Page 134 of The Compass Series

STELLA

“ S hit, my head,” Jeff mumbled as he rolled around in the bed. I’d been waiting one too many hours for him to wake up from his drunken night.

“I’m surprised you’re not throwing up,” I commented as I sat on the edge of the mattress.

He shifted around and rubbed the palms of his hands against his eyes. When he adjusted to his surroundings, he groaned as I’m sure the light flooding the room intensified his headache.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“At Kevin’s place. I had to pick you up last night from the club. Don’t you remember?”

“No. Honestly, I don’t even remember doing my show last night.”

“That’s because you didn’t do your show.”

“What?! Why?!” he exclaimed, shooting up to a sitting position in the bed. I jumped a bit from his sudden action.

“I don’t know, Jeff. You tell me. I mean, I get a call from a person using your phone, telling me to pick you up. You’re sitting outside the club bent over with your equipment—and by the way, where the hell did you get that equipment?”

He rubbed his hands over his face and mumbled, “We aren’t doing this right now, Stella.”

“Excuse me? Jeff? We definitely need to do this right now. Do you know how much you humiliated me in front of Damian last night? In front of those people outside of the club?”

He looked my way and tilted his head. His brows lowered, and he cleared his throat. “Did you get my equipment?”

My heart sank as he overlooked my question and went on to the subject of his materialistic items.

He must’ve caught a note of the hurt of him pushing my comments to the side because he quickly stood to his feet.

“I’m sorry, Stella. I’m an idiot. I made a complete mess of things last night.

I was extremely pumped about the gig I had, and all I could hear in my head was my father’s voice, telling me I wasn’t good enough.

That I couldn’t do it. So I had a few drinks to get out of my own head. ”

“You know drinking never really helps you.”

“Yeah, but you know”—he tapped the side of his head and shrugged— “Daddy issues and shit. But I’m sorry.” He walked over to me and wrapped his arms around me. “I won’t mess up like this again,” he swore.

“Okay. But the equipment?”

“Can’t I sober up before this conversation continues? I already know you’re going to eat my ass out for it.”

“Just tell me, Jeff.”

“I took out a small loan, all right?”

“What? Why would you do that? We can’t afford?—”

“But we can,” he cut in, taking my hands into his. He squeezed them lightly. “I don’t think you understand this, Stella. We’re multimillionaires due to good ole Kevin.”

“That’s only if we make it the six months. Besides, you shouldn’t be taking out loans for things when?—”

“Why can’t you be happy for us?!” he shouted, his irritation building by the second. “You’re always praying to your ocean god for help, so when they send it, you can’t even celebrate it.”

I felt a knot forming in my gut. “Please lower your voice.”

“Please stop being so, so, so?—”

“So what, Jeff?”

“ Like you !” he barked. “You make everything a bigger deal than it actually has to be. It’s fucking exhausting. You’re exhausting, Stella.”

Chills raced down my spine as I looked into his eyes and the heavy bags beneath them. His words stung, and I was left speechless.

“Is there a problem in here?” a deep voice asked. I turned to find Damian standing there with his broad shoulders and his arms crossed. His focus was on Jeff, and he looked ready to attack.

“Who the hell are you?” Jeff asked.

“I’m Damian, Stella’s roommate.”

Roommate. Husband. Same thing, different terms.

Jeff puffed out his chest a bit and turned to me. “That’s the guy from the will?”

“We met last night,” Damian coldly stated. “I’m guessing you were too plastered to recall that encounter.”

“Yeah, probably.” Jeff stared my way. “I’m going to get water, then we’ll finish this discussion at home.”

Before I could say anything, Jeff pushed past both Damian and me and headed out of the bedroom.

When he was gone, I released the breath that was caught in my throat. I hadn’t even known I’d been holding it in. I felt the heat to my cheeks as I stared at Damian. “I’m sorry about the noise.”

“He yelled at you.”

“Yeah. He’s a bit hungover and not much of a morning person.”

“It’s noon.”

“Right. Of course. But, well he?—”

“You don’t have to do that, Stella.”

“Do what?”

“Make excuses for his actions.”

I didn’t know what to say, and it appeared he didn’t either because we stood there for a moment in complete silence. I could tell something was on his mind, though. Something was always lingering in Damian’s thoughts. He simply never shared them with an audience.

“Just say it, Damian. I know you’re thinking something, so go ahead and say it.”

“It bothers me,” he stated, standing tall.

“What bothers you?”

“The way he drinks, and the way he speaks to you when he drinks. The way he yells at you when he’s hungover. That bothers me.”

“I—”

“Does he hurt you?” he cut in, stepping closer to me.

“You can’t keep asking me that, Damian,” I whispered.

“I’ll stop asking when you stop lying about it, Stella.”

I swallowed hard, feeling chills race up and down my arms. “He’s never hit me,” I said sternly, certain.

Damian’s facial features shifted into the most heartbreaking expression. His ocean blue eyes looked on the verge of despair as he stared my way. His expression alone almost made me fall to my knees and cry.

“Stella,” he whispered, inching closer. So close that the space between us was mere inches. So close that I was able to feel the heat radiating from his body. His mouth parted as he spoke a truth I didn’t even think of uncovering. “That isn’t the only way a man can hurt a woman.”

“I… he’s…” I felt confused. Uncertain of what it was that Damian even wanted me to say. “Jeff isn’t as bad as you think.”

“I hope you treat yourself as kindly as you do others, but judging by your choice of partnership, I doubt it.”

“That’s mean, Damian,” I softly said, feeling on the verge of tears.

“Then I apologize,” he replied. “I do not mean to offend. I simply mean to speak facts.”

“It’s not facts. It’s your opinion.”

“Trust me, Stella. It’s facts.”

“Stella! My phone’s dead. I need you to drive me back to my car,” Jeff shouted. “Hurry, will you?”

Damian stepped backward.

I stood still, shaken up by the whole situation. “Sorry, I have to go,” I muttered, walking past him to leave the room.

“Stella.”

“Yes?”

“He’s not the hero in your romantic comedy,” Damian stated. I looked over at those blue eyes of his as he continued. “He’s the dick boyfriend in the opening credits.”

After Jeff and I made it back to our place, he was still slightly hungover, so I cooked him breakfast. It took a while for his apologies to come, but he did say he was sorry for the way he treated me. Then he threw me for a loop.

“What do you mean you want to meet him?” I asked, confused by Jeff’s words. “You just met him.”

“No, I mean really meet him. A sit-down conversation.”

“Why?”

“Why not? You don’t think it’s a good idea for your boyfriend to meet your husband?” he said as he sat in the living room, flipping through his collection of vinyl records. “Unless there’s a reason you’re being weird about it.”

I felt as if he sucker-punched me with his words as I moved across the room and sat on the floor beside him. “What? No. Of course there isn’t a reason. Why would you think that?”

“I wasn’t invited to the wedding,” he said.

I laughed. “You were invited. You said you didn’t want to come.”

“Of course, I didn’t want to come and watch another man marry my woman. But I do think it’s important to meet the person you’re living with. I mean, what if he’s a creep? Or a serial killer?”

“He’s not a serial killer.”

“You don’t know that. I searched him out after we got back today, and he has a clean record, but it seems you forgot to tell me one thing about him.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And that is?”

“That he looks like a Calvin Klein model.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What? Wait a minute… are you…?” I began giggling as I stared at the serious expression on Jeff’s face. “Are you jealous?”

He tossed his hands up in defeat. “I’m glad you find this funny! It’s not every day your girlfriend marries a good-looking-ass guy.”

“Just a quick reminder that none of this was my idea, Jeff. It was yours. I didn’t want to go through with it.”

“I know, all right? I know. I just didn’t know you were shacking up with a Greek god.”

I moved in closer and wrapped my arms around him. “I didn’t even notice his looks, honestly.”

That was a lie. I did notice his looks. It was impossible not to do so.

Jeff appeared relieved by my response. “You should keep your distance.”

I smiled. “I don’t see the jealous side of you often. It’s kind of a turn-on.”

He placed his records down and pulled me onto his lap. “Yeah? That does it for you?”

“My boyfriend being jealous of my fake husband? Oh, yeah. That’s the key to my turn-ons.”

He glanced down the hallway. “Are you free for a bit?”

“Yes.” I felt butterflies forming in my stomach as I snuggled into him, thinking the next stop would be our bedroom. Instead, Jeff’s phone rang, and the small connection we had was interrupted as he answered it with me in his lap.

“Hello? Hey, yeah. What’s up?” Jeff listened to the other person speaking, and his eyes lit up. “Right now? Oh hell yes, I’m in. Give me twenty minutes. I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone and went to stand quickly, knocking me out of his lap and onto the floor.

“Hey!” I argued.

“Sorry, babe. Just got a call from 5-90 club. They need a last-minute DJ, and Cassie gave them my name.”

“Cassie? Who’s Cassie?”

“Another local DJ,” he explained. He looked at me, and a wicked smirk fell against his lips. “Now who’s jealous?”

“What? I’m not…” Okay, maybe a little. But he didn’t have to throw that in my face. He knew everything about Damian and the situation. I’d never heard the name Cassie fall from his lips, not once, but I didn’t want to fight. Not with everything going on. “You’re going now?”

“Yeah. It’s a big opportunity for me. For us, I mean. I gotta go spin.”

“Wait, we still need to talk. Especially about that new equipment you have, and?—”

“Stella. Not now. I lost out on money last night, and I can’t again today. Can you chill with the overthinking for a moment?”

I got quiet.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let me guess. You’re going to be pissy now.”

“What? No. It’s just… I feel like we’re having a disconnected moment.”

“That’s just because you’re too sensitive and overthinking this. We’re fine, baby. I forgive you for overreacting.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek before he hurried out of the space and went to collect his things.

Was I overreacting? Was I too sensitive?

He’s right. I’m overthinking it all.

Once he finished, he came out and found me still sitting on the living room floor where he dropped me. He walked over to me and kissed my forehead. “Wish me luck.”

“Luck,” I muttered.

“I’ll see you in a bit, all right? And I wasn’t kidding before. Set up a dinner meeting for Damian and me. I want to make my presence known.”

“Okay. Love you,” I called out.

“You too,” he replied, slamming the front door behind him.