Once EJ leaves, I go into the bathroom and crank the water. With jerky movements, I throw the clothes he gave me onto the vanity. The ring on my finger sparkles in the impeccable lighting of this room, just like everything in Vegas. It looks bright and shiny at a glance, but the shadows can sometimes reach out and grab you, dragging you down a path you aren’t sure you want to go on. Sighing, I slide it off, carefully placing it on the granite countertop. Stepping into the shower, I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. The water washes over my body, and suddenly I’m so damn tired.
Leaning against the glass, I slide down, curling my knees to my chest and immediately lose every bit of my cool. I sob, tears running down my face, stomach heaving, breath breaking as I try to comprehend what the hell has happened in the last twelve hours or so.
How did I go from having a crush on EJ to being his wife? How do we get out of this mess? Not to mention what am I going to tell my parents? We don’t have the best relationship, it’s been strained since I was a teenager, but they at least deserve to hear it from me. By now, the news is out, and what the hell am I going to tell my fans?
The heat of the water is getting to be too much, making me light-headed, so I stand up, quickly washing my body and hair. Getting out, I look at myself in the mirror as I dry off, really taking an inventory of my body. The evidence of the time EJ and I had last night is a roadmap across my skin. Love bites on my chest, down my stomach, there are thumb prints on my thighs, and I’m sore in all the best ways. I just wish I remembered all of it.
“Brianna, are you good?” I hear his deep voice outside the bathroom door.
Immediately I’m taken back to a fuzzy memory.
EJ’s body covers mine, his lips against my ear as I spread my thighs wide, allowing him to press inside me. Twining my arms around his neck, I hold on tightly as he grips my ass, tilting it, holding me still as he works against my core. His arm muscles are bulging, as he pushes in, withdraws, pushes in.
“You good, Brianna?” He pulls the lobe of my ear in between his teeth, tugging gently.
“So good,” I answer, tilting my head to the side to connect my lips with the expanse of his neck within my reach. “Don’t stop, EJ, please don’t stop.”
Shaking my head, I clear the memory, a small smile playing at the corner of my lips. “I’m good,” I answer quickly. “Let me get dressed and I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Finding a toothbrush and toothpaste in a travel packet, still sealed, is the answer to prayers. I feel like a brand-new person, wiping my mouth, before putting my hair up in a towel.
Finally I’m ready to face the world, even though I’m not wearing my own clothing. His clothes are huge on me, but it makes me feel like we’re a team. Leaving the bathroom, I see him sitting in a chair on the far side of the bedroom. There’s another chair facing him. He stands as he sees me. “Hey.” he gives me a smile, his dimple popping slightly in his cheek, barely visible beneath his beard.
“Hey,” I answer, slowly walking over to where he’s standing.
“You okay?” he asks as he indicates I should sit across from him. “I didn’t hurt you last night, did I? I don’t remember a whole lot.” His voice is sheepish as he runs a hand through his black hair.
“I’m okay.” I bite my lip, a nervous gesture I have. Kind of embarrassed about what I’m about to say. “I’ve never quite known what the term thoroughly fucked feels like, but now I know.”
A blush works its way up his cheeks as he ducks his head. “No other woman in the history of the world has made me blush,” he chuckles. “But I kinda feel the same way you do.” He lifts his shirt, causing me to gasp.
“Wow, ummm.” I have nothing to say about the marks on his body. “I guess we had a good time.”
“Yeah.” He reaches over to the table, holding up an empty condom wrapper. “I found a couple of these while I was waiting on you to come out, so hopefully we were protected. If we weren’t…” He stops, sighing. “I’ve only ever been with one other person without being protected. It was a serious relationship, but it ended three years ago, so you have nothing to worry about.”
This is one of the most embarrassing conversations I’ve ever had, especially with someone I just met. “I’m on birth control.” I push my hair back from my face. “And I’ve only ever been with three guys, none of them without protection, so you’re good with me too.”
He sobers up. “You and I both know that nothing is ever one hundred percent effective. There’s always a chance, no matter what. So please, let me know?”
He lets the rest of what he would possibly say trail off. “I will…” I squirm in my seat under the heat of his gaze.
“While you were in the shower, I checked my email after what Knox said. There’s an email copied to both of us from the record company saying how good this PR is for everyone involved. They want us to stay married, and they’ve hinted if we don’t, they won’t push either one of our albums.”
My heart drops as I hear what he’s saying. The album I just recorded is my favorite; they finally gave me the opportunity to write some of my own songs, and I’m proud of it. Prouder of it than I have been about anything in a long time.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, they even brought Mom and Dad into this.” He leans back, spreading his legs. “About how I’m the product of one of the greatest love stories of all time, and how will that look and reflect poorly on them.”
“That’s bullshit.” I get angry for the ultimatum they’re handing to us. Jumping up, I start to pace before putting my hands in my hair and yanking on the roots. Something to let me know this is real and not some crazy dream we’ve been dropped in the middle of.
“It is,” he agrees, leaning forward to put his hands on his knees. “They want it all from us though, Bri. They want Instagram stories of us together, us talking about each other when we’re apart, pictures of us moving in together, and our lives as a newlywed couple. They want it all, and they want it from us, because they know how much it would sell. They know how big our separate fan bases are and just how huge a combined on would be.”
It hits me like a ton of bricks. My stomach drops and I immediately realize what we’ve done to ourselves. Like a balloon deflated, I drop back into the chair, feeling like I do when I’m about to answer one of my parents texts asking for money. Pissed that I’m being manipulated. “We’re stuck, aren’t we?”
“I’ve given this serious thought. I don’t take it lightly. If we wanna keep our careers, which for me includes three other members of a band and a payroll. I shouldn’t ask this of you, but I don’t want them to suffer because what I’ve done,” he starts, and I know what he’s asking me.
“No, I get it, you’re gonna ask me to go along with this.”
“Obviously we have chemistry.” He points out. “Which is more than a lot of people start out with. If we actually give this a shot and we hate it, then we’ll figure it out, but the people who work for me, they have families.” He grabs his stomach. “And it makes me fuckin’ sick to think that something I did could move them to financial ruin.”
“I feel the same,” I whisper. “There’s a lot of people who keep Team Bri going, and I can’t do that to them. Not to mention myself, I’ve worked hard to have this career.”
For a few moments we’re quiet, and then I have to say what’s on my mind.
“I’ll go along with this, but I want to try for real, EJ. No other women. If we do this, we do it.”
He reaches out, grabbing my hand, kissing the back of it, where I put the ring back on. “We do it for real,” he agrees.
“Call Knox,” I tell him as I grab my phone and text Maddie asking them to meet us back in his room.
Two hours later, we have a plan in place, along with changing my social media names, and we have an announcement drafted. A checklist of things we have to do, that more than anything, make this sound like a business agreement, and I guess it is. Never in my life did I think my marriage would have a checklist attached to it.
- Make up a story about how we met
- Be sure and post a cute story on social media
- Take a bunch of pictures with a photographer that will “chronicle” our (fake) dating life
- Try to figure out what the fuck we’re going to do when this all blows up in our faces
Okay, I added the last one, but what else am I supposed to plan for? It stands to reason if it all comes crashing down, it’ll probably be on my head, and not his.
Reaper and Harmony have showed up, and they’ve agreed with what we’ve talked about. The plan we’ve come up with is hopefully foolproof, and everyone’s in agreement this is the best course of action to take. At some point, Maddie had my stuff delivered to EJ’s room, and we’re eating lunch before we finish what we must for the day.
“How many outfits do we need?” I ask as I get up to go to my bag.
“At least five,” Knox replies while checking stuff off on his phone. “We have to make it seem like the two of you have been taking pictures with each other for several months. Once we get the pics edited tonight, the two of you will upload them, and explain to the world you’ve been dating in secret for the past six months. Then, get ready.”
Maddie shakes her head. “Because all hell is about to break loose. You’re two of the most popular people in music right now.”
I glance over at Harmony, who gives me a small smile. “We’ll be here for you two, every step of the way. Believe it or not, Garrett and I know a thing or two about navigating the media.”
Her words give me hope. This could have been so much worse. Stuck with someone who has a reputation for beating the shit out of his girlfriends, a wandering eye, or someone I’m not attracted to. Somehow I have to believe this will work, because failure isn’t an option.