What Do You Mean?

Chapter 4

"B...holy shit!" my voice is raspy from sleep, and fails to convey any of the shock I'm feeling.

She reaches behind her and secures the clasps of a lacy, plum colored bra. I've never seen it before, but that's nothing new. She owns more lingerie than anyone on earth. Not that I'm complaining.

"I know. It looks like someone literally beat the hell out of me."

"Tell everyone you got into a fist fight because some chick was looking at me. You'll look bad ass." I joke, before becoming serious "Come here baby, I'm sorry. I feel like a dick...you look terrible."

"Shut up..." she smiles, bending down to kiss me and smooth a few strands of my bedhead. "I loved every second of it, I wanted it, it doesn't even hurt and besides..." she pulls the covers down a little "You don't look so great yourself."

"Damn, what the fuck?" I run my hands over my scratched up chest and poke at a couple of the visible bruises "I need to hire more security with you around."

With a jerk of her hand she sends the covers flying back over my head "I hate you."

I peek out "Hate you too, baby. Are you coming to rehearsals with me today? I missed you yesterday."

"Yeah, I'm coming. Betty's going to keep Lyric, though. I don't want her bugging everyone while they're trying to work. Hey, speaking of...think we should tell Betty? Or should we wait?"

"I don't know." I shrug, grabbing my phone to check for missed calls and messages. "What do you think?"

"I'm worried..."

"Big surprise..."

"No seriously, what if she doesn't want watch over two kids? What if she quits? We'd have to find someone new and we can't trust anyone the way we trust her. Oh my god..." she sighs, disappearing into the walk-in closet.

"It's fine, B..." I call out "Betty is gonna be happy as hell. If you need something to worry about, worry about how you're gonna make that  bitten up neck of yours look presentable."

Her head pops out "Already figured that out. I'm just gonna tell everyone you got all abusive because I beat you at ping pong or something."

"You're an idiot..." I laugh, throwing a pillow in her direction "No one would ever believe that anyway. Like you could ever beat me at ping pong."

"Oh you're real cute." She rolls her eyes and goes back to figuring out what to wear.

"Hey...come here a minute, b."

She smiles when I hold back the covers and curl my finger to call her over "Come let me baby you for a minute, I feel bad."

"I already told you, J...I'm fine."

"Would you just shut up and come here? You know I'm gonna get my way, save us some time."

She glances at the ceiling, pretending to be frustrated, but slides in beside me seconds later.

I roll onto my side and begin placing soft, innocent kisses over the marks on her neck. "You're so beautiful, and I fucked you all up. It's like I drew all over the Mona Lisa or some shit."

"I bet that's the first time ever that the Mona Lisa and 'or some shit' has been used in the same sentence." She laughs, poking at my stomach.

"Seriously, baby girl...I'm sorry." I circle a tiny bruise on her shoulder "It looks like it hurts."

Her palm sweeps over a row of scratches her fingernails left on my chest "Do these hurt."

I shake my head.