A Beat in Time

by Gasq-Dion, Sandrine

  “Serena, can I see you for a second?” Jensen edged out of the booth and grabbed my arm. He pulled me towards the back of the restaurant and looked around discreetly.

  “What’s wrong, Jensen? Embarrassed?” I smirked.

  “Could you be a little less crass? Have some class, Serena.”

  “Class? I’ll have you know I’m a classy broad, goddammit. I’ve got class coming out of my ass! Don’t you dare presume to tell me how to behave! Your fucking fiancé, Jensen? When were you going to tell me you were engaged? Right after you fucked me on the couch?”

  “It’s not what you think, okay? Let me explain!”

  “Um, guys,” Wyatt walked up on us. “I think you might want to get back to the table.”

  “Can you take me home, Wyatt?” I slipped away from Jensen.

  “Um, sure?” Wyatt glanced at Jensen.

  “Don’t look at him for approval,” I snapped. “He has nothing to say.”

  “Serena, please let me explain,” Jensen pleaded.

  “I’m done with you for tonight. I just want to go home.” I held my temples as a headache began throbbing. Damn margaritas. As we passed the table, I stopped and looked down on the woman who had just ruined my life for the second time.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Noelle. I hope we can do this again soon.” I lied my ass off.

  “Maybe we can all have dinner next week?” she offered.

  Oh yes, for sure. I so wanted to sit at a table with Noelle and Jensen while they talked about their wonderful life together and how many kids they’d have. Let’s throw in a white picket fence while we were at it. I pulled myself together and gave her the best smile I could manage.

  “I would love that.”

  Wyatt drove me home. I sat looking out the passenger side of my Jeep as tall trees whizzed past me.

  Engaged.

  Jensen was engaged.

  How could he not have told me something that fucking important?

  “You’re awfully quiet over there,” Wyatt said.

  “Sorry. I’m not a big drinker.”

  “I know all about you, Serena. Jensen talked about you all the time.”

  I sat up. “He did?”

  “Yes, you were the one that got away.”

  I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. Jensen was my one that got away.

  “Whenever he would get royally drunk, he’d talk about you. How badly he hurt you and how he wanted to make things right.”

  “Well, according to him, he followed my career. He could have found me a million times.”

  “I think by then, he was sure you wouldn’t want to see him.”

  “Well, he was wrong.”

  Wyatt pulled into my driveway and cut the engine. He turned in the seat to look at me.

  “Whatever you think, Jensen loved you.”

  I opened the passenger door and almost stumbled out of my car. Wyatt came around and helped me into the house. I sat down on the couch and covered my face with my hands. Wyatt was somewhere in my kitchen, fumbling in my cabinets. He coughed slightly and I opened my eyes to find a glass of water and two pills in his hand.

  “How bad was I?” I whispered, taking the pills.

  “Not too bad,” Wyatt chuckled.

  “Don’t lie to me.” I reclined on the sofa and sighed loudly.

  “I thought it was pretty damn comical, honestly.”

  “Oh God,” I moaned. “Margaritas always did fuck me up.”

  Wyatt sat on the end of the couch, smiling at me. I cocked a brow.

  “What?”

  “The woman he married? She was a dead ringer for you, dark hair and eyes. I think he thought he’d have you in some small way.”

  “You’re a good guy, Wyatt,” I sighed, closing my eyes.

  “I’ll call a cab. You should really think about getting a guitar.”

  “First on my to do list.” I held up a hand.

  I closed the door and locked it as Wyatt left. I practically crawled up the stairs to my room and flung myself on the bed. The wind rustled my curtains and I closed my eyes.

  Next time, I wouldn’t drink.

  Chapter 9

  I avoided Jensen like the plague for the next three days. I had my guitar lesson with Wyatt. Turned out I was okay with guitars, drums not so much. Maybe it was the drum teacher? I eyed Wyatt’s profile as he talked about my lesson plan. The guy really was cute.

  “Serena?”

  “Yes?”

  “I can’t go there with you.”

  “W-What?” I stammered.

  “Look, don’t get me wrong, you’re hot, but you are also Jensen’s ex.”

  “Yes, ex.”

  Wyatt shook his head with a smile.

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s a bro-code.”

  “Oh God. Not the bro-code.”

  “Yep. No sleeping with each other’s ex anything.” Wyatt turned on the stool and faced me. “No matter what the situation is right now, he still cares about you.”

  “Yeah, right,” I groused.

  “He does. Look, you have to see what Noelle is really like. Then you’ll get it.”

  I pondered that and pulled my phone out of my purse.

  “What are you doing?” Wyatt cocked a brow.

  “Calling Jensen, of course. Let’s have dinner, shall we?” I grinned.

  ~*~

  Jensen reluctantly agreed to dinner. I was sure it had a lot to do with Noelle in the background telling him what a wonderful idea it was.

  Wonderful!

  I pulled up to the restaurant at seven and Wyatt pulled in right behind me. I checked my reflection in the rear view mirror and applied some gloss. Couldn’t hurt to look good, right? I stepped out and Wyatt walked up to me with a grin.

  “So? You ready for this?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure what I’m getting ready for.” I tilted my head to the side. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “You’ll see.”

  We got a table in the back and I perused the menu. Wyatt ordered a beer and reclined in the booth with a grin. I set the menu down and eyed him suspiciously. Before I had a chance to ask anything, a throat cleared and I looked up to see Jensen and Noelle.

  “Hey.” Jensen slid into the booth and Noelle followed.

  “So, what’s good here?” I asked.

  “Oh—” Jensen began.

  “The steak and shrimp are excellent,” Noelle cut in.

  I glanced at Jensen and smiled. “What do you recommend?”

  Jensen blinked and picked up his menu. “Steak and shrimp.”

  I shot a look at Wyatt, who merely shrugged. We all ordered and I made sure I got a water. I wasn’t going to drink again and say something stupid. Actually, I didn’t really need alcohol for that. When I was nervous, I said the stupidest shit.

  “So, Noelle, what is it you do?” I asked.

  “Well, nothing as creative as you.”

  Wyatt snickered and I kicked him under the table.

  “I work for my daddy’s company.” Noelle sipped her wine.

  “What does your daddy do?” I asked, intrigued.

  “He’s into all sorts of things. Oil, gas, real estate. I’m trying to talk Jensen into going to work for him.”

  “Is that right?” I cocked a brow. “I think Jensen is doing okay in the job he has now. More than okay, really.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” Noelle nodded. “But it’s time for him to grow up and take on a serious job. He’s getting too old to play in a band.”

  I inhaled some of the water I had just been drinking and Wyatt slapped my back. I wiped my mouth with a napkin and stared at Noelle.

  “He’s thirty-three,” I drawled.

  “Exactly my point. He needs to settle down and take on a real job,” Noelle pointed out.

  “Settle down?” I laughed. “Have you heard of Mick Jagger or Steven Tyler? They’re still making music.”

  “Jensen needs to take life seriously now. He’s had his partyi
ng days. They need to be put behind him. Plus, he spends months at a time on the road,” Noelle replied icily.

  “Oh, so this has nothing to do with you at all?” I asked.

  “Serena…” Jensen warned.

  “What?” I shot a glare at Jensen. “This has to do with your fiancé being lonely and wanting you with her.”

  “Is there something wrong with that?” Noelle snapped.

  “There is if you started dating him knowing what he did for a living,” I shot back.

  “Of course I knew! I also knew it wouldn’t last long.” Noelle crossed her arms, staring me down.

  “No, you hoped it wouldn’t last long. Isn’t that right, Noelle? Seems to me, you’ve controlled his life from the moment you began seeing each other. Too old to keep touring? Please,” I snorted.

  “You know nothing about our relationship; in fact, you don’t know this Jensen Pratt at all,” Noelle pointed out.

  Poor Jensen sat there like he was watching a tennis match. Head snapping from me to Noelle. I wanted to feel sorry for him, I really did, but I just couldn’t. He was a grown man and should be able to take care of his own shit.

  “Is that what you want, Jensen?’ I asked, gently.

  “We’re leaving.” Noelle stood. “Neither one of us has to answer your questions.”

  “Jensen …” I stood up as well.

  “Sorry,” Jensen mumbled, following Noelle out.

  I collapsed back down in the booth and stared at Wyatt.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered.

  “See?”

  “Beer please!” I called out to the waiter. I glanced at Wyatt. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Since they met. Jensen’s been thinking about leaving the band for months now.”

  “But he loves playing! I remember how he looked when he was behind his drum set.”

  “He’s been really good for the past six months. I haven’t seen Noelle in all that time and he wouldn’t talk about what happened. Hell, I didn’t even know he was engaged.”

  The waiter brought my beer and I downed half of it. I set my pint glass back down and shook my head. Jesus. Jensen wasn’t even Jensen just then. I knew I hadn’t been keeping up with his life, but still, this was weird.

  “You know he went to rehab, right?” Wyatt asked.

  “Yes, he told me.”

  “Did he tell you he went more than once?”

  “No.” I turned in the seat to face Wyatt. “When?”

  “He went in at almost seventeen—”

  “That was right about the time we broke up.”

  “But he went again few years later.”

  “Jesus.” I groaned and held my head.

  “You’re going to have to ask yourself if you’re ready to take this Jensen, warts and all.”

  I locked eyes with Wyatt. “I would take him no matter what. I never stopped loving him, Wyatt. I never will.”

  “Well then, I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  ~*~

  I didn’t hear from Jensen except in text messages to let me know he was cancelling our drum lessons for the week. I texted him back, but he didn’t answer me. The sky had opened up and thunder rocked my house. I loved rainstorms, I loved them even more in Arizona. My curtain fluttered from the open sliding glass door in my room as I settled in to watch TV. Nothing was on and I’d read everything on my damn kindle. I stared at the bottom drawer of the nightstand and let out a breath.

  Might as well play, maybe I would feel better.

  I threw in some gay porn and put new batteries in my toy. I pulled up an image of Jensen, pants down, cock hanging out with me on my knees worshiping it. I loved blowing him, he was so damn responsive. My phone shrilled and my hand jerked. I stared at the caller I.D. and frowned. Damn Ann, did she know when I was masturbating? It wasn’t the first time she’d called while I was…um, busy. The guy on screen was giving his best orgasm look and wail as I picked up the phone.

  “Ann,” I said, trying to sound calm.

  “Dumpling! Is that porn I hear?”

  I hit mute.

  “Nope.”

  “Liar. Tell me, is it two men or two women or a man and a woman?”

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m calling to check in. Didn’t you miss me?”

  I could almost see that pout she always gave me. I flopped back on the pillows with an exaggerated sigh.

  “Sure I did. Things aren’t going so well here.”

  “Tell me all about it, Love.”

  So I did. It felt good to release all that anger and frustration. Ann did her normal “uh huh’s” and “oh I see’s” while I told her of the fucked up week I’d had.

  “Well, sounds like you need to take a cattle prod to his ass.”

  “And where would I find a cattle prod?” I asked.

  “I’m sure there’s a farm store out there somewhere, but I’m not saying that literally. You need to verbally cattle prod him.”

  “Say what?”

  “Look, darling, this is the deal. Do you love this guy?”

  “Yes. Dammit, I still do.”

  “Okay then. He doesn’t know that though, right?”

  “Nope.”

  “You have to shock the shit out of him. Lay it all out on the line and let the chips fall where they may.”

  “What if they fall in Noelle’s lap?”

  “Well then, I hate to say this, but maybe he’s just not that into you anymore.”

  “You didn’t see him, Ann. When we were together he was happy. The fucker was smiling and laughing! Then when we were intimate—”

  “Wait, what? You didn’t say anything about being intimate!”

  “Fingers in my pussy, intimate.”

  “Damn, I need to fan myself. You mean he didn’t need a crowbar to get in there?”

  “Very funny.”

  “Did he fuck you?”

  “No. I didn’t let it get that far.”

  “For fuck’s sake, why not? I want pictures and video, dammit!”

  “Ann,” I sighed loudly.

  “Oh sweet cakes, you really do love him, don’t you?”

  “Didn’t I just say that?”

  “Yes, but I say that all the time and don’t mean it. Men are so stupid sometimes.”

  “You want to know what’s really killing me right now? All I can think about is her with him. I know they are together right now and I’m thinking, does he feel the same way with her that he does with me?”

  “Aw hun, once he slides into that tight pussy of yours, you’ll have him.”

  “I don’t want him to want me for sex, Ann,” I said in exasperation.

  “I know. I’m trying to lighten your mood. I’m sorry this is hurting you. Why don’t you try to find someone for casual sex? Maybe that will take your mind off of it.”

  “I don’t know…” I chewed on the end of my nail.

  “Stop biting your nails.”

  “Jesus, do you have supersonic hearing or what?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Maybe I installed a camera in your house.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past you,” I laughed.

  “I’d be bored with the bedroom footage,” Ann deadpanned.

  “Ann, what am I going to do?” I whispered.

  “We’ll figure it out, snookums.”

  Chapter 10

  I hung out with Aarin, Mikey, and Doug over the next week. I didn’t hear a peep out of Jensen. I was really starting to worry about him. The crowd at Maloney’s was loud and boisterous this evening. Most of the tables were crowded with college kids as I sat with the guys, sipping my Guinness and munching on fries. I didn’t tell the guys about my run in with Jensen’s fiancé, Noelle. I really didn’t want to rehash it, or think about it, at all. My phone pinged and I looked down at the screen. I had a text from Jensen. My heart raced as I read it.

  Where are you?

  Maloney’s

  Can I meet you there?

  You can do wha
tever you want. I’m here with a few guys.

  Replaced me already?

  You have a fiancé, remember?

  Not anymore.

  I squashed the elation rising in my chest and texted back.

  What do you mean?

  Can I just meet you?

  I guess. Like I said though, I’m not alone.

  Can you be?

  I’m not going to leave the guys just because you text me. Just meet me here.

  Are you pissed off at me still?

  No, Jensen. I’m not pissed.

  Okay, but I’m afraid if I meet you, I might get pregnant.

  I snicker and texted back.

  Don’t be silly, I always use protection.

  “Who ya texting?”

  I looked up to see all three guys smiling at me.

  “Um, Jensen,” I replied.

  “Oh?” Aarin cocked a brow.

  “I guess he’s joining us, if that’s okay?” I said, slowly.

  “Drinks with Jensen Pratt?” Aarin laughed. “Hell yes, it’s okay.”

  I texted Jensen back, then placed my phone on the table. I didn’t know if he would actually show up. I hoped he would. I wanted to talk to him about what he said.

  Jensen walked in fifteen minutes later and the whole place started clapping. I smiled as Jensen shook hands with all the people around him and signed autographs. He looked so damn happy just then. He spotted us and waved, and I scooted over in the booth to make room for him. As soon as Jensen sat down beside me, he reached for my hand, threaded our fingers together, and then met eyes with me.

  “Um, should we like, scatter?” Aarin grinned at us.

  “Hell no,” Jensen said, shaking their hands. “How have you guys been?”

  “Still playing,” Mikey answered.

  “Good to hear.”

  I stayed quiet as Jensen and the guys talked about music and touring. Mentally, I was taking notes on everything. Anything that could help me write this heterosexual book was worth it. We stayed until one, and then Aarin and the guys took off, leaving me alone with Jensen. I wasn’t sure what to say or how to act. Jensen took my hand as we hit the street.

  “Where did you park?”

  “Over on your avenue.” I smiled.

  “Ah, the J Pratt Ave. Yes, I know it well.”