Chapter 16 #2
After the drag show finishes, I swing by the bar to deposit some of our empty glasses and then I go to the bathroom.
For a dive bar, it’s honestly pretty clean in there, and I take a few extra minutes to freshen up my lipstick and fluff my hair.
I’m still getting used to the short bob, but I’m finding ways to make it feel like me.
I’ve been using a curling wand and rollers to make it bouncy and dramatic.
I step out of the ladies room and come face to face with Jonah.
“Oh, hi,” I say. “What’s up?”
“I saw two drunk guys head towards the bathrooms as soon as you went, and I wanted to make sure you were okay and that they didn’t bother you. They left already.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. Like it’s completely normal for him to watch out for me like this.
“I don’t need your protection, you know,” I say, wincing internally at how harsh the words come out. But I can’t tell what his protection means, and I have trouble trusting people who might try and control me. “I could have handled them on my own.”
“Sure, but you shouldn’t have to,” Jonah says easily.
“But I could have,” I insist. “I have a lot of experience with men who think they’re entitled to my time. I have a tried and true method of getting them to leave me be.”
“A method?” Jonah quirks a brow at me, and leans back against the hallway wall.
“Yes. I act real nice to them, giving them a smile just like this.” I smile at him, all sweet and innocent.
“I give them the time of day for a few moments, make them think I actually like them. It strokes their ego and softens ‘em up. And then I tell them that I’d love to keep chatting but my boyfriend is waiting for me. Or father. Either works. That’s my method. What’s yours?”
Jonah levels me with a glare that turns his eyes cold and nearly cruel, and then crosses his arms. His muscles bulge around the edge of his t-shirt sleeves, and his tattoos give him a distinct edge. “This,” he says simply.
“I’ll have to try that one some time.” I try and give him my best badass, don’t-fuck-with-me glare back, but I can tell it’s not working.
His mouth hitches up at the sides, like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Don’t laugh! I could kill someone with this stare,” I joke. I try even harder, furrowing my brow.
“You look like one of those dogs with the squished in faces.”
“I do not!” I cover my face with my hands, suddenly worried that I look…
well, ugly. I’ve spent years smiling on stage and angling my face just so for photographs.
My mom even insisted I spoke in a certain way when we filmed video content or ads for my social media pages.
One time, I was doing a get ready with me video and she had me redo it six times because I kept puffing my cheeks out weirdly when I talked.
Looking less than perfect has historically left me wide open to hurt and humiliation. I don’t want Jonah to see me like this.
Gentle, calloused hands cup over mine, and then Jonah is tugging my hands away from my face. “Hey,” he says. “Pugs are really cute. I love their squished in faces.”
Somehow, it’s the perfect thing to say. My embarrassment drains out of me, and I feel silly for even worrying.
“Thanks,” I say, gazing up at him. This is the second time in two days that we’ve been this close. First there was yesterday in the kitchen, when he gently wiped my face with the kitchen towel. And now this. “This is good practice,” I blurt out. “For tomorrow, I mean.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
For the first time, I notice that Jonah’s eyes are a mossy green-brown, shot through with flecks of yellow. They remind me of the colors of the woods when the leaves are just starting to turn in the fall.
“We’ll probably have to kiss,” Jonah says.
“What? Why?” I ask, reeling back a bit. But his grip on my hands stays gentle but firm, anchoring me.
“Because it’s a wedding. And we’re trying to keep things from looking too suspicious.
For your parents, but honestly, it would help me out as well if this thing looked real.
My parents are going to be confused as to why I got married without telling them, and they’re going to be even more shocked when they find out I paid off the hospital bill. ”
“I’m sorry,” I say, suddenly feeling guilt gnawing through me. “I roped you into this without thinking about how it might impact your relationship with your family.”
“Hey, I agreed of my own free will.”
“Well, I’m happy to kiss you if that will make things seem more real. But won’t the court house be pretty private?”
Jonah shakes his head. “The courthouse serves a few of the small towns around here, and everyone knows everyone, or knows someone who knows you. Hell, I’m pretty sure the judge knows my dad. Even if we went super early, we can’t guarantee that no one will be around.”
“Right. Small towns and all that.” I don’t mention the P.I. I’m pretty sure my parents have hired, but I’m willing to bet that they’ll follow us there. “Maybe we should practice, then,” I continue. “Kissing, I mean. So we look believable.”