That sounds like Joel."
"You should have seen him running theater crew," Mom says.
"Theater crew?" Bella shoots me a really look.
I nod. Really.
"Yes. Oh, he was the president of the A.V. club." Mom sips her coffee. "Has he told you about the time he accidentally broadcast a, um… a private session with a friend instead of the school's weekly news."
Bella presses her back against the counter. She stares into my eyes. "A private session with a friend?"
I have to laugh. "Especially private."
"So, even as the A.V. club geek, you still cleaned up?" Bella teases.
I wave my hand over my face. "Some people know what matters in life."
Bella laughs. "You have your priorities in order."
She stares into my eyes like she's lost in them. There's something going through her head, but I don't have a clue what it is.
"Have you seen the pictures of Joel in his band uniform?" Mom pulls out her cell. "He really was adorable."
Dangerous Rock: A Rock Star Romance (Dangerous Noise Book 3) Page 14
