A soft drizzle pattered against the window. Emelia watched from the passenger seat as little droplets of water slid down the glass and disappeared into oblivion, one after the next in a rhythmic, trance-like pattern.

“You’re quiet,” Grant mentioned, slicing through the silence between them on the ride back to their suburban ranch home on the outskirts of Chicago. Since the band had played their first gig right here in Chicago, Emelia was glad for the chance to spend one more night in her own home before they left for Philadelphia tomorrow.

Emelia turned to look at him. His face was partially hidden in shadows as the tree lined streets became rushed by.

“I guess.” She wasn’t sure how to respond. One moment, she had been pumped with adrenaline after Infinity’s first, knockout performance. The next, she had been backed into a corner by Trevor, and the whole thing left a bitter taste in her mouth. Grant hadn’t been quiet himself, though the tension he had been carrying all night had faded.

Grant shrugged and sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than before. “It just seems like you are mad or something.”

Emelia frowned. “I’m not mad at you.” She shot him a feeble attempt at a smile, but she wasn’t sure if it would be a convincing enough gesture of reassurance for him. He was a hard one to satisfy.

“Are you sure?” He pressed with raised eyebrows.

“Why are you so paranoid all of a sudden?”

He was quiet for a moment. “It seemed like you wanted to stay at the party and I made you leave,” he said in a hushed voice as if he were afraid of admitting his fears out loud.

Emelia shifted her weight against the seat. “Just for the record, nobody forces me to do anything I don’t want to. If I had wanted to take pics of the band at Pour Kingdom, believe me, I would have.”

She watched Grant’s grimace in reaction but thankfully, he kept his mouth shut. She wasn’t in the mood for a petty argument. No, she felt hollow inside. Disappointed by Trevor’s attitude.

The headlights of the car lit up the red brick front of their home.

“Home sweet home,” Emelia breathed as she leaned down to grab her purse with one hand and clutched the passenger door handle with the other.

“Wait a second.” Grant stopped her by gripping onto her knee and holding her so tightly that her skin turned white from where his fingers pressed into her.

“Hey,” she shouted, giving him a firm, angry stare. “What the hell, Grant? You are hurting me. Let go.”

He immediately shot his hand back to his own lap as if her skin was on fire and burned him to the touch. “Sorry. I didn’t uh...mean...”

“What’s gotten into you lately?” She interrupted. She narrowed her eyes and inspected him.

“Nothing.” He shook his head.

“Well knock it off. I’m not a fan of whatever this is.”

“I don’t mean to upset you.” Grant peered up at her with sad, puppy dog eyes. “I’ve just been stressed out lately, trying to get ready for the tour and everything.”

Emelia relaxed her shoulders and softened her demeanor. “Then why didn’t you just say that in the first place? The key to a good relationship is open communication.”

Grant snorted. “What are you, my therapist?”

“Okay, whatever.” Emelia pushed the car door open and made a move towards exiting the vehicle. His attitude was the last straw. She didn’t want to be around him if he was just going to act like a jerk. She’d had enough of that tonight.

“I’m sorry.” Grant pulled her back gently by the edge of her skirt. “It was just a joke.”

Emelia gave him a sour look. “No. Not really.”

He leaned his head back against the headrest and blew out a sigh, staring straight ahead. The car was still running, the engine running at a low hum. The windshield wipers softly swayed back and forth every few seconds, washing the rain off with a squeaky sound as it moved against the glass.

“I just want you to be happy,” he whispered.

“I am happy,” she countered.

He gave her a look as if to say he didn’t believe her, but that he had no choice but to take her word for it.

“You wanted to stay there. With Trevor.”

“Grant!” Emelia, she clenched her eyes. “Come on. It’s too late to fight.”

“I don’t want to fight,” Grant argued. “I wanted you to be able to celebrate with the band.”

“Then why didn’t we both go for one beer? I could have taken their pics, and you could have enjoyed yourself.”

Grant laughed as he continued to avoid eye contact with her and gazed out the window as if he were in some kind of trance.

“I don’t trust them,” he said sourly.

“Trust who?” Emelia shook her head in confusion.

“Any guy in that band.” He chuckled ironically.

“What are you so scared of?” Emelia pressed. He had already mentioned Trevor, and honestly, he wasn’t wrong for being a little skeptical, jealous even. She had conflicted feelings about the frontman herself.

She glanced at the moon from out Grant’s window. It was beautifully full now. She was exhausted, but she knew that it was no use in going inside until Grant got whatever was eating him up out of his system.

Grant smirked at her. “You can’t tell me you are that naïve?”

“You are not making any sense,” she hissed, growing increasingly irritated with his vagueness.

“All they want are tits and beer!” He shouted as if he were proclaiming law in a courtroom setting. He threw his hands up.

“Are you kidding?”

“Fame gets to people’s heads,” Grant said scornfully.

Emelia hesitated. “Are you...jealous of them? Worried that I’m going to step out on you?”

“Maybe.” His face grew angry. “Yes. Yes, I am. How do I know they won’t try anything on you?”

Emelia swallowed hard. She thought of how Trevor had picked her up and spun her around tonight. How much she had loved the feeling of his arms around her body.

She crossed her arms over her chest as if to hold the guilt inside. “It sounds like I’m the one you don’t trust.”

Silence passed between them, though the anger rolling off Grant was enough to fill the space.

“Grant?” Emelia leaned in closer to her boyfriend, hoping she could stave off a further argument. She should just give him the benefit of the doubt. If the tables were turned, she would have just been as jealous as he was. 

“Come on Grant,” she said and squeezed his hand, aiming for a truce before bed. “It’s getting late. Let’s go inside and get some sleep.”

“Sure.” He turned off the engine and stepped out of the car.

Emelia sighed. She was proud of herself for managing to sidestep a land mine, at least for tonight.

“Just so you know,” she mentioned after the fact as they walked inside and out of the rain. “I wanted to go with you.”

“You did?” Surprise flashed across Grant’s face, and his eyes lit up.

“Yep.” She nodded with a smile. “You’re my boyfriend. Of course, I want to be with you.” Even if Trevor’s face wouldn’t get out of her head. “Plus, we have too much to do tomorrow to have hangovers.”

Grant laughed as he wandered over to the fridge to grab a water bottle from the inside door. “Tell me about it.” Those guys are going to be sorry tomorrow.”

Emelia glanced at a magnet on the fridge in the shape of a lobster. The keepsake had been a souvenir they’d brought back after a trip to Maine last summer to visit his parents. Next to it was a picture of her and Grant at a concert for a band he had been hired on with the previous summer. Grant was beaming, grinning from ear to ear. His arms were wrapped around Emelia, squeezing her tight with affection while the band played behind them.

Maybe her life with Grant wasn’t so bad after all. Sure, he had gotten a little rough around the edges at the party tonight. Perhaps they were just hitting a little rough patch or something. He wasn’t a bad guy and had always treated her with respect. She needed to give him a chance and work through his inner demons, and she needed to work through the guilt over seeing Trevor’s handsome face every time she closed her eyes.

“You did us both a favor,” she croaked. Her voice sounded scratchy and throaty at this late hour. She really couldn’t wait to collapse onto the pillow and instantly fall asleep.

“What do you mean?” Grant planted his elbows against the counter and leaned over. He stretched across the way to plant a kiss on her lips.

“Instead of partying until dawn, we get to crawl into bed and cuddle.”

Grant laughed and drummed his fingertips against the counter. “How old are we?”

Emelia couldn’t help it. She laughed too. “Older than twenty-five, apparently. Come on.” She walked around the side of the bar counter and patted Grant on the arm. It would be dawn soon. “Let’s get to bed.”

If she could manage to drift off to dreamland without her mind skirting back to Trevor’s handsome smile, she just might be able to drift off. She had a peculiar gift for blending dreams with reality, but she didn’t want to walk through that door.

Not yet.