So I Married a Rockstar

Chapter Twenty

Ch.20: The First Time

The loft had never felt more like home. As the front door swung shut, blocking out the world and all the shit that came with it, I let out a long sigh of relief.

Yeah, I had to go back to The Swallow tomorrow, but for now I was free.

Dumping my bag on the floor, I walked into the kitchen, and my heart gave a massive stutter in my chest.

Jude stood behind the counter, mixing up a gin and tonic that I instinctively knew was for me. He looked up and grinned, and it felt like standing in a ray of sunshine after seeing nothing but clouds all day.

"I thought you'd be at the studio until late," I said.

I'd fully expected to come home to an empty loft, and maybe not even see Jude until tomorrow morning, but he was here, he was here.

Jude gave my drink a final stir. "I thought you might want to talk about your day."

A hard lump rose in my throat.

We'd been married for just six days and already I felt more connected to this man than I had in an entire year with Jake.

"How did it go?" Jude asked, sliding the gin across the counter to me.

I'd meant to downplay everything, but my eyes filled with tears and my resolve crumbled to dust. "It really fucking sucked," I said.

Jude's face darkened. He pulled me into his arms, and I clung to him, breathing in the smell of his clothes and his skin, my hand splayed over his heart. The warm familiarity of him made me feel grounded and safe in a way that I hadn't since I left the loft this morning.

"Uh, Camden?" Jude said.

"Yeah?"

"Why do you smell like coffee?"

I pressed myself harder against him while I told him what had happened. Jude stiffened.

"What the fuck? Did someone call the police?"

"He ran off. I didn't even get a look at his face," I said.

"Bastard," Jude growled.

He held me in silence for a few moments, his hands stroking up and down my back.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he said, his voice soft against my hair.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to stay."

It was my turn to stiffen. My hand had been splayed over his heart for comfort; now it pushed him away from me.

"Is this your way of telling me to leave?" I said.

"No," Jude said. "But if this gets too much for you, I'll understand."

I snatched the gin he'd poured me, drained it in one, and slammed the glass on the counter. The fear and pressure and anxiety that had gnawed at me all day hardened into a ball of rage.

"You know what this feels like? It feels like you want me to go but you don't have the balls to outright say it," I snapped.

Jude didn't exactly roll his eyes, but it was close enough that it made my anger surge.

"For fuck's sake, Jude. If you've changed your mind, just tell me," I cried, my throat raw with emotion. "If you don't want me here anymore, that's fine, I'll pack my shit and leave. But at least say it to my face instead of trying to convince me that it's my idea."

"That's not what I'm doing," Jude said, but he didn't look at me.

"Have you changed your mind?" I demanded.