“If you think it’s best.” Reaching for her hand, I guide us out onto the balcony. We both lean over at the same time and do a little people watching until someone yells our names. Once that happens, they scurry to get into position to take our photos.
“They’re crazy.”
“You have no idea,” I tell her. “But it’s their job. They have families to feed.”
“But they’re aggressive!” Joey peers over the balcony, enticing the crowd below to get louder. Unfortunately, our suite is somewhat low to the ground so the photographers are getting decent shots.
“Some are, others respect you. It’s when they’re crawling through your bushes that you start having issues with them.”
Joey blanches and I shrug. I’m used to it.
“Come stand next to me,” she says, hooking her arm with mine. I lean down and kiss her and the media frenzy below us erupts. She smiles against my lips, hopefully because I’m kissing her and not at what is happening on the streets. She’s going to quickly realize that being followed and having your every move captured is intrusive and very annoying.
“I think we should go inside,” I whisper into her ear, another perfect shot for the cameras. She nods against me, slipping her hand into mine and following me back into our room where I shut and lock the door and pull the privacy curtains closed. The last thing I need is for any part of her body to be spread across the papers in the morning.
Joey is moving around the room, side-stepping the rose petals on the floor as if it’s some type of game. I watch, in awe of her beauty, as she giggles and tries to balance herself so she doesn’t fall over.
“What are you looking at?” she asks as she tips her head shyly.
“My wife,” I answer with an inflection in my voice.
There’s a visible change in her demeanor when those words register with her. I walk toward her, careful not to mess up the petals on the floor in case she wants to dance around them again, and lift her chin to meet my gaze.
“My wife,” I say again, and watch her eyes flutter and her cheeks turn rosy. “My wife.” This time the words are a mere whisper as I repeat myself, if not for me, but for her so she knows that I’m right where I want to be.
“I love you, Joey. And I’m sorry for what happened after the show, but know this: I never had any intention of letting you go—I don’t care what I said in the house. From the moment I kissed you on stage, I knew you were going to be in my life and I fought my attraction to you until I couldn’t anymore.”
“I think you already know how I feel.”
“I do,” I tell her. “Most people in my position would freak out being married to a fan, but you’re the only person that sees the real me and if that hasn’t scared you away, I don’t know what will.”
Sighing, Joey steps into my arms. Her head rests against my shoulder and her fingers grip the back of my shirt, almost as if she’s trying to keep me here.
“Jules scares me,” she says, mumbling into my chest.
I pull her tighter to me and kiss the top of her head before leading her over to the couch. When she sits, I reach for her legs and bring them onto my lap so I can get as close to her as possible and still be able look into her eyes.
“I’m not going to sugar coat any of this, Joey, so if you have any questions, you ask and I’ll answer them honestly. I have no secrets.”
“Okay.”
Shit, I was hoping she’d start with a question. Inhaling deeply, I steady myself for what could be an ugly conversation.
“There was a time when I thought I’d be with Jules forever. She wanted marriage and I didn’t. In fact, until I married you the thought had never crossed my mind. For a while we were serious, but it wasn’t enough for her and she became emotionally comfortable with Bronx. Jules says she didn’t cheat, but I’m not confident in her truth telling so we broke up and did this whole off and on thing for a bit. Jules, for the most part, was a casual hook-up because I felt she was safe.”
“Have you been with her since the show?”
My eyes narrow in on Joey, hating that she even felt she needed to ask this of me. “No, hell fucking no. She was there when the show was over, and I told her to get lost. In fact, she’s supposed to star opposite me in that movie I am slated to start filming, but I told my agent no way in hell am I working with her and to have the director find someone else or I’m out.”
Joey tries to shift away from me, but I don’t want her to leave me. Instead, I bring her onto my lap and move us to the corner of the sofa for more comfort. “Believe me when I tell you that she’s not who I want. I don’t really care if I never see her again.”
“She’ll be back, Josh. Scorned women rarely take no for an answer.”
“If she comes back, she’ll see how happily married and in love I am, and realize that she’ll never have a place in my heart. It’s all yours, Joey, there’s no room for anyone else.”
We sit like this, in silence, holding each other for longer than I thought we would. In my mind, I figured we’d be shedding our clothes and truly consummating our marriage. I don’t blame her really for wanting to wait. I suppose if the tables were turned I’d feel the same way.
She tries to get up. “I need to take a shower.”