Before You

by Lisa Cardiff

  But the moment she saw him on stage and he started to sing, she was in awe. He was undeniably a rock star in the making. She nearly gasped when she heard his sultry voice, and if the actions of the women crowding the stage were any indication, his voice undeniably affected them, too. They reached for his legs, pawing at him like they couldn’t get enough. She couldn’t stop staring at him in complete fascination. No wonder women sold their souls worshipping at the altar of rock stars, she thought. Jax was made for the role of rock pagan god.

  Then, when he asked her to dance, she could almost hear her self-preservation telling her no, but in the end, her fascination with him won out and she agreed. At first, she trained her eyes on his shirt, hoping to avoid looking into his compelling, silvery eyes, but that was definitely a miscalculation on her part. Pressed against him with her nose nearly brushing his chest, she could see hints of every sculpted muscle of his chest rubbing against and stretching his shirt, and she swore she could smell the scent of his skin. When he pulled her closer, her rational mind told her to object, but her devious self begged her to ignore the transgression for a few harmless minutes. By the time the song ended, she couldn’t do anything but alternately stare at the ground or the people dancing, all to avoid making eye contact with him.

  The way she reacted to him was unexpected and unwelcome. She came to LA to spend quality time with Cam, not to drool over the lead singer of his band like some sort of hussy. She was selfishly grateful that Cam hadn’t noticed them on the dance floor or asked her about it on the way home. He accepted her silence, and that was fine with her. She didn’t want to talk right now.

  As they pulled into a parking lot, Bre looked up and realized that they hadn’t exchanged a single word on the whole drive to Cam’s apartment. She turned her head and saw Cam looking at her expectantly.

  “You’re pretty quiet. Is something wrong?”

  Bre watched Cam’s nervous face, and she forced a smile on her face. She needed to bury all thoughts of Jax. She didn’t want to think of him, or his devastating smile, or the impropriety of their dance ever again. Today meant the beginning of a month spent with Cam, and her moment with Jax was just that—a fleeting moment that meant absolutely nothing. Sadly, the thought made her strangely desolate. “No. I’m exhausted. I’ve been driving for two days, and I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

  “I wish I could have made the drive with you, but I couldn’t cancel the show tonight. You’re not mad, are you?”

  “Of course not.” She grabbed Cam’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m excited to spend an entire month with you. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other for more than a couple days at a time. What are we going to do with each other?” she teased, slanting Cam a challenging, laughing look.

  “I don’t know. I have this theory that you’ll toss me to the curb after a few days, so I didn’t plan much of anything.” He looked at her, his face completely earnest, but she could see a little smile dancing at the corner of his lips.

  Bre shook her head in mock sincerity, her eyes shining with laughter. “That’s an interesting theory. You touched on something that worried me, too. Should I turn around and drive home before it’s too late?”

  “Huh… let me think about it.” He turned away from her, looked out the window, and then quickly spun back toward her. “Nope, definitely not. Now that I have you in my grasp, I’m unwilling to let you leave. You’ll just have to suffer through a month of me, faults and all.” He chuckled. “Let’s go inside.”

  Cam jumped out of the car and waved to her from his position near the front bumper. “Come on. What are you waiting for?”

  “I need to grab a couple things out of the trunk.”

  Cam darted up the first few steps to the second level of apartments. “Hurry up! I want to show you my place.”

  “Wait, isn’t the guy supposed to carry my bags?”

  “Just get what you need and I’ll go back down later to get the rest. Besides, I don’t want to offend your feminist sensibilities by doing it for you.”

  “What feminist sensibilities? Camden Donovan, get down here and carry my bags before I call your mother and tell her what an ass you’re being!”

  “Fine, Bre,” he moped as he walked back to the truck. “You really know how to kill the moment. I can’t believe you just threatened to call my mom.”

  Shoving him lightly in the shoulder, Bre shot him an amused sideways look. “I have to keep you on your toes somehow. Nothing puts the fear of God into you like threatening to tell your mother. You’re such a mama’s boy.”

  “No. I’m doing it because she likes you better than me. She didn’t even care when I moved to LA because she still had you.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is. You’re my better half, so I don’t blame her for it. I totally understand.”

  “Oh, please. Now you’re being cheesy.”

  Walking into the apartment, Bre surveyed the small one bedroom residence. In typical Cam style, the place was a total mess. Plates were stacked haphazardly in the sink. An open pizza box was on the coffee table along with a couple empty beer bottles.

  “Wow, Cam! I really do think I should call your mom now. I would say I’m shocked you didn’t bother to straighten your place before I came, but I’m not.” Bre plopped down on the sofa and sniffed. “What the heck is that smell?” Finding some discarded socks, she flung them at Cam, hitting him in the chest. “You do realize this place is gross, don’t you? I can’t believe you didn’t bother to clean for me. You’re supposed to be trying to impress me, not make me run away.”

  “What?” Cam shrugged. “You should have seen it yesterday. This is clean in comparison.”

  “If you think this is clean, you need to hire someone to come in and do it for you. Your definition of clean is seriously twisted.”

  “Fine. I’ll ask Jax who cleans his place tomorrow. Just pretend like it’s not there.” Cam sat down on the sofa next to Bre, stretching his arm out behind her along the back of the sofa.

  “Thanks.” Bre leaned in and kissed Cam on the cheek.

  “So what did you think about the band? We’re good, right?”

  “Goodness. Where did you lose your modesty?” Bre started looking around, moving pillows on the sofa. “It has to be here somewhere, maybe next to your dirty socks or under the pizza box.”

  Cam chuckled, shaking his head. “I get it. You think my place is disgusting, but tell me what you thought about the band.”

  “Cam, you guys were awesome, beyond awesome. I’m impressed.”

  “Really? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” Cam’s face beamed, and she returned his enthusiastic smile.

  “Since when am I one to parse words? I told you your high school band was frighteningly bad.”

  Cam pushed Bre’s hair from her face. “We were, weren’t we? I didn’t have much to work with growing up in a small mountain town.”

  “No, you didn’t. Brian’s drum playing skills were atrocious. Lacking rhythm is a fatal flaw in a drum player.”

  Cam burst out laughing. “I can’t say much for Sam’s singing, either. He sounded like a mix between opera and heavy metal, if that’s even possible.”

  “He needed to stick to the church choir, where his voice was drowned out by others,” Bre said, holding her hands over her ears and shivering at the memory of Cam’s performance at his high school graduation party.

  “God, I missed you, Bre,” Cam said, pulling her into an embrace. “So what did you think about the guys?”

  “I only met Jax, but he seemed nice?” Bre framed her answer as a question, not entirely certain how she wanted to describe Jax. Nice didn’t seem accurate, but explaining her impression of Jax wasn’t at the top of her list of things she wanted share with Cam.

  “Nice, huh, I don’t think he’s ever been called nice. I’ll have to share that with him. He’ll think it’s funny.”

  Bre got up and grabbed the empty pizza box to dump it
in the trash. Looking at day-old congealed cheese made her nauseous. “How did you meet Jax?”

  “Through some mutual friends. Jax, Alec and Marc were already playing together, and their guitarist quit to join some other band. The guys said they had a falling out, or a mortal personality conflict as they refer to it. We met for a trial run at Jax’s place and we clicked. It doesn’t hurt that Jax knows all these people in the industry, and even though he refuses to use his connections, I’m not too proud to drop his family connections in the right circumstance.”

  “What connections?” Bre asked as she opened the dishwasher.

  “His dad is some bigwig in the movie industry.” Cam followed her into the kitchen, watching her load the dishwasher. “I think he and his dad had a major blowout, but he got a sweet trust fund and loft in West Hollywood out of the whole thing, so I don’t think it bothers him too much.”

  “Money isn’t a replacement for a parent.”

  “Sure, Bre, if you say so.”

  Bre tossed a dishtowel at him. “You can be so shallow sometimes.”

  Cam wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her onto the kitchen counter. “I know, but you love me anyway.” He leaned in to kiss her, and she curled her arms around his neck. “Mmm… I can’t believe you’re finally here.”

  His hands drifted under the hem of her shirt while he nuzzled her neck, making her shiver with anticipation. With his hands brushing her skin, she melted into him, completely absorbed by the moment. He shifted away from her momentarily to pull her shirt over her head and unzip her skinny jeans. Pulling them down her legs, he slowly trailed kisses in their wake.

  “As cute as you look in your shirt and those jeans, I definitely prefer you like this.”

  “I need to take a shower. I look awful. I can’t believe I met your friends looking like that,” Bre said, shaking her head.

  “After…” he whispered as he wrapped her legs around his waist and carried her to the bed.

  Satisfied and utterly contented, Bre stepped out the steamy shower, smiling at the prospect of spending an entire month with Cam. She threw on a nightshirt, brushed her hair, and climbed into bed with Cam, who was already asleep. She curled into his body, wrapping her arms around him like when they were kids and she used to sneak into his room when her mother didn’t bother to come home. And just like when they were kids, Cam rolled over, pulling her close to him and tangling his fingers in her hair. Smiling at the familiarity of it all, she loved how even in his sleep he always managed to make her feel safe and wanted—both of the things she had too little of when she was growing up.

  He was the one constant in her life. Everyone else came and went, but not Cam, and not his family. He shielded her from her mother’s whims and gave her an escape from her grandmother’s guilt-laden lectures. The thought of not having him or his family in her life scared her more than she wanted to admit. He knew all her quirks and she didn’t have to make any excuses for them or her family’s eccentricities or her insecurities.

  Chapter Four

  Bre pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head so she could read the chalkboard menu behind the cash register. Unconsciously, she rubbed her temples and inhaled the smell of coffee beans in a pointless attempt to lessen the tension that had been silently building between her and Cam during the last seven days. A fourth of her trip to LA had elapsed, and she and Cam had hardly spent any time together. Their usual carefree relationship had degenerated into something she didn’t recognize, and every time they were on the verge of normalcy again, Cam would disappear for hours on a simple errand or come home late from work without bothering to call.

  Last night she couldn’t bite her tongue any longer. Sure, she had questioned his whereabouts before last night, but last night her simmering discontent exploded into something uglier than she thought was possible.

  The night started well intentioned enough. When he left for work, she made him promise to be home no later than seven o’clock, hinting that she had planned a surprise. He had kissed her and swung her around in a circle, promising over and over that he wouldn’t disappoint.

  Then, like a doting girlfriend, she spent four hours preparing a five-course meal, complete with a coordinating wine for every dish. At 6:55, she sent Cam at quick reminder text and plated the grilled pork belly lettuce wrap and poured the Prosecco. At 7:20, she sent Cam other text that went unanswered. At 7:45, she called him four times and all four calls went directly to voicemail. At 8:30, she had finished the entire bottle of Prosecco and moved on to the French Chablis that was supposed to accompany her lobster bisque.

  When Cam finally walked into the house at ten o’clock, she had finished the French Chablis, and she was drunker and angrier than she remembered being in recent history. It didn’t help that she had skipped lunch because she was too busy preparing the meal for Cam.

  When he asked her why she was sitting in the dark, it took every ounce of control not to throw the cold pork belly in his face. She couldn’t remember every word that passed through her mouth, but she distinctly remembered asking him if he was too dumb to use his phone or if he was naturally an inconsiderate bastard.

  Of course, Cam tried to lay the blame at her feet, saying if she had told him her plans, he wouldn’t have been late. From there, the fight morphed into something she wanted to forget. Finally, when she threatened to leave, he told her to get out and pack her shit. She stormed into his bedroom with a bottle of Bordeaux and frantically tossed her things in her suitcase. She must have passed out halfway through because she woke up around ten this morning, dressed in the same clothes from last night, with an insane headache and a thick cottonmouth.

  Taped to the bathroom door was a note from Cam.

  B.

  Sorry for everything. Don’t leave. I love you!

  C.

  P.S. I’ll be home early tonight.

  “Excuse me, do you know what you want to order?”

  Snapped out of her private thoughts, Bre realized she was now at the front of the line, with a barista staring at her as if she were a crazy mute. “Double cappuccino and a lemon poppy seed muffin, please.”

  Grabbing her drink from the counter, she walked toward a lounge area with a sleek yellow sofa and several round metal tables with white chairs. Taking a seat in the corner of the room, she opened her notepad to sketch. Drawing always worked to divert her thoughts, and right now she really didn’t want to think about last night. So she sketched people absorbed in their day.

  Her hand froze when she noticed a couple leaning against a silver car right outside the coffee shop. The man’s back faced Bre, but she could see the woman clearly, and she looked vaguely familiar. The man shook his head and then he turned to the side and Bre nearly gasped, leaning forward for a better look. It was Jax, and now she understood why the woman looked familiar, too. It was Katie, or closet girl, as Bre had nicknamed her. From Katie’s body language, she could tell they were fighting about something. After waving her hands in front of her for a couple minutes, Katie walked away, and Jax turned toward the coffee shop window with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

  When he looked up, he caught Bre staring at him for the second time in their short acquaintance. He waved and then walked into the coffee shop, right to Bre’s table.

  “What are you doing here?” Bre asked, sharper than she intended.

  “I live around the corner. What are you doing here?” Jax said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  “Oh. Cam recommended it,” she responded, blowing on her cappuccino.

  “Mind if I join you?” he asked as he held onto the back of the white metal chair across from her.

  Bre looked at his disheveled dark hair and the strikingly chiseled angles of his face and was struck again with how compellingly attractive he was. Her eyes drifted to the sun kissed column of his throat and then down his toned shoulders to his forearms, remembering how it felt to be held in those arms when they danced last week. With Cam, she felt prote
cted, but with Jax she felt anxious and excited. Not in the mood to explore any of those confusing emotions, she slammed her sketchbook closed and pushed her chair back to stand. “Are you sure closet girl won’t mind?”

  He put a hand on her shoulder, lightly pressing her back into the chair. “Huh?” he questioned, his eyebrows raised. “Who are you talking about?”

  “Katie, the girl you were talking to outside.”

  “Right.” Jax’s lips twitched. “I forgot you heard her say that. She probably wouldn’t be too fond of that description.”

  “Well, then she shouldn’t announce her partiality for closets in a crowded bar.”

  “Too true.” He burst out laughing. “She should be more discreet, but I don’t think that thought was high on her list that night.”

  “No, probably not. I think she was too busy trying to stake her claim just in case I decided to sink my teeth into you.”

  “Now there’s a compelling idea,” Jax teased, a smile sweeping across his face.

  “You would think so.”

  “So where’s Cam?” Jax questioned, changing the subject as he sat in the chair across from her.

  “I don’t know—work or something. I haven’t seen much of him lately.” Bre sighed and looked away.

  “I take it things aren’t going well,” Jax replied, his face softening noticeably.

  Her initial inclination was to deny the truth, but for some reason when she opened her mouth, she changed her mind. “Truthfully, when I envisioned this trip, I was worried Cam and I would be sick of each other by the end of the month. Now I know my concern was unwarranted.”