But first, I’m gonna tell Evah that it’s safer if she closes her curtains at night.
I’m sipping my morning coffee when Harley makes an appearance in the kitchen.
He looks his usual self, all bright-eyed and annoyingly handsome.
“Long night?” I try not to smirk behind my coffee cup.
“Not particularly.” Harley freezes. “Well, I mean, apart from, like, the usual.”
“The usual,” I murmur. “Must’ve been up most of the night. You look like you got no sleep.”
He actually looks amazing in sweats and no shirt, but I’m not gonna say that.
As if sensing what I’m implying, he nods. “Oh. Right. Yeah, we didn’t sleep much.”
“Lucky you’ve got nothing to do today but write, then, I guess.”
“Right.” Harley pours himself a cup of coffee and takes a tub of yogurt out of the fridge.
“If I didn’t say it last night, you and Evah make the perfect couple.”
His eyes narrow. “Okay. Umm, thanks.”
“When are you getting married?” My tone is upbeat, even by Iris’s standards.
Harley scoops a giant spoon of yogurt into his mouth. “Soon.” It comes out “thoon.”
“Oh, so there’s a date set?”
“Well, uh, no. Our schedules are super busy right now, so …”
“All you’re doing is writing, and now that her launch is over, she should have plenty of time. I’m surprised she isn’t all bridezilla after eighteen months of being engaged.”
“You’ve been reading shit on the internet again,” Harley mumbles.
“Maybe. I’m just wondering what’s keeping you lovebirds from tying the knot.”
“Busy schedules. Like I said. I need to get this next album out.”
“You just came off a tour. You’ll produce another album and then go on tour again. Isn’t that how these things work? So, wouldn’t now be the perfect time for a wedding?”
“You’re weird today. I’m going to get to work. I need to write at least one usable song.” Harley makes his way toward the sitting room.
“Iris should be here soon, and I’ll head out as soon as he gets here.”
He turns back. “What are you doing on your day off?”
“The same thing I did last week.”
“You didn’t tell me what you did last week.”
I wink. “I know.”
Just like Harley is keeping something huge from me, my extracurricular activities are none of his business.
Maybe this trust thing needs to go both ways, but I haven’t told anyone about my situation, and I don’t plan to.
Guess I shouldn’t push for him to confide in me when I have no intention of letting him in on my burden. Though I could argue as his bodyguard, I need to know things about him in order to protect him better. He doesn’t need to know shit about my life.
Iris arrives as I grab my wallet, keys, and phone from my room.
“Ooh, are we writing more songs today?” Iris throws himself on the floor next to Harley.
“Have a fun day,” I say on my way out.
Before I leave, I hear Iris say, “You know what rhymes with cutie? Booty. You should put some booty in there.”
Harley’s mumbling can be heard from the front door. “Today’s going to be a long day.”
Yeah, for him and me both.
The hour-and-a-half trip out to San Bernardino is far enough away to make the sickly churning feeling in my gut settle. It’s enough time to put my happy face on and keep my emotions in check.
This is the one place I hate coming to but can’t blow off. Especially now that my visits are down to once a week.
They’ve always been sporadic, but when I’ve been home from ops, I’ve been able to get out here more often.
Now, it feels like it’s not enough.
He understands, though.
I park the car in the lot of the Nevaeh Care Facility, a depressing place if I ever saw one.
The outside is as gloomy as the inside, with no gardens or frills. Just a plain, dark gray building with white trim.
Inside smells like chemicals—the kind you need to disguise the scent of death—and I hate that this is the best I can afford.
Maybe one day soon when my debts are paid, I can pay to move him somewhere better. I need a year or two. Maybe less if this Harley gig becomes permanent. It’s not a job I wanted to do long term initially, but it’s easy, Harley’s surprisingly less of a diva than I was expecting, and after another six months at it, my debts will be almost completely wiped.