Love Exactly

by Cassandra Giovanni

“I guess it’s a good thing we were both busy.”

  “What’s it about?” he pushed, and I felt my chest tighten at the thought of trying to explain it.

  “I don’t really know how to describe it.”

  He looked over, his forehead wrinkling as his brows darkened his eyes. “Isn’t that what the back of the book does?”

  “It’s a young adult romance…it takes place after the fall of the government. I guess it’s kind of like a futuristic Romeo and Juliet,” I explained, my knuckles white at being forced to answer.

  Evan sighed. “Why don’t you want me to know about it?”

  “It’s not that—”

  “Really? Because it sure as hell feels like it.”

  “Evan, come on…I just started writing again. It’s like learning to walk—”

  “No, it’s like riding a bike. You don’t forget. You stop for a while and then the next time you get back on it’s the same,” he accused as he cut me off.

  “Seriously?” I hissed at him, crossing my arms.

  “Oh, there you go with that angry chin of yours,” he teased, jutting his chin out in imitation.

  I turned my back to him and looked out the window.

  “You’re an ass,” I muttered under my breath.

  “No. I’m not letting you make excuses anymore,” he retorted, and I felt his free hand rub my back. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I just want you to be confident in what you do—you’re a great writer.”

  “How do you know?” I snapped back. “You haven’t read anything I’ve written.”

  “I’ve read your newspaper articles.”

  “It’s not the same, and you know it.”

  “Come on, Em…I know you are. I don’t need to read it to know it.”

  I closed my eyes before replying, “Just don’t push me so much.”

  “Who else is going to?”

  Silence filled the car as I listened to its engine drone at the steady speed of the highway.

  “I’m sorry that I’m so uncomfortable sharing it with you,” I explained, back still turned.

  “How will you publish it then?”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  “What?” Evan’s voice pitched as he responded, and it was obvious he was upset as his hand moved from my back.

  “What are you so scared of? And…” Evan’s words drifted off as it cracked. “Why can’t I fix it?”

  “You can’t fix everything that’s broken about me,” I replied without thinking. The words sounded too harsh, and when I turned to look at him his eyes were staring at the road blank—void but hurt. “Evan—”

  He shook his head. “I’m not trying to fix you. I don’t think you’re broken. That’s all on you. I’m just trying to show you the only one standing in your way is you.”

  His words were said in softness, but the harshness of their truth sank in.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Evan didn’t reply as he drove into the recording studio parking lot and shut the car off.

  “I don’t want to fight. That wasn’t the point…I’ve just seen a lot of people that have talent they waste, and I don’t want that to be you. I know you’ll regret it,” Evan explained as he reached for my hands.

  “Okay,” was my reply.

  “Come on…I want you to hear this song I wrote.” Evan nodded towards the building before getting out of the car. He slid his hand into mine as we walked toward the dimly lit studio.

  “Should we be here this late?” I asked as I watched him dig in his pocket for a key.

  “I can come any time I like,” he explained, smirking.

  I rolled my eyes. “What are you famous or something?”

  He chuckled to himself as he opened the door and entered a code into the alarm panel. He didn’t bother to turn on any of the lights as we navigated our way through the studio. He opened a door at the end of the hall, and I was greeted by an array of panels and buttons that I had no idea how anyone could ever memorize.

  “Holy crap,” I commented.

  Evan pointed to one button. “All you need to do is press that button when I nod my head.”

  “I’ll break it!” I responded as he patted the chair for me to sit.

  “I doubt it.” He winked at me and slipped out the door on the other side of the room, flicking on a light switch as he went.

  I turned to the area in front of me, which was now a lit room, visible to me by the Plexiglas that separated us. Evan slipped a set of headphones on and stood in front of the microphone before nodding at me. I shook my head at him and he pointed down at the button someone had stuck a sticker on that said Press Me. He had obviously planned this well. I stuck my tongue out at him before I plopped in the chair and pressed the button.

  Evan tapped his hand against his thigh and moved his head with the beat as the music began to play. When he started to sing he closed his eyes, his emotions flowing with the clarity of his voice, and I was in a trance as I listened to the words he sang.

  When the song ended I was sitting on the edge of the seat with my head in my hands as I stared at him in wonder. The words were still sinking in, and I knew they were about me. He looked up at me; his lips in a frown before he hung the headphones back up and came back into the room.

  I turned my chair to face him as he sat down in one across from me. He looked at me through his eyebrows.

  “The producer thinks it will win us a Grammy,” he said and his voice was strained as he studied my face.

  “I’m sure it will…but why would you write something about me?” I shook my head at him.

  “I think you would know by now,” he answered, and the frown was still there.

  I reached out and ran my finger over the stars on his hand. “It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.”

  He looked down at his hands as the tension was released with a laugh and he shook his head, a soft smile coming to his lips, highlighting his dimples.

  “Hearing that from you makes all the difference,” he shrugged, the easy smile still on his face. “Somehow now that I have you nothing anyone else says matters.”

  “Why? I don’t know anything about music.”

  He took my hands in his and kissed them, looking up at me through his eyebrows as he said, “Even if that were true—you know everything about me.”

  “I doubt I know everything,” I answered, my voice caught in my throat as he held my face and ran his thumb across my lips.

  “You know everything that matters,” he whispered as he leaned forward to place his lips on mine.

  I let his lips flow over mine and down my neck as he pulled me into his lap.

  “Aren’t there cameras in here?” I just managed to say.

  I could feel his smile against my lips as he used his feet to roll the chair back before taking one of his hands off my face and flicking the light switch.

  “Better?” he asked as his lips left mine for a moment before finding the curve of my neck.

  “Mhmm,” I managed to gasp out as his hands ran over the skin of my arms and sent my nerves on fire before slipping under my shirt.

  ~~~

  Finding our clothes in the dark was harder than either of us thought it might be. Actually, neither of us had thought anything through.

  “I hope you don’t end up in my pants,” I giggled as I felt around on the floor.

  Evan chuckled to himself, and I knew what he was thinking.

  “I think this is yours,” he commented, handing me my bra.

  “Yeah, I don’t remember you wearing one,” I teased as I grabbed it and pulled it on.

  “We need some light,” Evan cursed as he slammed his head into the wall.

  “If we could find your pants you could use your cell phone.”

  “Ha-ha,” was Evan’s reply.

  “Found them!” I rejoiced. I pulled his cell phone out and lit the floor around me.

  “Can I have them then?” he asked, and I flashed the camera over him. “
Hey!”

  I smirked as he covered himself with his hands.

  “It was your idea,” I retorted, throwing him his pants.

  “Yeah, it was all my fault.”

  I found my jeans and pulled them on before searching for my t-shirt. When I found it I flicked on the light switch to find Evan on his hands and knees only inches from his button-up. I put my hands on my hips.

  “Takes you longer to get dressed than me,” I joked.

  He stood, shaking his head and pulled the shirt on.

  “That’s a first,” he snapped with a smile as he pushed his collar down and started buttoning the shirt. He stopped when he saw my face had gone red, “What’s wrong?”

  “Does the camera have sound?”

  Evan burst into laughter. “I have no idea—honestly, I don’t even know if there’s a camera in here.”

  “Great,” I muttered, and I could feel the heat flowing down from my cheeks to my chest.

  “I’ll check with Bruce in the morning and make sure if it is that I get the tape, okay?” He walked forward and rested his hand on my collarbones.

  “Promise?” I choked out.

  He kissed my forehead. “I promise.”

  “Was there anything else you needed to show me?” I asked as I stared up at the poster I had just noticed behind him.

  Evan turned so he was standing next to me. “What do you think?”

  I couldn’t help but shake my head in disbelief as I looked at a photograph of him sitting on a desk with the blackboard behind him, his head in one of his hands as he stared at the camera. He had the dark look he sometimes got in his eyes, and the blackboard had been photoshopped to be the one after he had written ‘What is love, exactly?’ In the corner there was a fake sticker that said ‘Featuring the hit single Love Exactly’.

  “Is that the song you just sang?” I whispered as I pointed, dumbfounded, at the poster.

  Evan wrapped his arms around me and tucked his head into my shoulder. “Yes.”

  “I get a copy of that poster, right?”

  Evan laughed. “Of course.”

  “This is crazy,” I mumbled to myself.

  “No, it’s what your photography deserves.”

  I kept shaking my head, and Evan pulled on my shoulders so I was facing him.

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  I nodded and he smiled. “Good because I’m hungry. I was thinking sushi?”

  My stomach growled in agreement. “Can I see the rest of the album leaflet?”

  “Yes, at dinner.”

  “I have to wait?” I pouted at him, but he didn’t relent. Instead he headed towards the door.

  I stood and pouted more. He shook his head. “Good things come to those that wait, mhmm?”

  I narrowed my eyes before submitting, “Fine, let’s go get some food.”

  Chapter 22

  Even after Evan’s promise he refused to show me the cover art at the restaurant and had driven all the way back to my house with a smug look on his face. He kept glancing over at me; his lips curled in just the slightest and when I would pout at him he would break into a full smile that caused the dimples to show in his cheeks. His happiness was infectious, and I found myself not really caring because for once it felt like we had forever. When we pulled into the driveway I yanked his keys from his hands and jumped out of the car.

  “Show me now!” I squealed jumping on to him as he came around the front of the car.

  “I can’t show you them if I can’t get to them,” he said through laughter as I dangled the keys above his head, just out of reach of his free hand because his other was wrapped firmly around my waist to keep me from falling to the ground.

  I stopped and looked down at him. “Where are they?”

  His eyes widened to tease me in how obvious it was. “In the trunk of the car.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him and slid off his body in a way that made the vein in his forehead pulse.

  “Fine, you can go get them,” I said as I handed him the keys.

  “Thanks, for your permission,” he teased with a roll of his eyes. He went to the trunk and pulled out a black bag, using his free hand to shoo me away. “I’m not showing you them outside.”

  “You have the keys to the door,” I answered with crossed arms.

  He smirked at me and planted his feet, dangling the keys in front of him. “Now who’s in control?”

  I ran towards him, hands reaching for the bag, but when I got to him he grabbed me by my waist and swung me around. “Oh, no you don’t.”

  He held the bag to the side, using only one arm to hold me back. I stopped struggling and he smiled at me.

  “If you were a good girl we could just go inside and look at them,” he commented as he let me go.

  I stood and leaned on my tippy toes so my lips were hovering over his, our eyes locked.

  “I thought you liked it when I’m bad,” I whispered.

  His chest rose against mine as he took a deep breath and shook his head. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman.”

  I bit his lip quickly and stole the bag out of his hand before rushing towards the door.

  “You!” he shouted as he ran after me. When he got into the house I was sitting on the coach, legs crossed, waiting patiently with the black bag in front of me on the coffee table.

  “See, I’m not that bad.”

  He shook his head and took a seat next to me before leaning forward and opening the bag. He looked over his shoulder at me. “Now you’re patient?”

  I nodded, but the truth was it unnerved me that my pictures could either help or hinder his album.

  “You look scared?” he said, turning to face me. “What’s wrong?”

  “How important is the album art?”

  I watched his face as he thought about the question, tapping one of his feet. “Pretty important…all of the advertisements are based off of it.”

  “Right, well show me then.”

  “Everyone loved your pictures…There’s even some I took in here…and of course, there’s some you didn’t take of the band,” he explained as he produced the album booklet.

  I’d seen the cover, so when he handed it to me it was a little bit less overwhelming, but at the same time it made it that much more real. Evan put his arm around me as he watched me open the booklet with shaking hands. The first few pictures were ones I hadn’t taken of the band together. Evan was standing at the front, old fashioned microphone in hand, and the guys played their instruments in the background.

  “I really like this one,” I commented.

  “Anything but the one you took, right?”

  He shook his head and flipped to the next page. It was the page giving credit for Love Exactly and it was a picture I could never have taken because it was me. I knew it was me, but most people wouldn’t because I was framed by the sun and cast in its shadow as I stood by the French doors, wrapped in a sheet, staring out across the lake.

  “I hope you aren’t mad?” he asked, studying my face as I gawked at it.

  “No,” I managed to stutter as I looked up at him. “It’s beautiful.”

  He took my face in his calloused hands so I was looking at him.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes searching mine.

  “You make me feel like it,” I replied, knowing there were tears building in the corner of my eyes. “In so many ways.”

  I let the booklet drop to the floor as he pulled me into his arms with a gentle kiss.

  “I’d do anything to make you happy, you know that, right?” he asked as his lips left mine and kissed my forehead.

  “You don’t have to do anything to make me happy except be you,” I replied, pulling his body over mine.

  I could feel the smile on his lips as they touched mine again. “That’s why I lo—”

  His words were cut off by the loud ringing of his cell phone in his back pocket.

  “What the hell?” he snapped, supporting the weight of
his body over mine with one arm and reaching back with his other. “Who’d be calling this late?”

  When his eyes saw the screen they darkened, and his smile faded into a stern line.

  “I’ve got to take this,” he said. I nodded and he headed outside.

  I waited a moment before following the sound of his agitated voice to the entryway. He had left the front door open and was pacing in the driveway. His free hand was clenched in a fist at his side and his face was red as he tried to control the tone of his voice.

  “What are you saying? That I have to come back to LA tonight for some god damned emergency meeting about the tour schedule?—That’s nice it’s not going to happen…who’s pissed about us recording in Boston?—Well, the album came out the way you wanted it just the same…no, I don’t really understand what your point is…You aren’t going to like what I think I’m hearing—What? You want to know? I think you’re saying that because I’m the front man I get screwed…What the hell else would you mean?—Bad influence? Really, buddy, you want to go there?—You can thank her for the fucking album you—You think I’m going to regret what I’m saying—what the fuck does that mean? You don’t control me…you’re right, the fucking contract does.”

  The iPhone flew out of his hands and slammed into the tree in front of him with such force that it shattered on impact. Evan’s back was turned to me as he bent his knees; his hands went into his hair and he took a fistful of it, shaking his head. His muscles tensed as he heard my feet crunching on the gravel, but he didn’t turn. Instead he stood and let me wrap my arms around his chest, my hands resting on his shoulders. His chin dropped there before he pulled me around and into his arms with his face buried in my hair. I could feel the tears hitting the waves of brown, and I knew in my heart that it was over. It didn’t matter how much we cared for one another. It didn’t matter that in his flaws I’d found perfection. The truth was nothing this perfect could last forever. In time the media would tear at it; wear it down until it was just an empty shell. We had known that, but neither of us had expected in a matter of seconds the recording label, which didn’t care about anything but the bottom line, would rip us apart with one word.

  Contract.

  They owned him, and I owned his heart.