Page 89 of My Rock Star Neighbor
He peers through the oven door.“I didn’t know you could cook like this.Have you been holding out all these years?I feel like I would’ve smelled this deliciousness in the hallway.”
“The last time I cooked a roast was several years ago, during the holidays, so we’ll see if it actually turns out okay,” I say wryly.
He bumps me with his shoulder.“I have faith in you.Do you want to practice my latest routine with me?”
“I don’t think I’m that coordinated.”I laugh.“Won’t I throw off your timing?”
“It’ll be fun,” he says.
“Famous last words…”
He turns on the song and shows me.“It’s eight counts, so on the eighth count, we start.”
I cannot be in sync for the life of me.I feel like I memorize the choreography, but I can’t put it all together, and my body is always behind my brain.That is, if my body even decides to cooperate and imitate the way he’s moving.Three steps right.Arm up.Arm down.Heart gesture with arms.Kick.Spin.I spin the wrong way and crash into him.
We collapse onto the floor, laughing.We both needed that release.
“You’ll get the choreography eventually,” he says when he finally catches his breath.
Nick takes a photo of us, all joyful, our heads together.
“I don’t have a photo of us,” he says.We take a few more.
“How long have you been dancing?”I ask.
“I took dance lessons in high school.Not because I wanted to, but because my mom wanted to support our neighbor, who taught dance class, and she thought it would be good for all my energy.I played soccer, but I didn’t want to play basketball during the winter.Too many friends jammed their fingers, and I didn’t want to hurt my hand when guitar playing was my priority.And it’s not like we could afford to pay for tennis or some low-contact sport.”
The timer beeps.
As we sit down for dinner across from each other, the candle in the teacup holder flickering, I feel warm and content.
Hope is blossoming inside me that this can last.It’s so easy between us.When he holds my hand, I feel safe and secure and wanted.
But what if his label insists we break up?His dream might be at stake.I need to protect myself and remember that this may not last.He’s got a life ahead of him that’s very different from mine—and our two careers still don’t seem compatible.I can’t be the story.I need to be someone who’s not noticed, who blends in with the crowd.
I also can’t follow him around and attend his concerts.I’m not sure I have enough confidence to listen to all the people doubting our relationship and tearing me down.“She’s trying too hard.”I had looked at a few comments.To be honest, mostly they seemed like unhappy people.
But I also could see why they didn’t think we would last.
“We’re playing a concert on Valentine’s Day, so I can’t spend that evening with you,” Nick says, looking worried.
“That’s okay,” I say.“It’s too expensive to eat out that night anyway, and I like nights like this, eating with you.That’s more important to me.”
“I bought you an early Valentine’s Day gift.”He hands me a wrapped box.
“I don’t have your gift yet…”
“I didn’t expect you have to have one, but I wanted to give you this.”
I unwrap the box, and it’s a pair of sunglasses.Interesting.Is this meant to signal that we’ll still be dating in the summer?
“They’re rearview spy glasses,” he says.“They have a mirror so you can see behind you.”
“That’s so cool.”I put them on, and they work.I practice with Nick standing behind me.I hug him.I’m so happy with this gift.
We go to bed early, as the past few nights are catching up to us.As Nick tucks me into his warm, hard body and his breathing slows, I want to hope that this is the beginning of our life together.
The next morning, Nick’s phone beeps, and he picks it up.His face falls.
