Love Under Quarantine

Evan sits on the couch, watching me with a deliberately blank face. “Just delete the message.”

“Also, a lovely lady by the name of Karen who blew you in a hot tub in Seattle a few years back says hi. She also says she’s still available when you’re ready to kick my fat ass to the curb. Charming, Karen. So much for the sisterhood.” My anger isn’t entirely rational. But I don’t care. “Sex in a hot tub? That is not hygienic. Though I’m sort of impressed the woman is able to hold her breath that long under water.”

“I love your ass.”

“A random dude from Oakland says he’d totally do me. That’s nice. I really appreciate the vote of confidence.” I pace all the way to the windows and then turn back towards the kitchen.

“Random dude from Oakland can keep dreaming. You’re mine.”

I keep scrolling. Like a mad woman. “This person wants to know what Tarah thinks of me. Who’s Tarah, Evan?”

“You really didn’t look me up at all, huh?” he asks, stuffing a cushion behind his head. There’s a vaguely pained expression on his face now. This should be interesting.

“No. I was respecting your privacy. Waiting for you to tell me about your past or anything I needed to know.”

He prods at his teeth with the tip of his tongue. “Um. Yeah. Tarah was a swimsuit model I took to a Valentine’s Day charity event thing. Nice girl. A one-off. We had fun. Once.”

“You dated the model Tarah Moore?”

“I wouldn’t call it dating.” He sighs.

I flop onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Holy cow. She’s gorgeous.”

“You’re gorgeous,” he says.

“And you went out with her this year?” My voice wobbles and I hate it. Hate every second of the burn of insecurity that comes with dating not only a celebrity but someone who’s so incredibly good looking.

“Yes.”

“I see.” My heart plummets. Tarah Moore is a goddess. I’m a weirdo introvert novelist.

A frustrated-sounding groan spills from my man. “Sadie. Baby. We’re together now. None of this matters. Let’s just pretend we both came to this relationship virgins. Both of us pure and untouched. I never knew any swimsuit models or girls named Karen. You didn’t date pencil-dick Sean and your idiot high school boyfriend sure as hell doesn’t exist. Deal?”

“Ha. I’ll think about it.” Think about how perfect Tarah is. I pout.

“Everyone out there has an opinion. Doesn’t mean we need to give them head space.” He smooths down my hair with a hand, leans over, and kisses the crown of my head. “You’re going to drive yourself crazy reading the comments on all of these dumb-ass articles. None of these people know us. None of them have a fucking clue who we are or what we mean to each other. Our lives are our own.”

“I know.” And I do know what it’s like. “Hell, I don’t even read my own reviews. Constructive criticism from a source I trust, absolutely. Let me hear it. I want to learn and do better. But a random person on the Internet who wants to blast me because there was too much sex, too little sex, too much profanity, too little profanity. The plot was weak. Book wasn’t funny. The bad guy was hotter. You name it, I’ve heard it. I just thank them for buying my book and taking the time to read it but am usually able to let it go and focus on the fact that I finished it. I put my heart and soul into it and then set it free. People are going to like it or not. I have no control over it.”

“Then why are you beating yourself up about this?”

I roll my head to the side, all the better to see his handsome face. “I love you. This just kind of took me by surprise. I’m going to try and calm down now. Let go of the fact that everyone in the world seems to want a piece of our happiness. It’s none of their business and it sucks that they even care.”

“I’m sorry you have to put up with it, darling. It’s the biggest downside of the job.”

“But it’s a job you love so it’s worth putting up with. I’ll get my bearings. Bitch, moan and groan about this today because it’s new, then I’ll move on.”

Evan’s phone rings on his lap. He ignores it completely, focused solely on me. God, he’s so good to me.

“Baby, your phone.” I glance at the screen and my heart starts pounding. “It’s Levi!” I shriek and grab the phone, my hand shaking as I press it into his.

“Fucking finally, he calls me back!” He accepts the call. “Yo, Levi.”

I curl into Evan’s side. “Put it on speaker,” I whisper. I have no right to ask him to share his call but I’m dying with anticipation. Last night we sent the image of him with Mindy via text and Evan tried to call his friend but got no answer.