Big Girls Do It Married

  "No, Anna, that wasn't my point. If that's what you want, then fine, go for it. My point was, you're more talented than that. You've got a great voice. You've got stage presence, and you know how to put on a performance. If you came to New York with me, I could probably score you a meeting with a record exec. You might get a deal, be a singer for real."

  My heart stopped. "You could do that?"

  "Easy. My producer said you had a stunning voice. He said he'd consider signing you himself."

  I had a moment of dreaming: me, alone on a stage, performing; spotlights on me, my name on the marquee.

  But then reality butted in.

  "Chase, that's not me," I said. "Yeah, sure, the idea of being a singer, recording and touring and all that, it sounds great on paper. But if I did that, when would we ever see each other? The music I'd make isn't like yours. We wouldn't tour together. We wouldn't record together. So we'd have different careers, and wouldn't really be together. So if I'm not with you, why would I leave? It just doesn't compute, in my mind. I guess what it comes down to, really, is that I don't have a desire to be famous. I just...I don't know what I do want for my future exactly, but a life of paparazzi and magazine articles and whatever, that's not me."

  Chase put his back to the car and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're really dead set against letting this work, aren't you?" He sighed. "Fine. I guess I'll see you around."

  "God, Chase. It's not that I'm against it, it's just that I don't see it working out with us."

  "You're not even willing to try?"

  "I don't know."

  Chase's eyes bored into me. I felt the brunt of his emotions hitting me, his hope and his love and his fear. He really did love me. "You're afraid, Anna. You're afraid I don't really love you, or that I can't be faithful while I'm on tour. But you do love me. Or at least, you could, if you'd let yourself."

  "You're right, Chase. Is that what you want to hear? Yeah, I left because I was falling in love, and it scared me. But it wasn't you, or the idea of being in love with you that had me panicking. Some of the things that happened in New York bothered me, and I'm not talking about seeing you with the girls. It was...I don't know how to put it. It wasn't me. It was fun, and I enjoyed it, but I don't think it was things I'd do normally. You have a way of bringing out the wildness in me, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that."

  "You're talking about the bathroom thing."

  "That's part of it, yes."

  "It doesn't have to be like that--"

  "Chase, stop. If that's the thing you like, then you should be free to do it. I'm just not sure that's the scene I'm into. I tried it, and...I don't know. The sex was great, but being walked in on, being seen? Sex is private to me, I guess. Sex is always great with you. But I need a relationship that's not just sex."

  Chase looked hurt. "You think our relationship is just about sex?"

  "I think that's a big part of it. I'm intensely attracted to you. Every time I see you I get all quivery inside. You turn me on just by being you. You're out of my league in a major way. I love having sex with you. It's seriously incredible. But there's got to be more. We barely know each other. I'm not sure what we have in common, long term." I had to physically restrain myself from touching him to comfort him, he looked so forlorn. "And I really want long term."

  "But I can do long term. I can."

  "I'm not doubting that. I'm doubting whether you can do long term with me."

  Chase turned away from me. "I can't win this argument, can I?"

  "It's not an argument," I said, softly.

  "Then what is it? Me, begging?" He shook his head, then turned back to me, put his hands on my waist above the swell of my hips. "Anna, I love you. I don't know what else I can say or do to convince you. I'll say it once more. Please, be with me."

  My throat felt thick. "Chase, I--I don't know. I don't think I can. If I leave Jeff, he'll be heartbroken. I can't do that again."

  "What about me? If you turn me down, I'll be heartbroken. Or don't you care about that?"

  I tried desperately to pull away from his touch, but I couldn't. "Of course I care, Chase. No matter what I do, someone gets hurt. Please, don't make this harder than it has to be."

  Chase's eyes narrowed. "It doesn't have to be hard. Just come with me. Jeff is a big boy. He can deal. Just come with me. I can make you happy. You know I can."

  Something in my belly and below it trembled and turned to liquid. The heat in his eyes told me exactly what Chase had in mind when he said he could make me happy. I knew he was right. He could make me happy. My entire body shook with raw, potent desire. For a moment all I could think was how badly I wanted to drag him back to my apartment and rip his clothes off, let him make me happy.

  I wrenched myself out of his grip. "No. Not like this."

  Chase watched with a tight, pained expression. I got in my car, started it, and backed out. He stopped me with a palm slapping against my window.

  I stopped and rolled my window down. "What do you want now, Chase?" Exasperation was rife in my voice.

  He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a black box.

  Goddamn it. I was starting to hate those little boxes.

  "Chase, for god's sake--"

  "Just listen, damn it." He reached through the window and put the box, closed, on my lap. "Take it. Think about it. I love you. I'll give up being a rockstar to be with you. I'll stay here. I'll go wherever you want. I'll even sell my bike and drive a minivan if that's what you want. I just want you."

  And then he was gone, leaving me trembling and hearing his words.

  I managed to make it home before collapsing into sobs. Even in the midst of my confused, heartaching tears, it felt weird to be in my own bed in my apartment. I'd spent so much time over the last few weeks at Jeff's house that my place was starting to feel less and less like home. Jeff was home. I managed to get my bawling under control and lay on my bed, staring at my room. This small space had once been my haven. I'd come here after work, half-drunk and lonely and horny, and I'd read a book or a magazine, or watch TV on the tiny set Jamie had given me on my birthday.

  I was comfortable here. I knew where everything was, where everything belonged. The pile of clothes in the corner by the dresser wasn't just a pile of clothes. It was a specifically sorted pile of clothes; shirts were on top, pants, shorts, and skirts on bottom. The magazines stacked on top of the dresser were piled in order of how much I liked each issue. The bra hanging on the doorknob was clean, the one hanging in the bathroom was dirty. It looked like a mess to a casual observer, but it was my mess, and it was an organized mess.

  Now, after the military cleanliness of Jeff's place, it just looked messy. Jeff would shoot me irritated glances if I left my clothes on the floor. He wouldn't get mad or yell at me--he'd just pick it up and make me feel guilty with a few calculated glances. Now, lying in my bed, looking at the piles of crap, I realized I didn't feel comfortable here anymore. It had felt like my nest before spending so much time at Jeff's.

  I wanted to be back at Jeff's. What did that mean? Did it mean I loved him more than Chase? I hadn't really liked being at Chase's place. It was a room in a house he shared with his band. It was clean enough, nice enough, but it just hadn't felt like home.

  Jeff's house was home. Jeff was home.

  But Chase...he was exciting. He made me dizzy with desire, pure lust, unadulterated greed for his body. He was a rockstar. He'd be famous. I could be famous just for being his girlfriend.

  Jamie wouldn't hesitate. The chance to be with a real live rockstar, an up-and-coming player on the music scene, that wasn't an opportunity to pass up. Especially not when the sex was so mind-blowing.

  I found myself out of bed and cleaning up as I thought. My bed got made, the clothes stacked on it folded, put away. Dirty laundry was set outside my door to wash, magazines and books were put away on the bookshelf opposite my bed. I even vacuumed.

  None of this, however, got me any closer to knowing
what to do.

  I felt better about my room, and was able to actually relax without feeling claustrophobic. I also knew if Jeff came over, he'd be comfortable. He'd tried coming over once, but after that one visit, he'd never suggested coming back. It may have had something to do with the loud and vocal sex noises coming from Jamie's room, but my mess was the largest part of it, even if he'd never said anything.

  Chase wouldn't have minded. He'd have cleared a path to the bed, added our clothes to the mess, and turned his attention to my body.

  Was that something to base a decision on? Suddenly, every little factor and facet of the two men was brought into focus. Jeff was clean, neat, organized, methodical. He was steady, stable. Not predictable, because he'd shown a capacity for constantly surprising me. But I could always depend on him.

  Even now, stewing in my room, I knew I could expect to hear from him soon. He'd get tired of waiting and wonder where I was. He'd want to know what I was doing, even if it was just to make sure I was safe.

  Was Chase dependable? My gut told me he'd be there if I needed him. He really would give up his rising career in music if I told him that was the price to be with me. He'd turn his back on it all and stay here with me. He'd play local gigs, maybe start DJing with me. He'd give me what I wanted. But...he'd always wonder what could have been if he'd followed his dreams, stuck with the career rather than the girl. Would he resent me?

  God, my head was spinning. They were two totally different men, both amazing in their own ways. They were both claiming to be in love with me, and I was faced with the choice between them. This was the stuff of Regency romance books: The plucky and intrepid and oh-so-charming heroine was presented with the impossible task of choosing between the wealthy nobleman offering her a comfortable future and the poor but handsome and completely devoted peasant who loved her unconditionally. Yeah, that was me. Except this was my life. No one was writing this story. I had to make the choice and live with the consequences.

  I knew one thing: I'd hurt one of them, whomever I chose, and I'd always wonder in part of my mind what life would have been like if I'd chosen the other.

  The buzzer jolted me out of my thoughts. I buzzed the person through without checking to see who it was. I opened the door to see Jeff lifting his fist to knock.

  "You are here," he said by way of greeting. He didn't move to come in.

  "Of course. Where else would I be?"

  He frowned. "Gone. New York with pretty--with Chase. You weren't at home--I mean, at my house, so I wasn't sure where you'd be."

  I took his arm and pulled him in, shutting the door behind him. "I talked with Chase and then came here. I needed to think." I flopped down on the couch and stared at the signed Bon Jovi poster of Jamie's hung over the TV. "I'm confused, Jeff."

  He sat down next to me and stretched his arm out behind my head. I nestled into the hollow of his arm automatically. I don't think either of us realized I was doing it until he had his arm wrapped around me.

  "Confused about what?" Jeff asked.

  "Everything," I said. "Talking to him just made things worse."

  "Could have told you that before you went," Jeff remarked.

  "Yeah, and if you had, I would have gone anyway."

  "True," Jeff chuckled. "You're stubborn like that."

  "I just don't know what to do. You're both so different. But you both claim to love me." I glanced up at Jeff to see him flinch. "Sorry, I guess it's not fair to you to talk about this with you."

  "Who else are you gonna talk to about it? I'm still your friend, Anna. That ain't ever gonna change."

  "But you're part of the problem." I sighed. "I didn't mean that. You're not a problem. The situation is a problem, and it's my own fault."

  "I know what you meant. But if you need to talk, then talk."

  "I just don't know what to do."

  "You already said that," Jeff pointed out. "Break it down for me like I'm not one of the choices in front of you."

  "You both claim to love me. That by itself is hard to swallow. Just a couple months ago I was lonely and depressed. I had you and Jamie, and that was about it. I didn't think I'd ever find anyone to love me, and I hadn't had sex in months and didn't feel beautiful." I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and ran my fingers through it. "Now, everything is different.

  "Honestly, a lot of the reason I've begun to realize I'm beautiful is due to Chase. I know you don't want to hear that, but it's true. He started it all. He pursued me, and he made me see myself through his eyes, to a degree. He wanted me. I hadn't felt wanted in...well, ever."

  "I wanted you," Jeff said, his voice quiet.

  "Yeah, but you didn't do anything about it, Jeff. I didn't know you loved me. I thought it was a crush. You let me pretend it wasn't there for six years."

  "I didn't think you wanted me back."

  "Would you have ever made a move on your own?" I asked.

  "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. I wish now I had made a move sooner."

  "Me, too." I ran my fingers across Jeff's cheek. "You make me feel beautiful. My point about Chase is that he got me thinking about myself in a different way. I wouldn't have ever had the courage to try anything with you if it hadn't been for him."

  "Well, I guess I owe him some thanks, then."

  "Me, too," I said. "In a big way."

  Jeff got up and went to the bathroom; when he came back he smirked at me. "Your room looks different. Cleaner."

  I shrugged. "Your house is always so clean. I've spent so much time there that now my room seems nasty. I couldn't relax until I'd cleaned it up."

  Jeff grinned. "Well, glad I'm instilling some good habits in you at least. It was kinda gross the last time I was here."

  I slapped his arm. "Gee, thanks, asshole."

  He laughed. "Hey, you know what I meant." He scrubbed the smile from his face with his palm. "So you went to talk to Chase, and it made things worse. Why, though? I thought you were just going to hear him out."

  "Yeah, well...I guess the problem is I didn't ever really believe he'd done anything awful. It was an excuse. I was feeling things for him that scared me. Plus, I had you on my mind, and I knew I felt things for you, too, and that scared me even more. Like I said when I came back, I felt like I was cheating on you with him, and seeing him with those groupies just made it easier to run. I think I was hoping he'd let me go and this problem I'm having now would be avoided."

  "No such luck."

  "No," I agreed. "No such luck. And now I've got both of you saying you love me, and I have feelings for both of you, but they're completely different feelings."

  "And you don't know what to do," Jeff said.

  "Nope."

  He blew a long breath out between his teeth. "Well, I can't make the choice for you, obviously. And you know what I want. I want you, I want you to pick me. I think I'm best for you. I think I understand you. I think I can give you what you want and need. I think Chase is exciting and fun, and I'm sure he's talented and going places and all that. But I don't think he's right for you. He may be faithful to you if you pick him and go with him. I can't say he's a bad person. I don't know him well enough to make that call. Maybe he's great. Maybe you'd have the best happily ever after with him. Maybe. But I don't think so." He slid off the couch and knelt in front of me, positioned himself between my knees so our faces were level, within kissing distance. "I love you, Anna. I'll love you forever. I'm being completely honest here when I say I want you to be with me instead of him. But more than anything else, I want you to be happy. No matter what. If you think he's the best choice for you, for your life, then go with him and be happy. I let you go to New York without fighting because I knew you'd always wonder if you didn't, and because I could tell nothing I said would change your mind. I didn't want you to go. But you did, and here we are."

  I shook my head. "God, Jeff. That really doesn't help." A sob bubbled out past my lips.

  "I didn't say I could help. I said I'd listen. I said you could talk
to me about what was bugging you. I can't be anything but honest about what I want, and I can't be objective, either."

  "Well, what fucking good are you, then?" I asked. "Kidding. That's the problem, though. You're my best friend, aside from Jamie, and usually you'd help me sort through this."

  "Where is Jamie, anyway? Why can't she talk to you about it?"

  I shrugged. "I don't know where she is. And I don't think she'd be objective, either. Her taste in men is...different from mine. She has her own issues. I just don't think she'd be able to help me. No one can." Another sob whimpered from me, this one more hysterical.

  I was trying to keep it together, but I couldn't, quite. My shoulders shook and my eyes burned. I didn't want to cry.

  Jeff didn't have an answer for that. He moved up onto the couch next to me and drew me onto his lap. "Just breathe, Anna. It's going to be okay. It's a shitty thing to have to choose, and I can't say I know how you feel, 'cause I don't. But remember, we're both adults, okay? Yeah, the fact is, one of us will be hurt when you choose the other. But it won't be the end of the world. I'd be heartbroken, and it'd be real long fucking time before I cared for anyone else like I do you, but I'd be okay, in time. I don't know Chase, but I don't imagine he'd flip out off the deep end, either. Hurt heals, Anna. Choosing sucks. Pain sucks. Hurting someone you care about sucks, but that's life. Life hurts. Sometimes we're faced with a shitty fucking choice that leaves everyone involved hurt somehow. All you can do is make the right choice for you and move on."

  He put his forefinger under my chin and lifted my face to his. I blinked hard, sniffed back tears, and bit my lip to keep from bursting apart. Jeff's dark eyes were soft and tender and compassionate. His body was a hard, strong shelter around me. It didn't fix my problem, but with his arms around me, I felt loved, I felt able to keep breathing despite the crushing pressure on my chest.

  He kissed me, a slow, feather-soft touch of his lips to mine. "Quit holding it in. You don't have to be strong all the time. You're upset. It's okay to feel it."

  His palm rubbed my back, and his fingers brushed tendrils of hair away from my eyes and traced the line of my jaw. I held it in a moment longer, my body trembling with the effort. It began as a single tear down my cheek, then a second. I sniffed, tried to breathe deep enough to hold on to my composure. A sob wrenched my gut, and then another, and then I was wracked by shuddering sobs, a veil of tears obscuring my vision. I was lost then, carried away and helpless. Jeff was my anchor, the only solid thing in my world.