by Sierra Hill
Remy wasn’t possessive in the same manner that Seth had been with her. The things he did to her made it very clear that she belonged to him, but in a comforting way. His actions told her he wanted to take care of her, not take anything from her. He was giving and kind, generous to a fault. In and out of bed.
She had to clear her head of all these lustful thoughts she was having so she got up from the couch to head into the kitchen where Amanda was making some sort of cheese dip.
“Can I help you with anything in here?” she asked, picking up a bottled beer cap and tossing it in the trash bin.
Poor Amanda looked like she was about to pop at any minute. It had to be uncomfortable being that pregnant, but Amanda just smiled good-naturedly, making sure everyone had enough food and drink. She and Nick really did make an odd, albeit, cute couple. While Nick was very sweet, he had the maturity level of a sixth grade boy. He was a tall and goofy guy, always messing around and being a prankster. Whereas Amanda was as darling as they come – a first grade teacher with soft red curly hair and a short, somewhat round body. Of course, that might just be from the pregnancy.
Whether it was the hormones or not, Amanda did possess a ethereal glow about her. She laughed often and was kind to a fault. And that generosity extended to Kenzie on both occasions that she’d been around her.
“Absolutely not. You’re a guest. Please, just enjoy yourself,” Amanda said, waving off Kenzie’s offer to assist in whatever she was currently doing. She smiled then, her freckled nose scrunching up in delight. “I’m so glad you’re here today. You have no idea how hard it is to keep those boys entertained.”
Kenzie looked back into the cramped living room where Remy and Nick lounged, both of them pumping fists in the air and cheering at the play that they’d just witnessed. She laughed at their exuberant actions, dipping a carrot into the creamy sauce that was on the counter in front of her.
“Speaking of boys, Remy told me you’re having a baby boy. That’s so great. Do you have a name picked out yet?”
Amanda lit up at the mention of her baby’s gender and plopped down on the chair with a loud groan, rubbing her protruding baby bump.
“Yep, he’s a boy all right. Always kicking and beating on his invisible drums inside of his mama’s belly. My worst fear and greatest joy is the thought that he’s going to be just like his daddy.” They both laughed at the reference to Nick, who was now on his feet doing some sort of touchdown dance, whooping and hollering in his excitement.
Turning back to Amanda, she saw a woman so in love with her man and the idea that her soon-to-be-born son would be just like him, it made her smile.
“So are you keeping the name a secret, or are you sharing that with people?”
“His name is Rivers. Nick grew up listening to Weezer and convinced me to name him after Rivers Cuomo, the lead singer. I actually think it’s a cool name and has some sentimental value. Nick didn’t have a very happy childhood, so music brought him hope. I guess it puts everything into perspective – this life we’re bringing into the world and all the hope and love that comes along with it.”
“Well shit, you can’t ask for more than that in a name,” Kenzie joked. Unlike all her girlfriends in junior high and high school, she’d never really put a lot of thought into what she’d name her children if she ever had a family. Her best friend Dena from high school already had two with her high school sweetheart and had their names picked out as soon as they started dating.
To her it just seemed strange to think about getting pregnant or having kids when she hadn’t found anyone yet who she thought was deemed husband material. It had just never been a defined goal to get married. Her life’s ambition was to become a musician and songwriter first and foremost. She wanted to make people happy and to help them forget their troubles through the songs she wrote and performed.
It wasn’t fame she craved. Seeing her name in lights on a billboard wasn’t what she aspired to have. What she longed for and dreamed of, ever since she was a child, was sharing a story that others could relate to. Translating an experience, or emotion or idea into something another human being could understand and hopefully be enriched by.
“So what about you?” Amanda asked, breaking into her thoughts. “What’s going on between you and Remy? You two look pretty comfortable together.” She grinned widely, her eyebrows quirking up in a devious gesture.
Caught off guard, Kenzie took another bite of a carrot to give her some time to think over her response. What was going on between her and Remy? They hadn’t defined anything yet. The only thing she knew for certain was that they were temporary roommates who slept together and just recorded a demo. Was there even a definition for who they were to each other?
“Uh…well, to be honest, I don’t know what’s going on exactly.” She grabbed a napkin and absently wiped the counter in front of her. It was so easy to pour out her feelings in song lyrics but to spit them out to someone directly took a lot more courage. “I really like Remy. A lot.”
There, she admitted it. That wasn’t so hard, right? Easy peasy.
Amanda leaned over as much as her bump would allow and patted Kenzie’s hands. “Yeah, that much is fairly obvious. And I can see without a doubt, that boy is crazy-fucked-head-over-heels over you. I’ve never seen him like this,” she grinned, her brown eyes sparkling. “I didn’t know him when he was with what’s-her-face, but I could tell she did a number on him. He has a big heart. I think he’s tried really hard to play the stereotypical musician manwhore, you know, but that’s just not him. I can tell he needs something serious – someone to love. He has a lot to offer a girl. But it could leave him exposed.”
Kenzie just shook her head in dumbfounded agreement. She obviously didn’t know what Remy was like before they met and moved in together. And with the exception of the chick he brought home a week ago, she’d never seen him on the take with other girls. And good thing because she could easily envision her green talons coming out and ripping to shreds any girl who tried to make a move on him.
Remy was hers.
Holy bitch-slap, Batman.
She did not need to have these kind of possessive thoughts about Remy. They weren’t even a couple. Nothing had changed between them except sex. A lot of great sex. Thinking about a relationship would only cause these jealous feelings to interfere with her sanity. It could only tarnish and ruin the great thing they had going.
Plus, he was a hot musician, for God sake. Young co-ed’s and female fans would constantly throw themselves at Remy – it was an inevitable fact of the life he’d chosen. And if he were anything like his father…well, she didn’t think that was the case. But, if he did become famous and start to tour, that could be exactly the path he might follow.
“Don’t worry, Amanda. I don’t want anything long-term with Remy. It isn’t serious. We’re just having fun.”
Chapter Nineteen
Remy was acting like a fucking preschooler in a snit over not getting something he wanted. He knew that his behavior was childish and immature, but he was acting like a tool to everyone anyway. Especially Kenzie.
Whether he admitted it or not, after overhearing Kenzie tell Amanda in the kitchen that she was “just having fun” and that she didn’t want to be serious, his mood plummeted. He thought they had finally made some progress and were ready to move forward as a couple when her words practically crippled him.
He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He’d gone looking for a beer during a break in the game when he’d accidentally overheard his name mentioned. His ears instinctively perked up. So sue him. What he heard sent him reeling in disbelief. The fact that Kenzie had confided in Amanda, downplaying their relationship and stating that she wasn’t looking for anything long-term with him had Remy seeing red.
Everything that had happened up to that point was leading to a long-term relationship. He was certain of it, especially after admitting his feelings to her about how much he cared for her. He thought he’d made it very clear that he
wanted her to be his. Didn’t that scream something more meaningful than friends? Wasn’t that the whole idea of what being a couple was all about – commitment and togetherness? Was he on some other planet when he practically spouted his undying devotion to her?
Jesus, women could be so crazy sometimes.
And he was a fucking moron for being such a pussy over this girl – it pissed him off. He was so angry with himself that he’d allowed himself to fall so hard for Kenzie – his beautiful muse.
Should he have read her cues more closely? Hadn’t she said she wanted nothing to change and was adamant that they not ruin their friendship? And did he listen to her? Hell to the no. He listened to his fucking cock – which, come on, is never going to be honest with a guy, for Christ’s sake.
He sat stewing over his predicament when his phone rang. He looked down at the number on his display that he didn’t recognize.
Picking it up, he answered, sitting back in his chair with a sigh. “This is Remy.”
A loud noise on the other end, sounding like the shrill of a siren in street traffic, had him pulling the phone away from his ear and mumbling a curse.
“Hello, Remy? Are you there?” An unfamiliar female voice, loud over the noise, spoke to him from the other end of the line. He heard the sound of a door opening and closing in the background and then silence.
“This is Deirdre Mills, your father’s promotions director. Sorry for the distracting noise – I’m just getting into a cab for JFK. I’m calling to let you know that Luc has asked me to leave two VIP tickets in your name at the box office for the show on Saturday night. He’s really looking forward to having you there.”
Oh shit, he had forgotten about the upcoming gig his dad was playing at the Ryman. With everything going on with Kenzie, he’d pushed his dad’s visit to the back of his mind. In fact, part of him thought his dad would simply blow him off like he’d done so many times throughout his childhood. Wasn’t that what he was good at - making promises that he couldn’t deliver? Yeah, that was his impression of his old man. C’est la vie, right?
“Um, yeah, thanks.” He swung his feet down off the desk and leaned forward, his elbows pressed to his thighs. “What time does the show start?”
Horns blaring in the background had Remy grateful he lived in Nashville, a much more civilized environment. Less people, less traffic, less chaos. He’d come to love living in this part of the country where people were actually friendly and never phony like they were in LA or overly pretentious like New Yorkers. People in the south had manners and class, even if they did sound funny when they talked.
“Well, the show begins at eight-thirty, but Luc had requested that you arrive earlier to enjoy the pre-show celebration – drinks, food, music. And of course, after the concert will be a post-party. We can send a town car to your place to pick you and your guest up, if you’d like. That way you can enjoy the event without having to worry about transportation. Your dad gave me your address, so I’ll arrange for them to pick you up at six-thirty if that works for you.”
Well hell, he couldn’t exactly say no to that. Although it didn’t impress him in the slightest, maybe Kenzie would like to enjoy the glitz and glamour of the rock star world. She didn’t come across as a girl who put a lot of stock in those sorts of things – the lifestyles of the rich and famous – but she might like to live a little out of her normal routine. So yeah, why not?
“Okay. That sounds fine. I appreciate that.”
“Of course, of course. No problem,” she replied, sounding now like she was walking into the airport terminal. “Anything for Luc Martins’ son. We’ll look forward to seeing you on Saturday night, Remy. Cheers.”
“”Bye.”
Hanging up with a click, Remy decided he should text Kenzie to let her know of the event – he didn’t want to assume her availability. It would be their first real formal date as a couple…or whatever they were to each other at the moment. Remy hoped that a high-class night out on the town would do the trick in getting her to see him as boyfriend material. If the thing with his dad could make that happen, he wasn’t about to pass on it.
****
Kenzie had been swamped all day, filling in for one of the other waitresses who’d stayed home to take care of her sick son. She and Donita picked up the slack, running extra coverage for the biggest breakfast crowd they’d seen in ages.
She’d barely had time for a few sips of her coffee which had gone cold since the last time she took a drink. Her phone had buzzed inside her waitress apron over the past few minutes, so she thought it was as good as time as any to take a quick break.
Making her way through the kitchen, she pushed out the backdoor to step outside into the alley, which was lined with industrial green trash bins and employee cars. Pulling the phone out, she saw the first one was from Remy.
Hey Pix. I’m sorry I was such an ass yesterday. Forgive me?
She couldn’t help the smile that formed on her mouth at the use of his new nickname for her. She kind of liked it. But her smile quickly faded, her lips pursing in thought as she recalled his little melt down from the previous evening.
They’d been getting along so well since they’d recorded their demo together, and she finally felt able to let her guard down, letting go of the worry over him turning into a slime ball like Seth. Remy would never hurt her like her douchebag ex had done. He just didn’t have the same violent tendencies like she’d witnessed in Seth’s actions. But she’d never seen Remy really upset until last night.
He’d been home on the couch when she’d returned home from work, dropping her messenger bag on the kitchen counter and sauntering over to sit down next to him. He hadn’t looked up at her when she came in, which she found strange, but figured he was just deep in thought.
He was lightly strumming his guitar, entrenched in the music when she slid next to him, draping her arm on the back of the couch and running her hands through his hair. He immediately jerked his shoulder and head back in the other direction, clearly not in the mood to be touched. His action had Kenzie flinching involuntarily.
Whoa. Moody much?
It felt like she’d landed in the Artic Circle the minute she sat down next to him. Not the warm, touchy-feely Remy she’d been used to over the previous week when he couldn’t keep his hands off her. It wasn’t like she needed that type of physical confirmation or anything, but she’d quickly grown used to having his hands all over her when they were together.
Whether he was lightly brushing her cheek with the pad of his thumb or holding her hand as they walked to the grocery store and back or his firm, wet lips devouring every inch of her body when they were alone together – she’d become accustomed to his physicality. She craved it.
But now? He was distant. Icy. Unnaturally temperamental. And dare she say, grumpy?
“Hey, Forest Grump. What’s going on with you?” She tried to lighten the mood with a little teasing, but it definitely missed the intended mark.
“I’m busy, Kenz. Jesus, can’t I just get a little time to myself? I’m not always happy and cheerful like you, Miss Whistle-While-You-Work. Give me some fucking space here.”
What the hell?
Talk about a slap in the face. The vehemence in his words was so hurtful and callous, it felt like he’d smacked her across the cheek hard enough to shake loose her molars. Kenzie jumped back and clamored off the couch, confused by his reproach.
Was he off his meds or something? It’s not as if she was some smothering and hen-pecking girlfriend, following his every step and constantly getting in his way. Their arrangement had worked well so far, each of them enjoying each other’s company and presence, yet also not letting it interfere with their outside interests or friendships. The way he made it sound, she was cramping his style like a child clinging to his mother’s leg.
Kenzie turned around and mumbled apologetically. “Oh – okay. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone then. Didn’t mean to be a nuisance.” She headed toward the kitchen
to grab her bag before heading into her room, softly closing the door behind her.
She’d remained in her bedroom for an hour, listening to some music and checking her email before she heard the front door open and close. Curiosity got the best of her, so she quietly opened the door, peering down the hallway. Silence filled the air.
“Remy? Are you still here?”
No answer. She treaded out to the living room where the only light came from the small kitchen light over the sink. The place was quiet and empty. He’d obviously left – without so much as a goodbye or a note to let her know where he was going. Or when he’d be home. Or who he’d be with.
She hadn’t expected that. It wasn’t like the Remy she knew, who was usually thoughtful and courteous with her. He had always said good-bye or texted to let her know if he’d be working late or going out to grab a beer with his friends. Something had obviously gotten under his skin and he was upset over something. Was it something she did? She racked her brain to come up with anything she may have done or said that could have pissed him off so royally.
She scanned the apartment to see if she’d inadvertently left a mess behind in her haste to get to work that morning. Nope, not that. She had picked up her things and put away her dishes from breakfast, just like always. She never wanted Remy to regret inviting her to be his temporary roommate by something as stupid as being a slob. Kenzie made it a priority to ensure she was tidy and respectful of their shared space.
So what was it, then? What bee flew up his butt and got him so prickly with her? Based on her volatile experience with Seth, who would stay in his funk for days and then suddenly return to his bright and sweet self – leaving her with emotional whiplash, she’d come to realize it didn’t always have to do with her. Anything could set him off and he’d just take it out on her, anyhow. Not a great way to evoke trust in a relationship.
