Questionable Love (A Love Beyond Labels #2)

by Danielle Rocco

  “Nope, impatient boy. You are going to have to wait at least a year.” Now he’s the one being fooled. “It takes time to plan a wedding, and I want to spend time with a couple of people we haven’t even talked about yet before I send them an invitation.”

  “We don’t need invitations.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  “Then I’ll make them myself.”

  “How are you going to make wedding invitations?”

  “The only invitation I want family to get is a heart cut out of pink paper with big bold black words that say My girl is finally becoming my wife. Come and watch our epic moment when I slip forever onto her finger.”

  “That’s what you want to write?”

  “Yeah, or I’ll just put Jace and Shay Forever. Come and watch my girl become mine.”

  “You are so silly.” I shake my head. My phone rings, and he gets up and kisses me. “I’m going to take a shower, baby,” he says as I pick up my phone. I watch my naked, hot fiancé walk into the bathroom as I listen to Jules on the other end of the phone.

  “You haven’t answered any of my texts all morning, so I’m assuming you stopped torturing your ex-jailbird and finally let him release into the wild. I mean you, release into you… That’s what I meant to say.”

  “You seriously think that was funny? ‘Release into the wild’?”

  “Well, yeah, he’s an ex-jailbird. Get it…bird? And, well, yeah, you’re right. You aren’t really wild, Starkie.”

  “I can be wild.”

  “You can? I don’t really see you as being wild.”

  “And, you are, Jules?”

  “What? I’m wild?”

  “Yeah, are you wild, virgin girl?”

  “In my thoughts, I’m a freakin’ freak, Starkie. So, yes, I believe whoever is lucky to get my sweet virginity is going to think I’m one crazy, wild ride.”

  I start laughing hard. “You so crazy, Jules!” Jace comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He pushes his wet hair back and smiles.

  “What’s so funny, baby?”

  “Don’t you dare tell him what I said, Starkie!” Jules yells into the phone. “I mean it! You already told him I said you’re ugly when you cry! Some things need to stay sacred in our best friend world. He can’t know everything!”

  “Nothing,” I tell him, looking at his sexy abs.

  “Don’t keep secrets from your boy.” He walks up to me and grabs my phone. “Don’t try to corrupt my girl, Jules.”

  I hear Jules yell, “I’m not a corrupter, Jace!”

  “Yeah, you are. I know you’re the one that got my girl hooked on all those romance books when she was too young to be reading that stuff.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with reading books about hot guys, Jace!” she screams into the phone.

  “My girl has a hot guy that treats her better than all that stuff you girls read.” He looks at me. “You always tell me I’m your sexy boy. Right, baby?” I roll my eyes, seeing him looking like an underwear model standing over me in a little white towel.

  “How do you know what’s inside those pages?”

  “I know about that book all the girls talked about that they made into a movie.”

  “Oh my God, put Shay back on the phone, you alpha boy!” I hear Jules say. He hands me the phone, smiling.

  “She talks like you, calling me alpha boy. Where do you girls get this stuff?”

  “From those romance books.”

  “You don’t need to read about alpha boys when you got your own tough boy to take care of,” he whispers endearingly.

  “I think I take care of you just fine.”

  “Better than fine,” he says, grabbing my hand and putting it over his towel to feel him. “You feel what just looking at you does to me?” He laughs. “Tell her we’re getting married tomorrow. I want to hear her talk a hundred miles an hour about why it’s not enough time to plan it.” I shake my head no.

  “So, what’s up, Jules?” I ask her.

  “You have a photo shoot today. Actually, in an hour.”

  “A photo shoot?”

  “It’s a magazine spread for new artists taking Hollywood by storm.”

  Jace looks at me, and I can see it bothers him by the way he pulls at his hair. Reality is about to hit us in the face now that I’ve become a new artist on the scene, a scene that my boy is not really fond of.

  IT’S A DIFFERENT LOOK

  SHAY WALKS OUT from behind a little curtain, and the tank top and ripped jeans she walked in here with are replaced with a skimpy, black, lacy-looking dress, barely covering her body. I breathe in deep, standing in the back of the room and watching some guys that I’m pretty sure like to date other guys, put makeup on her face, while a girl loaded with tattoos with bright blue hair makes Shay’s hair look pin straight, taking all her pretty waves away. She looks absolutely beautiful, I’m not going to lie, but it’s a different look for my girl. It makes her look a lot older, and the makeup is way too much. The bright lips that have replaced my coconut-lined pretty pout have my blood pumping a little too fast.

  SHE’S LIKE A SIREN

  I SEE JACE STANDING in the back of the room—white T-shirt stretched tight as he crosses his arms and tightens his jaw as “the crew” as they call themselves fixes me up for my photo shoot. My boy does not look happy.

  “You look so fucking hot,” one of the gay makeup artists says loudly. I glance at Jace, and he looks ready to tell him off. Oh my God, Jace hates this.

  “Hey, bro, watch your mouth in front of my girl,” he says from the back of the room. He’s going to get in a fight.

  “Who’s that? He’s so good-looking,” the guy says flamboyantly.

  “That’s my boyfriend.”

  “Wow, he’s sexy.” Jace starts walking over to me as the make up guy says, “Doesn’t your girlfriend look amazing with these red lips? She’s like a siren.”

  “What the heck is a ‘siren’?” my boy asks, making the guy laugh.

  “She’s like a sex goddess.” He walks away with a lot of pep in his step. Jace looks at me, pulling his brows together.

  “Do you hate the way I look?” I ask him nervously. His eyes soften.

  “No, I don’t hate the way you look, but I’d like it better behind closed doors for my eyes only.” I look down, feeling really uncomfortable with this “siren” kind of look. Jace pulls my chin up to meet his eyes. “You are so pretty. I’m just not comfortable with the way he talked to you or about you. If you’re going to be anyone’s goddess, I just want you to be all mine.”

  “I’m sorry. If you feel disrespected, I won’t do it.”

  “I don’t feel disrespected. You’re so cute. If this is what you want to do, then I support you.”

  “Well, I don’t want to ever do something that will affect us negatively.” He cups my face, and I lean into him, placing a little soft kiss onto the palm of his hand just like he does to me. “Look at your palm, babe.” He looks down and sees a big red lip imprint where I kissed him.

  The photographer walks into the room and calls me over to the black curtain backdrop. “Go show him your pretty smile,” Jace says sweetly as I walk away.

  I get a quick primping by “the crew” and watch Jace look at his red-lipped kiss I left behind on his strong hand. When I see the shirtless guy walking toward me, ready to walk past Jace, I start to panic a little bit inside.

  SEX SELLS

  AS I STARE AT HER bright red kiss against my palm, I feel someone walk past me. I look up and see a very model-looking dude walking up to Shay and wrapping his arms around her. Who the hell is that guy?

  “Put your hands on her hips and lean in,” the photographer says. The shirtless model leans in and goes to place his hands on the hips that belong to me. No fucking way that is happening!

  “Umm, I didn’t know I was being photographed with a model,” Shay says.

  “You have the hottest love song out there right now, and the magazine wants to show a
sexy side to your music.”

  “Well, I’m not really wanting to do that type of photo. I’d prefer to take a picture leaning against my guitar. It’s about the music, not the look to me anyway, and I’d like the way I’m perceived to reflect that.”

  My heart fills with so much damn respect for my girl in this moment. She’s not that little sassy girl that I met. I mean, she is, but she’s a strong, young woman that stands her ground with what she believes in. And, if you ask me, that’s sexy as hell, not that damn red lipstick they put all over my coconut mouth. I stand back and watch her do her thing, trying not to show my “alpha” side.

  “It’s just a photo, and sex sells,” the photographer says, making my heartbeat find my neck.

  “I’m selling a song, not sex,” Shay counters. I look down at her hand as she rubs at her wrist where her bracelet used to be. Where the hell is that bracelet? God, please let us find it. She loves it so much.

  “You do see how you look in this dress and makeup, right? It’s a very sexy look.” He continues snapping me out of my thoughts, and now I’m two seconds from losing it.

  “If I had known that I was going to be made up like this and taking a picture with a shirtless guy that has nothing to do with the song I wrote, then I would not have done the magazine spread when asked,” she says, starting to get upset. Okay, I waited. Now I’m pissed he’s not respecting her.

  “She’s not taking a picture with him,” I tell the photographer, then look at the model. “You can probably leave. She’s not going to be photographed with you.”

  “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

  “I’m her boyfriend, and I’m the only one that’s placed hands on those hips…if you know what I mean.” The model backs off, knowing that I’m serious as hell. The photographer just stands there. “If you want to take her picture the way she asked to do it, that would be appreciated. But, if you have a problem with her request, then she will decline the shoot like she told you.”

  “They want her in the new artist spread,” he says, changing his tone with me. “Then take my girl’s picture with her guitar like she wants to do, and then they get her in the spread.” Shay smiles as I cross my arms and stare the photographer down. “All right, let’s take a few shots with your guitar,” he says. Shay grabs her guitar and puts it in front of her. She smiles so pretty while leaning against one hip. I stare at her as the photographer takes a bunch of shots, and for a moment, I see her when she brought her guitar to the center that very first time and showed me how to play, when she showed me a little taste of our song years later. I can’t help it. I wish we could go back to those days all over again, just to relive every special moment when it was just she and I and our little bubble we lived in.

  DRIVE-ME-CRAZY-TEENAGE-BOY GRIN

  I FINISH THE AWKWARD photo shoot, and Jace and I walk to my car. He places my guitar in the backseat and opens my door for me. I slide down into my seat and put my clothes on the floor. I didn’t bother changing back into my clothes. The dress was a gift from one of the clothing designers taking part in dressing the artist doing the spread, and I just wanted to get out of there. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, I’m super hungry.”

  “That’s because I took so much energy out of you all night,” he says, winking.

  “Okay, cocky boy.”

  He chuckles. “I’m not cocky. I was just trying to keep up with my siren.”

  “Oh yes, how could I forget? I’m a sex goddess.” I giggle. “That was so stupid.”

  “It wasn’t stupid. He was right. You are my sexy goddess.” He kisses my lips, then leans over and buckles my seatbelt.

  “All right, safe boy, I think you safely buckled my seatbelt,” I tell him as he looks up at me, smiling wide. “What are you smiling about?” He puts his hand down between the seat and console.

  “Something just caught my eye.” He places his lips next to my ear. “I told you. You could never lose my love.” With a strangled sigh, he pulls his hand out. “Put your hand out.” I do what he says, and he places my charm bracelet into the palm of my hand. I start to cry uncontrollably. “You will never lose my love, Shay,” he says, kissing my cry-filled lips.

  “Put it on my wrist.” I cry the happiest tears ever. I don’t even care if I look ugly right now. I’m so happy my heart could literally burst open and pour little tiny charms everywhere. I watch as Jace’s big fingers try to clasp it, and when he finally does, I lift up my wrist and make sure every single charm is perfectly in place. “Oh, Jace, I was so heartbroken.”

  “You don’t remember taking it off in the car?”

  “Now that we found it, and I can finally think straight with you being home, I kinda do remember.”

  “Why would you take it off in the car?”

  “I only took it off because I was going into the prison to see you. I took it off the day I found out you were released, and when I got back in the car upset, I threw my purse on the seat. It must have knocked my charm bracelet off.”

  “I’m sorry for putting you through so much,” he says, kissing my wrist. “I’m just glad we found it. I was pretty bummed not seeing it on your wrist.”

  “Me, too. You have no idea how much I love it.”

  “I know you love it, and I think you’ve earned some new charms coming your way.” He grins from ear to ear. “Where’s my girl want to eat?”

  Finally getting my appetite back with my boy home and my charm bracelet perfectly back in its place, I have Jace pull over to one of my favorite places on Melrose Avenue. Hand-in-hand, without a care in the world, we walk in and sit down at a table overlooking the little front patio. I look at Jace who has had his face in the menu since we were seated five minutes ago.

  “What are you getting, serious boy?”

  “All these sandwiches to choose from, and they don’t have a peanut butter and jelly on this entire menu.” He looks up from the menu.

  “Jace, it’s an upscale café.”

  “Every restaurant that serves sandwiches should have peanut butter and jelly.” He furrows his eyebrows. “Don’t people come here with their kids? I can guarantee kids don’t eat arugula sandwiches.” I roll my eyes as he makes a scrunched-up face. “I’m just telling you now. We’re not coming to a place like this when we have kids. I want them to eat normal food.”

  “There’s plenty of normal food on this menu.”

  “Is a grilled beet salad normal food to you?”

  “Yes, I love beets. They’re good for you.”

  “Don’t ever make me a beet salad.”

  “You can’t live off peanut butter and jelly.”

  “Order what you want, baby. I’ll have you make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when we get home.”

  “Eat soup, picky boy.” He grins that sexy take-his-shirt-off-drive-me-crazy teenage boy grin.

  “How about I wait and eat something else later?”

  “Jace!”

  “I’m talking about you making me one of your special peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Get your mind out of the gutter, dirty girl.” He chuckles and leans over. “Besides, they wouldn’t have cut it into a heart for me anyway. I want my girl to make me a sandwich.”

  “Aw, such a swoony boy.” I giggle. He rolls his pale blues at me. The waitress hasn’t come over yet, so I stand up out of my chair.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Going home to make my boy some heart-shaped love.”

  “Don’t you want some fancy salad?”

  “Nope. I want to eat peanut butter off my boy’s sloppy mouth,” I say. He slides out of his seat and grabs my hand.

  “I’ve missed my heart-shaped love my girl makes me.”

  We walk quickly out of the café, only to get bombarded with chaos.

  “Shay, can you look over here?” a photographer asks.

  Snap…snap…snap…

  “Is this your long-time boyfriend who just got out of prison?” another says.

  Snap…snap…snap…<
br />
  Cameras and cell phones are in our face, flashes are going off, and loud voices are ringing in my ear. Jace protectively puts his arm around my shoulder.

  “Does he know about your time with Hunter Daniels?” the first photographer asks.

  Snap…snap…snap…

  Jace pushes through the small crowd that has gathered from the attention the paparazzi are causing.

  “I know what my girl does when I’m not with her.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Jace, don’t engage with them.”

  “Was ‘Moon and Stars’ written for him?” a young girl asks, standing with her cell phone directed toward us. I don’t want to look rude like the girls at the nail salon thought I was, so I answer her.

  “Yes, every song I write is written for him, including ‘Moon and Stars.’”

  She smiles wide, then without warning as Jace is getting my keys out of his pocket, one of the rude photographers shoves his camera in my face, pushing me back and trying to get a picture of Jace and me together. Jace takes his arm off from around my shoulder.

  “You just pushed my girl! Don’t ever get in her face like that again!” He walks toward the photographer.

  Snap…snap…snap…

  “Did you just hear me?” The paparazzi steps back against the car parked on the side of the curb with a sly grin. Jace is pissed, and that “alpha boy” Jules and I kid about comes out full force. When it does, Jace is very intimidating. “Do you find it funny? You could have hurt her,” he says, getting up in the guy’s personal space.

  Panic runs through me, past mistakes surface, and I yell, “Jace!” Frantic when the night he was taken away from me washes over my mind like an earthquake coming out of nowhere, and I see a dark sky, flashing red and blue lights, and Jace and Cole on the ground. I see a police officer throw Jace back onto the concrete, his forehead slice open, soaking his white T-shirt in his blood. I see him handcuffed and ripped away from me. We can’t go through this again.