Believe Me, It's You

by S. A. Cook

  “You just have to understand. I have to be able to trust someone in this world,” he said. “Especially someone I want to share everything with.”

  “I made a mistake,” she said. “I'm so sorry.”

  “I was scared. I didn't know who was coming in to your apartment. I just got out of jail, and I didn't want any trouble...that's why I got so pissed off.”

  “I know, Dylan. And I'm truly sorry.”

  “It's okay,” he said. He wiped the tears from her cheek. “I need to know you're serious about me. You could break my heart. I couldn't stand that. I love you.” He stood up and leaned over her. She looked up at him and he bent and kissed her lips. She let her breath out, feeling okay once again.

  “I brought you something,” she said.

  “Oh yeah?” he whispered, looking in her eyes. “What?” She picked her purse up off the floor and dug around inside. She pulled out the gold key ring and handed him the keys.

  “What's this?” he asked, looking at them.

  “They're new keys to the apartment,” she said. “I had the locks changed this morning.” Dylan looked at her and smiled. He put the keys into the front pocket of his jeans.

  “Oh, and I have our results,” she said, pulling out the two envelopes.

  “Okay,” he said, sitting down on the sofa. “Bring them over here.” Eva sat down next to him and gave him his own envelope.

  “Do you want to go first?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he said. He moved his thumb under the edge of the envelope and carefully opened it. He unfolded the letter and read to himself.

  “Negative,” he said, smiling at Eva. “Your turn.” She worked her finger under the seal and opened the envelope. She removed the letter and read it.

  “Negative,” she smiled.

  “Okay,” Dylan said, letting his breath out. “We're both good. We have a fresh start.” He leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

  “I missed you, last night,” he said.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Dylan called down to the lobby and asked not to be disturbed. Then, he called Teddy and told him to go to his nephew's and hang out for a while. He hung up his cell phone and put it on the table next to the bed.

  “Teddy has to pick me up for the airport at 2:00. I guess we've only got about three hours together,” he said.

  “I'm going to miss you,” Eva said.

  “Come to L.A. with me,” Dylan said.

  “I have to be in court a week from Tuesday,” she said. “I should probably stay here and try to get in touch with my lawyer.”

  “Next Tuesday is when my album drops digitally,” he said. “I guess it's gonna be a big day for us both. Can't you come spend the week with me, and fly back next Monday?” Eva thought about it.

  “I could, but I'd have to fly back by Sunday,” she said. “I don't want to risk missing my court date because it decides to snow in Chicago, or something.”

  “I don't want you to miss it, either. We could keep our eyes on the weather, and you could fly when it's going to be good. Even if it's Friday, we could have the week together,” Dylan said.

  “Won't you be busy?” she asked.

  “I'll be in the studio five or six hours a day,” he said. “Post-production stuff...but I'd be home the rest of the time. You could come with me, if you wanted, or relax at my house.”

  “I don't have any clothes, or anything,” she said. “I'd have to go back to the apartment.”

  “I'll buy you new clothes,” he pushed her back onto the bed and kissed her mouth. “Let me worry about the details...” he moved his lips down to her neck, kissing her softly and working his way down to her collarbone, then to her breasts. His hand worked it's way under her blouse.. Eva relaxed, putting her arms behind her head. It felt good not to be worried about anything, even if it was only temporary. She let him pull her blouse off, and felt his hands moving over her bra, traveling to her back, working the hooks loose. He took off her bra and threw it on the floor. She remained motionless, her eyes closed, concentrating only on the feel of his hands moving over her body.

  His mouth explored every inch of her bare skin. He worked his way down to the waistband of her jeans. He looked up and she saw his brown eyes, half-closed with desire. He made her heart skip a beat. He undid the snap and pulled her pants off. He slipped his fingertips under the band of her panties and ran his hand along her hips, pulling the lace down, and taking them off. He raised up and looked at her face. She put her hand around his neck and pulled him down to her.

  She raised her head up to meet his lips, tasting him, sweet and salty, his tongue playing inside her mouth, his lips tugging at hers. She could feel him, hard against her thigh. She reached for the button of his jeans, and tugged them down. He stopped kissing her long enough to kick them off. She pulled his t-shirt off, messing up his hair. She looked at him and felt nothing bad could ever happen, as long as he loved her. She smoothed his hair out of his eyes, and he looked at her.

  “I love you, Eva,” he said. He kissed her, his hips becoming more insistent against her thigh. He got up and went to the bathroom. He came back with a condom, and handed it to Eva. She tore open the packet, and took out the condom. She reached for him, taking his hardness into her hand, rolling the condom onto him. He moaned at the touch of her hands. He grabbed her leg and pulled it up. She put it around his waist and he moved inside her. She felt her world expand, with every movement of Dylan's hips, every thrust inside her. He bent over her, kissing her forehead, her ears, finally, her lips. She felt him tense and move inside her. Her own orgasm was far away, and she didn't care. She couldn't imagine a pleasure greater than watching him, loving him, and seeing him happy.

  After he came, he rolled over and caught his breath. He propped himself up on an elbow, looking at her.

  “You didn't come,” he said.

  “No, but I don't care,” she said, smoothing the hair from his eyes. “I enjoyed watching you.” He smiled.

  “I'm sorry,” he said, running his hand down her side, feeling the smoothness of her hip. “If you give me a couple minutes, I can go again.” Now Eva was the one smiling. Being with a 21 year old had its advantages.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Teddy picked them up at 2, and they headed to her apartment. She ran up and quickly put together a suitcase of necessities, and a few outfits, thinking if there was a situation that called for something she didn't pack, she'd just have to buy it. She left her mailbox key with her neighbor, who was happy to get her mail for her, and carried her bag downstairs. Teddy threw her bag in the trunk. They got to Executive Airport early. The woman at the gate ushered the three of them into a private room to wait for the chartered plane to arrive.

  “We rushed for nothing,” Dylan said. “we could have stayed in bed.” Eva shot him a look, hoping Teddy hadn't heard, but she couldn't help smiling.

  “He can't hear me,” Dylan said. “He's got his headphones on.” Ten minutes later, the woman from the front gate came in and told them their plane had arrived. The pilot had trouble getting clearance to land because it was Sunday night, and apparently the holiday was causing a lot of extra traffic, even at the small airport. The three of them climbed the stairs to the plane. Dylan took her coat and put it on a sofa. She sat down at a table with two seats.

  “This looks like the same plane I took home from L.A.,” Eva said.

  “It is,” Dylan said. “I usually use the same plane and the same pilot.”

  “The life of the rich and famous,” Eva said. “It's so weird....”

  “Wait until you have to face a screaming mob for the first time,” Dylan said. “Or when you have to sit in the car for an hour, waiting for the cops to come so you can get out. But hopefully, that won't happen for a while.”

  “Good,” Eva said, feeling terrified at the thought of it. “Why would the mob scream at me?”

  “They'll scream for you,” he said. “Just because of your association with me. That's how Vanessa beca
me so famous. I know it sounds like I'm bragging, but I don't mean to. It's just the way it is. Even Grandma got so many calls, she had to change the phone number she'd had for thirty years.”

  “You're making me nervous.”

  “I don't mean to,” he said. “But I want you to be mentally prepared. I don't want to scare you away, or anything. We can keep us a secret for as long as possible. But eventually, everyone's gonna find out I have a girlfriend.”

  Eva sat back and looked out the window of the plane, into the darkness. How was her life going to be when the world knew who she was? She had to prepare herself for what was to come, but she also wanted to postpone the inevitable.

  “Don't worry,” Dylan said. “It'll be alright. Don't give up on us because you're afraid of how other people are going to react.”

  “I won't,” she said. She knew she couldn't turn back now. She was so in love with him.

  They touched down in L.A. at 5 Pacific time and were at Dylan's house in Malibu by 6:30. She carried her bag into her old bedroom. Dylan followed her back and looked at her, smiling.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “You want your old room, still?”

  “Oh,” she said. “I don't know...where do you want me?”

  “In my bedroom, duh!” he laughed and picked up her bag, carrying it past his bedroom and putting it inside his giant closet. He looked for the least occupied part of the closet, and slid his clothes over, making room for her to hang her stuff.

  “You can hang anything here,” he said. “I'll clear out a couple drawers for you.”

  “I don't think I brought many hanging things,” she said.

  “We'll buy you some,” he said. “I can take you shopping tomorrow. We can go to the mall at Topenga, They'll let us in after they close at 10 if we call ahead.”

  Eva laughed. “I don't need anything right now, Dylan,” she said. “But thank you for offering. I've got my own money, you know.”

  “I know,” he said. “I want you to have what you need.”

  She smiled.

  “I do,” she said. “Don't worry.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Eva woke up late the next morning, the sun shining through the tall windows. Dylan had forgotten to darken them. Eva felt like cold, cloudy Chicago was a world away. Dylan lay awake, not making any moves to get up.

  “What do you want for breakfast?” she asked.

  “Are you going to cook for me?” he asked, smiling.

  “Sure,” she made no move to get up, though. Instead, she pulled the comforter up around them both, and moved her hands under the covers, and over Dylan's stomach. He smiled.

  “You don't want to cook, do you?” he laughed.

  “In a minute,” she said, smiling. He rolled over and put his arms around her. They didn't get up for another hour.

  It was almost noon when they finally got up and got dressed. Dylan went to the kitchen and made them two cups of coffee.

  “You want to just call it lunch?” he asked her, handing her the cup of coffee.

  “Yes, please,” she said. “I'm starving.”

  “You don't eat enough,” he said.

  “I think I'm getting plump,” she said.

  “You aren't getting plump.”

  “I need to call my lawyer and let Sarah know where I am,” she said, picking up her cell phone. “I don't want her to worry. I need to tell my lawyer about Paul.”

  “What about him?” Dylan asked.

  “The threat he made,” she said.

  “He was probably just blowing off steam. I hope, anyhow. If I'm named in a court case, someone will pick up on it and we'll be in the news,” he said.

  “That's what I'm afraid of,” she dialed her lawyer, but had to leave a message. She called Sarah and left a message for her, knowing she'd be at work.

  They ate lunch together, and Dylan got ready to go to the studio to work.

  Soon, Eva was alone in the house, so she got out her computer to check her email. There was an email from her lawyer, reminding her of the court date. She emailed her back, giving her the details of what happened with Paul. She answered a few other emails, paid a few bills online and waited to hear from the lawyer. She felt like writing, but didn't want to start anything new just yet. Her publisher would probably be sending her the manuscript for Dylan's book any day now with revisions, and she wanted to be prepared to finish it.

  Around 4, she finally heard from the lawyer.

  “Eva, what I want to do is call his attorney and tell him Dylan Moore is your client and you have an agreement of confidentiality with him. If he causes you to violate that agreement, we'll sue him. He's just feeling ex-husband jealousy. He'll get over it. But as far as anyone's concerned, Dylan's your client. You work for him, and that's the end of it.”

  Eva felt relieved after talking with her. She kept reminding herself, as far as the world was concerned Dylan and she had a professional relationship. Nothing more. And even that was supposed to be a secret.

  Dylan got home from the studio around 9 that evening. Eva was glad to see him. She still felt at loose ends around the house, without him. She was looking forward to starting her own book. She felt the need to work, to write.

  They spent the evening talking. Dylan was excited about the progress they'd made on the album. He was also worried about how it would be received. He had written every song, and he felt like this was the first time he was really putting himself out there.

  “I feel like this is going to be a transitional record for me,” he told Eva. He was stretched out on the sofa, his head in her lap. He looked tired.

  “You have to take a chance,” she said. “This is what you've been working up to, right? It's going to be good. I loved what I heard.”

  “I can't wait for you to hear the whole thing,” he said. “I want it to be finished. I want it to be perfect before I let you listen to it.”

  “When do you think it'll be done?” she asked.

  “It has to be done by Thursday,” he said. “I'm sure we'll be working on it up to the deadline, getting it perfect.” He took a deep breath and let it out.

  “I feel like my ass is on the line, for the first time,” he said. “Up 'til now, I could blame a bad song on someone else.”

  “It'll be good.”

  “I want to go to bed,” he said. “I feel stressed out.”

  They got in bed, and Dylan lay on his stomach, letting her smooth the stress and worry out of his back and shoulders.

  “That feels so good,” he said, eyes half shut. “Could you get me a beer?”

  “Sure,” Eva padded into the kitchen and brought him a beer from the fridge.

  “Thanks,” he said, screwing the top off. He chugged half the bottle. Eva continued rubbing his neck and shoulders, and his eyes closed.

  He drifted off to sleep.

  Eva was wide awake, still. She took the remainder of the beer from the bedside table and sipped it. She sat up in the dark, listening to Dylan's rhythmic breathing. She wanted everything to go well for him. The thought of his hard work not being appreciated made her sad. She knew how hard he worked. She saw how important his music was to him. She was starting to feel an inkling of the pressure that was his life, and she realized it was heavy. She reached out and put her arm around him. She had never felt this way about anyone before.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  On Thursday, Dylan got home from the studio by 3 in the afternoon.

  “It's done,” he said, smiling and throwing his jacket on the table. “Everything's in the hands of my label now.”

  “You seem relieved,” she said.

  “I can't worry anymore,” he said. “I did what I needed to do.”

  “What's the next step?” Eva asked.

  “The publicity machine goes into high gear,” he said. “Calvin's got a bunch of appearances lined up, starting Tuesday when it goes digital.”

  “That's my court date,” she said.

  “I know. Crazy timing, huh
?” he said. “I would have liked to come to Chicago with you. I could have seen you through this. We could have celebrated.”

  “It'll be okay,” she said. “We can celebrate later.”

  “I'll be making appearances up 'til Christmas. Then I'll come to Chicago, and we can go to my grandparents',” he said. “I'll miss you. I brought you something.”

  “What?” she said, feeling sad. He took his phone out and connected it to his stereo system. The music started.

  “It's my album,” he said. They lay on the sofa, listening all the way through. She was struck by how personal it was. Not like his other albums, which were more generic pop/love songs. The lyrics were more sophisticated and the melodies more unpredictable, with a strong R&B sensibility. Dylan's voice was rich and deeper, oozing sex appeal. It seemed he could do anything he wanted with it, effortlessly.

  “Dylan,” she said, sitting up and looking at him in amazement. She took him by the shoulders. “I'm so blown away by how talented you are. I love it. It's really good, Dylan. It's really good.”

  “Yeah?” he said. “You really like it?”

  “I swear on everything,” she smiled. “I really love it. Even if I didn't love you, I'd buy it.” He leaned forward and kissed her.

  “I'm glad,” he said. “When the CD drops, I'll sign a copy for you.”

  “Wow, thanks,” she laughed. “Seriously, Dylan. It's very good.”

  They determined Saturday would be the best day for her to fly back to Chicago, since there was a possibility of snow in Illinois on Sunday. They spent Friday together, doing very little. They watched movies in bed, ate meals in front of the fireplace, and made love whenever they felt like it, which was often. They both felt the pressure of the coming days, and did what they could to keep their minds off court dates and critics, public appearances and being apart.

  On Saturday, Dylan and Teddy took her to LAX. She wouldn't let Dylan charter a flight. It seemed wasteful and extravagant to her. At the airport, Dylan had to say goodbye from the car. They all agreed it was preferable to him going in and creating a mob scene. Teddy went to the back of the car and took out her bag. He stood outside the car, giving them some privacy.