Western Waves (Compass 3)

“Just say it, Damian. I know you’re thinking something, so go ahead and say it.”

“It bothers me,” he stated, standing tall.

“What bothers you?”

“The way he drinks, and the way he speaks to you when he drinks. The way he yells at you when he’s hungover. That bothers me.”

“I—”

“Does he hurt you?” he cut in, stepping closer to me.

“You can’t keep asking me that, Damian,” I whispered.

“I’ll stop asking when you stop lying about it, Stella.”

I swallowed hard, feeling chills race up and down my arms. “He’s never hit me,” I said sternly, certain.

Damian’s facial features shifted into the most heartbreaking expression. His ocean blue eyes looked on the verge of despair as he stared my way. His expression alone almost made me fall to my knees and cry.

“Stella,” he whispered, inching closer. So close that the space between us was mere inches. So close that the heat from his body was able to land against my skin. His mouth parted as he spoke a truth I didn’t even think of uncovering. “That isn’t the only way a man can hurt a woman.”

“I… he’s…” I felt confused. Uncertain of what it was that Damian even wanted me to say. “Jeff isn’t as bad as you think.”

“I hope you treat yourself as kindly as you do others, but judging by your choice of partnership, I doubt it.”

“That’s mean, Damian,” I softly said, feeling on the verge of tears.

“Then I apologize,” he replied. “I do not mean to offend. I simply mean to speak facts.”

“It’s not facts. It’s your opinion.”

“Trust me, Stella. It’s facts.”

“Stella! My phone’s dead. I need you to drive me back to my car,” Jeff shouted. “Hurry, will you?”

Damian stepped backward.

I stood still, shaken up by the whole situation. “Sorry, I have to go,” I muttered, walking past him to leave the room.

“Stella.”

“Yes?”

“He’s not the hero in your romantic comedy,” Damian stated. I looked over to those blue eyes of his as he continued. “He’s the dick boyfriend in the opening credits.”

After Jeff and I made it back to our place, he was still slightly hungover, so I cooked him breakfast. It took a while for his apologies to come, but he did say he was sorry for the way he treated me. Then he threw me for a loop.

“What do you mean you want to meet him?” I asked, confused by Jeff’s words. “You just met him.”

“No, I mean really meet him. A sit-down conversation.”

“Why?”

“Why not? You don’t think it’s a good idea for your boyfriend to meet your husband?” he said as he sat in the living room, flipping through his collection of vinyl records. “Unless there’s a reason you’re being weird about it.”

I felt as if he sucker-punched me with his words as I moved across the room and sat on the floor beside him and the records. “What? No. Of course there isn’t a reason. Why would you think that?”

“I wasn’t invited to the wedding,” he said.

I laughed. “You were invited. You said you didn’t want to come.”

“Of course, I didn’t want to come and watch another man marry my woman. But I do think it’s important to meet the person you’re living with. I mean, what if he’s a creep? Or a serial killer?”

“He’s not a serial killer.”

“You don’t know that. I searched him out after we got back today, and he has a clean record, but it seems you forgot to tell me one thing about him.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And that is?”

“That he looks like a Calvin Klein model.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What? Wait a minute… are you…?” I began giggling as I stared at the serious expression on Jeff’s face. “Are you jealous?”

He tossed his hands up in defeat. “I’m glad you find this funny! It’s not every day your girlfriend marries a good-looking-ass guy.”

“Just a quick reminder that none of this was my idea, Jeff. It was yours. I didn’t want to go through with it.”

“I know, all right? I know. I just didn’t know you were shacking up with a Greek god.”

I moved in closer and wrapped my arms around him. “I didn’t even notice his looks, honestly.”

That was a lie. I did notice his looks. It was impossible not to do so.

Jeff appeared relieved by my response. “You should keep your distance.”

I smiled. “I don’t see the jealous side of you often. It’s kind of a turn-on.”

He placed his records down and pulled me onto his lap. “Yeah? That does it for you?”

“My boyfriend being jealous of my fake husband? Oh, yeah. That’s the key to my turn-ons.”

He glanced down the hallway. “Are you free for a bit?”

“Yes.” I felt butterflies forming in my stomach as I snuggled into him, thinking the next stop would be our bedroom. Instead, Jeff’s phone rang, and the small connection we had was interrupted as he answered it with me in his lap.