My wife is a fucking angry firecracker right now, and she’s testing me.
“I enjoy it, yes.”
“But not with me?”
I squint my eyes in confusion. “What?”
She points to the door. “Why can’t you show people who I am? Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to wait out front and beg the security guard to let me in? He didn’t believe I was your wife because no one has ever seen us together.”
“I do it to protect you and Noah.”
Josie crosses her arms over her chest. “Noah’s not here and we’re not at home. When you have the opportunity to showcase, you don’t.”
This woman infuriates me. She doesn’t want to be a part of this side of my life, but wants people to see us together? I can’t fucking win.
“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I grab her hand and bag and push the door open. This time they’re waiting. They know we have to come out of the door and everyone is there waiting for us, both fans and paparazzi. Between the screams for my name, the hands grabbing me and the light bulbs going off, I’m disoriented.
Josie clutches the back of my shirt with her freehand, a move she’s done many times back when we were younger. I loved it then and I love it now. I keep her close, and can feel her knees bumping into her suitcase.
My name is yelled and questions are tossed out. Who is she? What about Layla? Did I file for divorce? They’re in luck tonight because I’ll actually answer a question for them.
As luck would have it, there’s a waiting cab that we rush to. I open the door and Josie slides in. I should follow her, but I stop to turn and face everyone instead.
“To answer your question, the woman with me tonight is my wife. As for Layla, she and I are friends. Nothing more.”
I slide in and shut the door, telling the cabbie where to go. Josie is staring out the window and when I try to pull her closer, she takes her hand away from me. Fuck! I lean my head back and close my eyes. How did something as simple as coming to play a few shows end up in such a cluster fuck? I don’t know if it’s Moreno or that fucking book, but things with Josie haven’t been right since I mentioned coming back to LA. I know what this town means to her maybe I shouldn’t have come back at all.
The bellhop is there to open the door when we arrive. Josie gets out while I toss some twenties at the driver. I grab her hand and pull her through the lobby. People stop and look, but only long enough to see who we are before they go about their business.
Thankfully, the elevator is already at the lobby; the only problem is that it takes forever to get to my floor. When the doors open, I don’t take her hand. The show’s over and we’re clearly fighting. Her footsteps are quick behind mine as she follows me down the hall. I open the door, holding it for her as she steps in. If this were any other time I’d have her pinned against the wall, but right now she doesn’t want me to touch her. I let her look around, hoping she remembers the first time we were here, in a room similar to this one, while I put her suitcase in my room. I glance at the bed, imagining her spread out on the white comforter while I ravish her. It would mean no more lonely hand jobs. If only I could be so lucky.
Josie is looking out the window when I come back into the room. I click the stereo on and open the playlist of songs I wrote about her. I did this the last time she was here, too. Using this moment to my advantage, I step up behind her, my lips ghosting along the exposed skin on her back.
“For years I stood there and looked out the window wondering if you were down there, looking for me.” I move her hair aside and kiss her neck. “I wrote song after song about you, hoping you’d show up at a concert, praying I’d see you in the front row. I knew if I did, I’d never let you go again.”
My fingers slide under her shirt and dance along her waistband. I know she’s pissed at me, but I also know she loves me.
“I’m not perfect. I never claim to be. I’ve made so many mistakes, but the last few years have been the best of my life. You and Noah, you’re my world. I would never to anything to ruin that.”
Josie turns in my hands and meets my eyes. Hers are glassy with unshed tears. “How long after you left me did you sleep with Layla?”
I step back and drop my hands. “How do you even know about that?”
“Why would you keep it from me?”
I rub my hands over my face and groan. “Because it’s my past, Josie. We both have one. In fact, yours doesn’t go the fuck away and is still helping to raise our son. Speaking of Noah, where is he?”
“With Nick,” she mutters.
“That’s what I’m fucking talking about!”
“That’s not fair.”
“Yeah, well, neither is this,” I say, throwing my hands out. “You want to kn
ow about my life when we weren’t together, ask away, but don’t get pissed at me when you don’t like the answers.”