Believe Me, It's You

by S. A. Cook

  “I'm fine. We...it's a long story, Eva. I don't want to talk about it over the phone. I want to come to Chicago,” he said.

  “When?” she asked.

  “This weekend. I have a deposition on Friday morning and I can leave L.A. at 1pm our time Saturday. I can be at your place by 6.”

  “Really? I..I'm in shock. I've just been waiting and waiting,” she was trying not to cry. “Not knowing anything.”

  “I'm sorry, Eva. I would have called you if I could,” he said. “They decided to be real...whatever. I'll tell you when I see you. Just know how sorry I am. That it all turned out this way.”

  “It's okay. I was so worried,” she said.

  “I'm fine,” he said. “and thank you. For worrying about me. I love you, Eva.”

  “I'm so glad you're okay,” she said.

  “I better go. I'm going to try to squeeze in studio time when I can, before the deposition. I'm eight days behind now. I think I can catch up if I stay focused. The book...maybe we can catch up when I'm there.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “I just want to spend time alone with you, Eva. I don't care what we do,” he said.

  “Me too,” she said. She wanted nothing more than to see him again, to know that he was okay.

  “I'll see you Saturday, okay?” he said.

  “Alright,” she said. After they hung up, she cried tears of relief and happiness.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Eva spent a long few days waiting for Dylan to come. She met Marta for lunch on Thursday and they caught up on all the happenings with Dylan. She kept it as brief as she could. She trusted Marta, but she felt a loyalty to Dylan, too. She tiptoed around any question she didn't feel she should answer, and Marta didn't push. They chatted about the latest Survivor episode, and eventually the topic turned to Paul.

  “I saw them outside the building with their little girl,” Marta said.

  “A little girl? Well, I guess it's good they're still together,” Eva said. She meant it, too.

  “Yeah, the baby's cute. I wouldn't have brought it up, but I figured you'd be okay, you know, since you have someone you care about now,” Marta said.

  “Yeah. It's okay. I hope he treats them better than he treated me,” she said.

  “I know, right?” Marta said. “You've got a court date in a little less than a month, right?”

  “Yep. Wish me luck. I'll keep you updated,” she said.

  “You better,” she stood up and gave Eva a hug. “Good luck with everything, girl. Don't go running off to L.A. and getting married, or anything.”

  “I have to get divorced, first,” she laughed.

  “Yeah, I meant after,” Marta waved goodbye as she walked back toward the office.

  On Friday, she got her hair trimmed and got a pedicure, picked up a few new bras and some new underwear. Lots of pink lace. She was grateful her period was out of the way, and she was planning on, no, counting on making love to Dylan. She was a little nervous. She hadn't been with anyone for two years. Paul stopped making love to her after he met the woman. She spent almost a year in a sexless marriage, wondering what was wrong with her. And then another year after Paul moved out, wondering how she could ever trust anyone again. She had no doubts about Dylan. Even if the whole relationship went up in flames one day, she was going to be with him. She was going to enjoy every moment she had with him.

  On Saturday, she spent the whole morning cleaning the apartment and washing all the bedsheets and towels. Dylan hadn't mentioned anything about staying at a hotel, so she assumed he was staying with her. She didn't even know how long he was staying.

  After she had finished doing all the housecleaning, she tried to relax by watching television. She then tried reading, but she was too keyed up to think about anything but Dylan.

  She decided at 4 o'clock to get her shower and put on some nicer clothes. She dried her hair and curled it in loose curls. She tried to imitate what Carol had done the night of the sponsors' party. She put on her new pink bra and underwear and pulled on a pair of black cords and a pretty blouse with a lowish neckline. She put on a bit of perfume. She wanted him desperately, but she was trying her best not to look too desperate. Maybe he would want to talk about jail and his case. Maybe after that, he wouldn't even be in the mood.

  She tried to sit still for a while in the living room, but spent from 5 to 6 alternately pacing, checking her phone and looking out the window. At 6:20, she was beginning to worry maybe he'd changed his plans, or worse, something bad had happened. Then the buzzer rang and she jumped.

  “Yes?” she said.

  “Hey, it's me,” Dylan said. She buzzed him in and waited by the door.

  He looked so good when she opened the door. He was wearing a black jacket and jeans, a nice white shirt and a big, beautiful, happy smile. She grabbed his bag from him, sat it on the floor and closed the door. Then she put her arms around him and squeezed him hard. He did the same and they stayed that way for a long time. When she let go, he took off his jacket and she noticed he looked thinner and a little paler.

  “You lost weight,” she said, feeling sad for him.

  “Yeah, the food was awful,” he looked at her face, her eyes. “You look so pretty.” He smiled.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked. “I mean, if you feel like it.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to tell you before. I wanted to talk to you, but the lawyers..they kept telling me not to talk to anyone, they were working things out. Can I have something to drink?” he asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Sit down and I'll bring you something. What would you like? Didn't Teddy come with you?”

  “He did. He's staying in Evanston with his nephew. He's transferring to Northwestern in the spring, so they're getting him settled in. They dropped me off. Water's good,” he hung his jacket up and sat down on the sofa. She gave him his glass and sat down next to him.

  “The judge and the lawyers couldn't see eye to eye on my bail. I guess the guy was trying to make an example out of me or something.”

  “Why? I thought the courts were beginning to side against the paparazzi when it came to the rights of celebrities,” she said.

  “I don't know,” he shook his head. “I guess the guy just didn't like me. So the lawyers started talking to the pap's lawyers, and tried to work it that way.”

  “What way?” she was confused.

  “Eva, I had to pay the photographer half a million dollars to drop the charges,” he looked at her.

  “You're kidding,” she said.

  “No. The lawyers made the offer without my consent. Calvin and my label thought they'd just take care of it for me, without discussing all the ins and outs. So once the offer was made, of course the pap's not going to drop the charges unless I pay. So we did.”

  “So that's it?” she asked. “You don't have to go back to court?”

  “No. We made up a lawsuit and settled out of court with the $500,000, in exchange for him dropping the criminal charges. That way, he can never come back and say we bribed him because we gave sworn depositions. And my side of the story is on record,” he said. “Eva, I'm sorry I had to put you through this. I made a mistake. I should have just waited there. Everything would have been different.”

  “No, don't feel that way,” she said. “It was a mistake, but I don't blame you.”

  “I said I wouldn't hurt you and I did already,” he said. “I want you to feel like you can trust me.”

  “I do,” she looked at him and nodded. “Really. It's okay.”

  “Everything should have been different,” he said, looking into her eyes.

  He put his hands on her face and moved toward her, his lips meeting hers. His kiss was soft and his lips were cool from the water. He tasted so good. Her lips responded and sought out his again, this time his kiss was more insistent. His hand moved down her neck and rested against the soft place where her shoulder began. His other hand moved through her hair and held the back of her head softly, n
ot allowing her to pull her mouth away from his, even if she'd tried, which she didn't.

  She put her arms around his neck and he gently pushed her back onto the sofa. His lips moved against her mouth, hungry. His tongue found its way inside and sought out hers. She could feel him breathing hard, his chest moving against hers. His hand traveled down her body, finding the opening of her blouse and moving across her waist, up to her breast, around her back. She felt him growing hard against her leg. She put her head back and let his mouth travel down her neck, his kisses burning now. He was moving against her, and she wanted him to stop so she could take off her clothes. She wanted her skin to be against his.

  “Where's your bedroom?” he asked, pulling his mouth away, breathing hard.

  “I'll show you,” she said. He sat up and let her take him by the hand. He followed her down the hall and to her room. He turned on the little light next to her bed.

  “I want to see you,” he said. He pulled off her blouse and looked at her. His mouth touched her neck and kissed her softly down to the tops of her breasts. She sighed and let her hand move through his hair. He kissed his way back up to her collarbone and found her neck again. He unfastened her bra and touched her breasts softly. She began unbuttoning his shirt. When she'd unbuttoned enough buttons, he pulled it over his head and dropped it on the floor. The muscles of his smooth chest twitched under her touch. She looked up into his eyes as she unbuttoned his pants. He pulled them off and unbuttoned hers. He gently pushed her back on the bed and pulled her jeans off. He bent over her, kissing her stomach, down to the lace of her panties.

  “You're so beautiful,” he said. “I knew you would be.”

  “Come here,” she held her arms out and he moved over her, kissing her mouth. His knee moved up and separated her legs. She could feel the heat between her legs and felt him moving, slowly, creating a rhythm with her. He pulled her panties down with one hand, while kissing her harder, taking a moment to catch his breath.

  “Do you have a condom?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he moved to get his wallet from his jeans and pulled out a condom. He ripped open the wrapper and she watched him as he unrolled it and moved to put it on. She grabbed his hand and took it from him. She held his gaze when he looked at her, and moved her hand down, finding him hard. She rolled the condom onto him and he moaned at the touch of her hand, burying his head against her neck. She moved her hands up his smooth back and felt goosebumps form. He raised his head and looked into her eyes. He took her leg and ran his hand up the back of her thigh and placed her leg around his waist. He moved his hips until he was inside her. She closed her eyes and put her head back.

  “Look at me, Eva,” he said. She opened her eyes and met his. He held her gaze, moving slowly inside her. She could feel herself moving with him, lifting her hips to pull him deeper inside. She was ready to fall, ready to come. He hastened his movements to keep up with hers and she tightened her legs around him. He pushed deeper into her, and she was losing herself, floating away, grabbing him around his strong back to keep from falling. He was coming, too. His hips moved faster, until he groaned and found her mouth, kissing her hard as he came.

  “I love you, Dylan,” she said.

  “I love you, too, Eva,” he said against her neck.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  They both lay still for the longest time, neither one knowing the other was wishing time could stand still. Dylan moved first, raising his head from the crook of her neck to look at her face. He slowly separated from her, reaching down to remove the condom. He got up and went to the bathroom. She watched him as he walked back to her. He lay down next to her on his side, facing her. He moved his hand across her chest, down her stomach and back up to her lips.

  “Did you mean it?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “I've loved you since the moment you took that drink from my hand,” he said. She smiled at him.

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “I dreamed about you. I told you, remember?” he asked.

  “You never told me what the dream was about, though. It must have been some dream,” she moved the hair off his forehead.

  “It was,” he said. “I'll tell you about it someday.”

  “You keep promising,” she said. He smiled at her.

  “I don't really want to move, but I'm hungry,” he said.

  “I planned on cooking for you,” she said.

  “Yeah? I like it when you cook for me,” he smiled at her.

  “I like it too,” she said. She got up and went to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror, trying to see the difference in her face. Surely she had changed in some significant way. She sure felt different. She went back to the bed and searched for her clothes, putting everything back on, piece by piece. He sat up and leaned against the headboard, his hands behind his head. He watched her dress.

  “It looks almost as nice going on as it does coming off,” he said.

  “That sounds like a song,” she laughed.

  “It might be someday,” he said. “You'll be in it, that's for sure.”

  She went into the kitchen and looked for the ingredients to make fettucine Alfredo. She put a pot of water on to boil and started making the sauce.

  She had everything going and was stirring the sauce when she felt Dylan's hands move around her waist. She could feel his bare chest against her back. She smiled.

  “You're gonna make me burn myself,” she said.

  “Nah, you're doing great,” he said. “It looks like fettucine.”

  “It is,” she said.

  “My trainer's going to love you. He wants me to put on fifteen pounds before the tour starts,” he said, taking some plates down from the cabinet.

  “When's your tour start?” She was hoping not soon.

  “March. In Asia. Then May for the U.S. It won't be over until November of next year, but I'll have lots of time off in between the different legs of the tour.”

  “Wow,” she said. “I don't know how you do it.” She didn't want to think about any long absences right now.

  “I'll just be exhausted for a few months at a time and I'll rest in between. It's always the same. Do you have any wine?”

  “Yes,” she said, pointing to a bottle of red wine in the corner of the counter. “The glasses are up above it and there's a corkscrew in that drawer.”

  “You want some, right?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “The last time you had wine with me was disastrous,” he smiled.

  “I know. I'm sorry,” she said, feeling stupid. “This time I'll be better.”

  “I know,” he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  They sat at the kitchen table and ate. She had a full glass of wine and he poured her another.

  “Don't get me drunk,” she said.

  “Why not?” he said. “Don't you trust me?” She smiled.

  “I trust you,” she said. “I just don't want to feel awful later.”

  “You'll feel fine later. I promise,” he said. She made herself ask the question she'd been avoiding.

  “When do you have to go back?” she asked.

  “Not until after Thanksgiving weekend,” he said.

  “Really?” she felt like it was too good to be true.

  “No one's at the studio until after Thanksgiving and...well, I figured we could spend the week working on the book, and then I was hoping you could go to Indianapolis with me on Thursday. To meet my grandparents. I told them I'd try to get in for Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Yes, I'd like to meet them. It'd be good for the book. Is that what you'll tell them? I'm there to write the book?”

  “No. Why would I tell them that? I'm gonna tell them you're Eva, my girlfriend,” he said, eating the last of his fettucine.

  “Do you think they'll be upset? I mean, I'm older and..,” she said.

  “They don't care. They'll see how happy I am and be happy for me,” he said. “Besides,
I make my own decisions. If your parents were alive, what would they say about me being younger?”

  “Well, they'd say something like, 'He's a nice young man, but can he support you, Eva?' And I would say something like, 'He's a multimillionaire pop star, Dad. Yeah, I think he could take care of me, but I have a career and I can take care of myself.' I think that's what they'd say. And then, they'd end up being as charmed by you as everyone else.” She drank the rest of her wine and decided she'd had enough.

  “I can take care of you,” he said. “If you need me to. If you want me to.”

  “I think we're getting ahead of ourselves,”she said. The wine was making her feel like things were moving too fast.

  “Okay,” he said. “I'll slow down. But will you come?”

  “Sure,” she said. “Of course I'll come. I want to meet them.”

  “Okay, good. I'll tell them we're coming. We can rent a car and drive down,” he said. “Oh, you don't have a car, do you? God, I never even asked.”

  “No. I had a car I shared with Paul, but he took it when he left,” she said.

  “What an asshole,” he said.

  “Yeah, I know. Well, it was in his name, not both our names,” she said. “I was stupid.”

  “No, he was stupid and he still is,” Dylan said. “Please don't blame yourself for the shit he did to you. When you love someone, you should be able to trust each other. Especially if you're sleeping in the same bed.”

  “I know,” she said. He got up and put the dishes in the dishwasher. She wiped up the counter and stove, put the wine bottle in recycling.

  “Want to work on the book now,” he asked. “Before I pass out from all this food and wine?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  She sat down on the sofa and Dylan stretched out and put his head in her lap. She stroked his soft hair.

  “Okay, you get the exclusive interview,” he smiled up at her.

  “Thanks!” she said.

  “You earned it,” he said.

  “Okay...let's see. I think we got up to you moving to L.A. to work with Calvin,” she said. “Why don't you tell me what that was like?”