Believe Me, It's You Page 12

  She was able to piece together about nine chapters, but she was disappointed Dylan's voice seemed to allude her. What puzzled her the most was how close she felt to him, but still she couldn't capture the sound of his voice on paper.

  Before he left for the studio, he'd take her out to eat or just for a drive along the coast. He would hold her hand and on occasion, lean over at a stop sign or a red light and kiss her cheek, or sometimes her neck. Sometimes he'd move to her lips. She loved the feel of his hand in hers. She loved the way so much electricity and heat could be generated by two hands touching.

  It was Wednesday night of her second week in Malibu when he came into her room and sat at the foot of the bed, leaning against the foot board, one leg stretched out on the mattress.

  “Eva, I have a favor to ask,” he said. She looked up at him from her laptop. She was finishing up the tenth chapter, pleased at the progress they'd made that morning.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I need to take someone to this cocktail thing for the sponsors Saturday night. I'm not taking Vanessa. I already told Calvin. I'd really like it if you went with me.” He looked at her, waiting for her answer.

  “I'd like to go, but how would that work? I mean, won't there be press there?” she asked.

  “Yeah, it's a publicity thing, so there'll be lots of press there. But it's people Calvin's handpicked, so they're not going to be jerks. They'll mainly write positive things. That's how they get invited. That's how they get the exclusive,” he said.

  “Oh, okay. So what will you tell your sponsors? Who am I supposed to be to you?” she asked.

  “Well, I'll probably just introduce you as my friend and the writer of my book. That's really all they need to know. They'll be thrilled about the book, believe me. It's more publicity,” he said. “I'll look out for you. It'll be fun. We can get dressed up and you can get out of the house, for a change.”

  “Okay, sure,” she said. “What should I wear?”

  “I don't know. Just a dress, I guess. Like the one you wore to Cap's party. That was perfect,” he said.

  “I brought that one. I guess I could wear it again,” she said. “Too bad you've already seen it.”

  “I seriously won't mind seeing it again,” he smiled.

  “You told me it was pretty when we first met at Cap's party. Do you remember that?” she asked.

  “I remember that. In detail. I wanted to tell you you were pretty, but I thought that was too...I lost my nerve,” he grinned.

  “You lost your nerve? Really? That must have been a first for you,” she laughed.

  “Yeah, it was,” he said. They sat in silence for a minute or two. She liked it when he just sat still and looked at her. He always met her eyes. He wasn't used to hiding his feelings, and she admired this about him. He was brave and he made her feel brave, too.

  “I feel like there's something I wanted to tell you, but I forgot what it was,” she said.

  “Let me know if you ever remember,” he said.

  “Okay,” she said. He got up and went to his own room. She fell asleep thinking about all the things she wanted to say to him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  On Friday, Dylan had the day off. Roscoe was sick with the flu and two of the studio musicians who were supposed to record tracks refused to come in because they were afraid of getting sick, so Dylan rescheduled the studio time.

  “What do you want to do today?” he asked when she finished drying her hair. He was standing at her bathroom door, watching her brush through the tangles and arrange the curls. They were becoming more and more familiar with each other, having lived together for almost two weeks now. It was usually just the two of them in the house, when Dylan was home. Occasionally, Teddy came in and had a meal with them, or just said hello. The maid had been in a couple times.

  They talked a lot and they now knew the names of each others' family members, best childhood friends, and current friends. She told him about her nieces and nephews, on Paul's side and how she used to babysit them every other weekend, so their parents could go out. She cried a little when she told him how much she missed them, and she wondered if she'd ever see them again. He told her about his little cousins and how he brought them out to L.A. in the summer, when they didn't have school and took them to Disneyland. He loved kids and wanted a big family. He hated not having siblings and never wanted to have an only child.

  “I don't care. It's your day off. We should do something you like doing,” she said.

  “Want to go motocross racing?” he smiled.

  “Besides that,” she said.

  “I know. We could drive up to Big Bear and rent a boat and go out on the lake,” he said. “I went once with my friends when they were in town. It's really pretty.”

  “Okay! That sounds like fun,” she said.

  “I'll see if I can find this guy's number and make sure he has a boat we can rent,” he said.

  She finished getting ready and came out to find Dylan packing some bread and other foods in a bag.

  “I got us a boat,” he said. “I thought we could take some stuff to eat and have lunch on the boat. Do you want some wine?”

  “Sure. How long does it take to drive there?” she asked, finding some olives in the refrigerator and handing them to him to put in a bag.

  “It's a couple hours,” he said. “We should get there by noon.”

  They gathered up the food, wine and a couple blankets in case it was cold on the lake and packed up the SUV. She climbed in and fastened her seat belt. Dylan got in and took out his phone.

  “Hey Teddy,” he said. “We're going over to Big Bear. Yeah, I got a rental at this Lakeside Marina place. We're taking a boat out for the day. We should be back around 9 or 10 tonight. Yeah, just me and Eva. Okay. Later.”

  “Why'd you call Teddy?” she asked.

  “I usually tell him where I am if I go out of town,” he said. “He's my bodyguard, so...I'd rather let them know where I am than have them freak out when no one can reach me.” It was the little things like this that reminded Eva from time to time Dylan was no ordinary person. He was and then he wasn't. There was so much riding on him for so many people. At any given moment, people were talking about him, writing about him, dreaming about him, wanting to be him. And some were hating him. Sometimes it was too much for her to fully comprehend, so she put it in the back of her mind.

  They talked about music most of the way to Big Bear. Dylan turned down the radio at one point and sang most of the song he'd just recorded the night before so Eva could hear it. She smiled, looking out the window. His voice, especially a capella, just for her-the same voice that filled 18,000 seat auditoriums-made her want to touch him, made her want to kiss him. Made her want him. She wasn't immune to what millions of girls all over the world felt when he sang, that was for sure. The difference was, she could look him in the eye and smile. She could lean over and kiss his ear and tell him to pull over, and he would. She could tell him to get undressed and make love to her, right there on the side of the road, and he would, without question. She could ask him to be hers 'til the end of time, and there was a sporting chance he might say yes. The power made her dizzy. Sometimes it was all she could do not to abuse it. She knew it wouldn't be enough to have him for a night or two. She was sick in love with Dylan Moore and if it went wrong, who else could fill those shoes?

  The lake was beautiful, huge and clear, surrounded by pine trees. The man at the marina greeted them and gave them their choice of two boats. One had a galley with a large sofa, a small kitchen and a tiny bedroom with a small bath. They climbed aboard and the man gave Dylan a set of keys and showed him where the emergency equipment was.

  “Do you know how to operate this boat, Dylan?” she teased him, leaning over the back of his seat.

  “Yes, it's just an electric boat. It's not like sailing on the Pacific,” he steered it out into the lake. He let her sit in the seat and steer for a while, leaning over and correcting her steering
from time to time if he saw something in the lake she couldn't see from her seated position. After a while, they came to a nice cove. Dylan took the wheel and steered the boat into the mouth of the cove. He turned off the engine and anchored the boat.

  “You make a good sailor, Dylan,” she said. “Is there anything you can't drive?”

  “A golf ball,” he said. “It's the only thing I've ever sucked at.”

  “I hate golf,” she said, climbing out onto the front of the boat. “Come up here and sit. It's warm in the sun,” she said to him. He climbed up and sat down next to her, carrying the wine and two glasses.

  “On an empty stomach. You're trying to get me drunk,” she said.

  “Yep,” he said, taking a small Swiss army knife out of his jacket pocket and taking the foil off the bottle. She held it for him while he used the corkscrew to open the bottle.

  “You're not going to get drunk and try to drive the boat are you?” she said.

  “No, I'm having one glass,” he laughed. “Maybe two. Have you ever seen me drunk?”

  “No, I just heard you drunk. But I've never seen you drunk,” she said.

  “Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that,” he said. She took the glass from his hand and drank a bit of the wine.

  When she'd finished the glass, she sat it down and lay back, closing her eyes because the sun was so bright. It was windy and the sun felt so warm. She felt Dylan's hand touch her stomach and move around to her waist. She opened her eyes and his face was inches from hers. She could feel his breath on her cheek. He was watching her face and the sun behind him illuminated his hair, like a crown. He was so beautiful, back lit by the sun, she had to blink. She parted her lips, but didn't know what it was she wanted to say. She waited for him to lower his lips to hers, but he didn't. He just went on watching her face.

  “You keep thinking I'm gonna hurt you, but you have all the power here,” he said. She reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. He caught her hand in his. He entwined his fingers in hers and lay back down, his arm around her, resting it on her stomach. He put his head down and closed his eyes. She let go of his hand and rolled over, facing him. Now it was her turn to watch him. He opened his eyes and smiled up at her. She smiled and touched his stomach. Her hand moved down to the opening of his shirt and she watched his eyes as she touched the bare skin of his stomach. She could feel the muscles tense and move as she moved her hand up to his chest and back down again, around his waist and along his lower back. He turned toward her and she let her hand drift up across his bare back, along his shoulders and back again, to his lower back, so smooth. He reached out and put his arm around her. He never once broke eye contact until his lips found hers. His tongue moved against her lips, soft and warm, tasting faintly of wine. She opened her lips and let him in, her lips pressing against his, harder, tasting him. He pulled back and looked at her.

  “We could go make love,” he said. “We can go to the bedroom.”

  “What if we don't?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” he said.

  “I love you, Dylan,” she said. He kissed her mouth.

  “I love you, Eva,” he said. “I want to make love to you. It's too much, being around you all the time.”

  “Do you love me enough to go at my pace?” she asked

  “Why? I'll wait, but why? When? You want me too, right?” he looked so confused.

  She sat up.

  “You're not just anybody, Dylan,” she said. “How do I explain this...you need to know for sure you love me. Because I don't want you to...get tired of me, be done with me.”

  “What?” he was sitting up now. “Eva, I'm not gonna have sex with you and be done with you. What are you talking about? How could you think that about me? I've done nothing but try to tell and show you how I feel about you. And you say you love me, but then you think such bad things about me. How can you love me?”

  “Maybe I'm just not ready,” she said, starting to cry. “I can't have an affair with you.”

  “I don't want an affair with you, Eva,” he said. “I want you to be mine. I want to be yours.”

  “You're 21,” she said. He looked at her and shook his head. He got up and went into the boat and sat down, his back to her. She lay down and put her hands over her face. “What the fuck's wrong with you, Eva,” she whispered to herself. You're gonna mess things up.

  She went down below to the galley and they ate in silence. She tried to wipe away the tears as they fell. Occasionally, she caught Dylan looking at her, but he didn't say anything. When they were done, he took the boat back and paid the man. He got into the SUV next to her. He didn't start the engine and she looked over at him. He was looking at her, but it was getting dark and she couldn't see his face. After a minute he sighed.

  “I don't know what to do, Eva. I-”

  “I'm sorry, Dylan. You don't know-I just don't want my heart broken,” she said, starting to cry again. He reached over and took her in his arms.

  “It's okay,” he said. “I'm sorry. I can't help wanting you like this. I know I'm only 21, but I know what I want. I know how to run my life, my career. I could take care of you, but you don't have any faith in me...that hurts me.”

  “I keep trying to tell you..I need more time,” she said. “I will have faith in you if you don't rush things.”

  “Okay,” he said. “You can make the move, when you're ready.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The next morning, Dylan's door was closed and he was still in bed when Eva got up. She decided to go out and sit on the balcony that wrapped around the house. She poured herself some coffee and pulled her robe around her, tight. She sat on one of the chairs and put her feet up, avoiding the cold tile on her bare feet. She looked at the ocean, beating against the shore. The waves looked to be about 15 feet high that morning. The sun was bright and it warmed her face. Even in early November, she'd gotten a slight tan yesterday out on the boat. She was looking forward to the party tonight. Even though she wouldn't know anyone but Calvin and Dylan, she needed to be out of the house for a while. For the first time, she was feeling awkward alone with Dylan. She alternated between feeling like a tease and a nut case. She had stayed awake late, lying in bed cursing Paul for making her temporarily insane. She wished she would have had a transitional man before she met Dylan. Someone who didn't matter quite so much and with whom she could have exorcised these demons of hers.

  “Good morning,” Dylan sat his soda down on the table and sat down.

  “Good morning. I thought you couldn't drink soda,” she said. “Your voice..”

  “I'm not in the studio until Wednesday. I've got to enjoy myself sometimes,” he looked tired.

  “Did you sleep alright?” she asked.

  “Mm. Okay, I guess. Ready to party tonight?” he smiled at her.

  “Yeah! I am ready to party,” she smiled back.

  “Don't expect too wild of a night,” he said. “There's gonna be a lot of suits there. We should plan on getting drunk. Liven things up a little.”

  “What time do we go?” she asked.

  “We should probably leave here by 5:00,” he said. “Calvin's got the stylist and all that coming at 3:00.”

  “What are you going to wear?” she asked.

  “I don't know. They'll have all that picked out when the stylist comes.”

  “The life of a rock star,” she said.

  “Yep. I don't even know what I'll have to wear,” he looked out at the ocean. “Luckily, my stylist Jason is pretty good. He knows what I like and what I don't.”

  “I think that's awesome,” she said. “I wish I didn't have to pick out my clothes.”

  “What? I thought women loved shopping for clothes,” he said.

  “Not this woman,” she said. “I don't have an eye for dressing myself.”

  “Really? I think you do fine,” he said.

  “Thanks,” she said. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No,” he looked at her. “I'm not mad at y
ou.”

  “Because if you were, I wouldn't blame you,” she sighed. “I don't know why I'm so fucked up.”

  “I don't think that about you. You're not fucked up, believe me. I've seen some fucked up women before. You're not one of them. I'm just trying to understand you.”

  “I wish I'd met you before Paul,” she said.

  “Well, I would have been about 16 then, so you would have been a molester,” he said.

  “Ha ha,” she smiled and shook her head. “That's not what I meant.”

  “I know,” he said. “But you didn't and really, I like you the way you are now, so...”

  “We should have made love yesterday,” she said. “I don't know why I froze up.”

  “We have time now, if you want to go inside,” he said. She smiled.

  “The moment's passed,” she said.

  “We could make a new moment,” he said, leaning over to look at her.

  “I'm sure we will,” she smiled at him. “In the meantime, I'm gonna go get a shower and get dressed.”

  “Okay,” he sat out on the balcony, drinking his soda and she went in and got showered.

  At 3:00, people started showing up. First, Jason came with five garment bags of clothes. Dylan introduced them and she instantly liked Jason. He was like a combination clown and task master, making Dylan try on jackets and t-shirt/jacket combinations, the whole time cracking jokes and making them laugh. Eventually, they came up with a jacket and button down silk shirt combination with a pair of black jeans in some sort of velveteen fabric that clung to Dylan's hips. He looked beautiful. Carol, the hairstylist showed up, carrying everything a traveling hairstylist to the A-listers might need. She sat Dylan down after he'd taken off his shirt and changed back into his jeans, and started cutting his hair, trimming like she'd done it a million times, yelling at him when he turned to talk to her or Jason.