My Fake Husband
A Pitch Perfect Story
Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I don't own anything familiar.
Song Recommendation: U + Ur Hand by Pink
Author's Note: This one is told completely from Beca's POV. The next chapter will have some Jesse's POV. I hope that you enjoy it. Let me know what you think, hate, et cetera. (Please, constructive criticism only, not mean comments.)
"What?" Beca asked, completely shocked. Was she so drunk that she was imagining a guy that she barely tolerated was on his knees in front of her, clutching one of her hands in his, asking her to marry him? Was he so drunk that he didn't seem aware of what he was doing? "What the fuck? Stand up. You look like a total idiot. And, you're drunk." She muttered, turning back to her water after she yanked her hand from his.
"Beca, I'm being like a thousand percent serious right now." Jesse said, his speech still slurred, as he did his best to stand up without falling over. "Like, I am royally fucked if you don't say yes."
"Um, hi, have you met me? We just had a conversation about how I don't believe in marriage and all that bullshit. You told me the first time that I met you that even though I was one of those a cappella girls and you were one of those a cappella boys and that it was inevitable that we were going to have aca-children together, you would never be able to marry me because I don't like movies."
"Yeah, well, our marriage is a perfect excuse for giving your movications, and I will learn to get over your inability to have fun, because I really need your help here."
"Jesse, you don't like me. I don't like you. This would never work."
"That's the beauty of this! It doesn't have to work." Jesse said, laying a hand on Beca's upper arm. She looked down at it, feeling the warmth of it pressed against her bare skin gave her goose bumps. Goose bumps of discomfort and disgust, of course. Fuck, she wished Bumper was letting her have more alcohol. Speaking of which, she glanced to the side of her, looking at Amy and Bumper for help. They were sharing a bowl full of pretzels, watching like she and Jesse were a fucking movie.
"What do you mean?" She asked him, once she looked back over at him, realizing that they would be no help. He squeezed her upper arm slightly, so that his fingertips pressed into her skin a little.
"I mean that once all the paperwork gets approved and we get married, we only have to stay married for two years."
"Two years?" She shook her head; he was beyond insane if he thought she was going to go through with this and be fucking married to him for two years. "Fuck you." She added, in case her tone and the head shake wasn't enough of a no for him.
"C'mon, Beca. It isn't a real marriage at all. You and I are just gonna be glorified roommates. You just got your fancy new condo, but have no furniture to fill it up, right? Well, I have an entire apartment's worth of furniture in a storage unit from when I moved here from New York. My sublet is up in a few weeks, and I need a new place. I will sleep on the fucking couch for two years if it means that you agree to just sign some freaking papers and pretend to be my wife." Jesse squeezed her upper arm again; his expression was pleading. "You can screw whoever you want; you can do whatever you want. We will be nothing but roommates. Please?"
Beca stared at him, considering. Fuck, the alcohol must really be getting to her if she is actually thinking about accepting his offer. She did need furniture, and if they used his furniture, then it would mean she could actually buy clothing. Plus, she would be doing him a massive favor, because even though she didn't exactly like Jesse (he was annoyingly charming, constantly getting under her skin), but she didn't want to see him miserable and have to move back to wherever the hell he was from. Where was he from again? Canada? It's not even like he was from a cool country like New Zealand or Luxemburg or something. He was from fucking Canada; that is so lame. "How does this work exactly?" She asked. She might as well get all of the details. She turned to look at Amy and Bumper, who were a hell of a lot more sober than Jesse was.
"Well, here is the thing," Amy began. "You guys get married and stay married for at least two years. Once the marriage is seen as non-fraudulent and everything works out for Jesse's green card, you file the paperwork that removes the conditional label on the marriage. It could be as simple as both of you filing the specific form, or they might require an interview to make sure everything is valid."
"What does non-fraudulent mean?" Beca asked, biting her lip.
"The marriage would be seen as non-fraudulent if you fill out all of the correct paperwork. Then, there is the evidence of joint assets, which goes beyond living together; that means a joint bank account, both names on a lease agreement, stuff like that. Then, the obvious one: know each other and be able to prove that you know each other. That means pictures of you two together." Amy bit her lip, looking nervous. "If your marriage is seen as fraudulent, that means immediate deportation for Jesse and jail time and a lot of fines for you, Beca."
"Fuck, no way." Beca shook her head, pulling her arm away from Jesse and crossing them. "I'm not risking jail time. We can't prove to the government that we know each other. It is easy enough to fake a joint bank account, because we can say that we decided to open one right before our wedding, and it is easy enough to get him listed on my mortgage payments, but we know next to nothing about each other. Then, there is the whole problem of having no pictures with each other, except for things like Chloe and Dean's parties and wedding and your parties and wedding. Oh, and HE LIVED IN NEW YORK CITY UNTIL RECENTLY!" She said loudly.
"Hey, we can totally fake all of that." Jesse said, grinning.
"How?" She narrowed her eyes at him.
"We had a long distance relationship. There are plenty of pictures of us together at Chloe and Hat's parties, because Chloe was constantly trying to set us up. I don't think there was a single time that I came out here when I didn't somehow wind up sitting next to you at dinner or standing beside you in a photo. As for Amy and Bumper's stuff, you are so much fun to annoy the shit out of, I'm sure there are pictures of us together. Plus, you know as well as I do that there are pictures of us kissing every time that it happened." He grinned at the sour look on her face.
Beca knew that was for sure. They were all over everyone's Facebook pages. Each and every time, they had been drunk. The first time, it was because they were both so completely smashed that she could have been making out with a wall and not even known it—that was the same time that she had wound up puking on his shoes. The second time they had made out was a New Year's Eve party hosted by Bumper and Amy at Tasmania right after they had opened it; they wound up being the only ones in close proximity to each other that were single, so Jesse kissed her. The third and final time they had kissed was when Stacie decided that they should all play spin the bottle at one of Chloe and Dean's parties. Someone always seemed to be taking a picture at those moments, so there was plenty of evidence of her drunken mistakes with Jesse over the years.
"Fine, but we have no pictures of us at each other's apartments or in each other's cities."
"We don't really need any. We could say that we weren't really concerned about documenting the moment when we went to visit each other. Plus, we could totally go around and do some touristy things here in LA, and we can easily hop on a plane for the weekend to do some touristy stuff in New York. Not really in Times' Square, though, because that is always changing depending on the movies or the shows playing, but we can always go to random stores or restaurants and take pictures there; plus, pictures of us on ferry rides or at the Statue of Liberty or something."
"I don't exactly have time to fly to New York for the weekend." Beca pressed a hand to her forehead. Her head was swirling due to the alcohol and the risk of imprisonment. She wasn't in the mood to talk about this anymore.
"I'm just saying that there ways that we can make this work." Jesse said, and she felt like punching him really hard in that moment.
"Look, this is a lot to process right now. I am beyond exhausted and kind of buzzed. I can't make this decision without really thinking over the consequences."
"Okay. You're right. I'm sorry." He made his way back to his stool and put his head down. God, why did he have to make her feel so guilty for saying she needed to think.
"Look, what if you guys said you were together only for a year?" Bumper said casually. Beca glared at him for starting the conversation back up again.
"What do you mean?" Jesse asked.
"Look, we have all of those pictures of you guys together over the years, and you could say that you were into each other and kept trying the long distance thing, but it was too hard. So, after Chloe and Hat's engagement party, you could say that you two decided not see other people, but not be officially a couple once Jesse mentioned that he was interested in moving to LA."
"Oh! That could work!" Amy said, clapping her hands. Beca groaned into her water glass, once again wishing it was a very different clear liquid.
"Yeah, so you guys tried it out, knowing that Jesse was looking for jobs here in LA. He has been flying over here a lot over the last year or so, going to interviews and such. That way, you don't have to show any pictures of you both in New York, but you could change clothes a few times and go around to different sites in LA. Plus, who wants to take pictures of themselves in the same places over and over? You could get away with only having a couple of recent photos. Take a couple of day trips to Disney Land or San Diego or San Francisco and get pictures there. Then, Jesse got a job out here, and he moved here. Just take the pictures of you guys moving into Beca's new condo, like 'yay! We are moving in together!'" Beca whimpered, because this was not what she had in mind when she bought her new place.
"What about our families?" She asked. Jesse looked down at her glass of water, a sad expression suddenly falling on his face.
"I was an only child, and my parents died a few years ago in a car accident. There is no one to tell that I am dating anyone, let alone marrying anyone, aside from my friends." She swallowed, feeling bad for bringing it up.
"Beca, when have you ever talked about your love life with anyone in your family?" Amy scoffed.
"That isn't exactly my favorite topic of discussion with any of them."
"So, you don't have to worry about that then." Beca sighed, because she was right. Everyone seemed to have all the reasons for why it was easy to fake this marriage between her and Jesse.
"Look, I am not that much of a cold-hearted bitch that I don't feel bad for Jesse and his situation, but I don't know if I can pull this off. I am not marriage material. I have been saying that for years now, and none of our friends are going to believe me if I say I woke up one day and realized I was totally in love with Jesse." She rolled her eyes. "Not only that, but I love him enough to marry him? That doesn't make sense. We don't even know each other. Sure, we can fake the whole picture thing, but can we really fake knowing each other?"
"Then, we get to know each other."
Beca let her head fall back, groaning. None of them were going to let her say no. She could understand Jesse pressuring her, because he was the one who was going to be sent back to Canada, but why were Amy and Bumper pressuring her. "I hate you all so much right now."
"I know this huge. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be asking you this. I suck." She nodded her head at him.
"Yes, you do, because you are making me feel like such an asshole for not wanting to fucking get married—something I have never wanted to do." She bit her lip and studied Jesse's face. She hated that he was handsome. She hated that he was charming. She hated that he was confident in himself. She hated that he was nice at times. She hated how idealistic he was. She hated how his annoyingness was actually kind of endearing at times. Most of all, she hated how much she didn't always hate him. He wasn't that bad most of the time. They had a strange relationship. He got on her nerves most of the time, but she couldn't bring herself to every really hate him. "If we supposedly dated for a year, what do we tell our friends?" He grinned, jumping from his stool to make his way over to her. He pulled her into a huge hug, pulling her off her stool to spin her around in circles.
"Thank you!" Jesse yelled, letting her down after the third circle. Beca bit her lip and looked away when she realized how close they were.
"Seriously, what do we tell our friends?" She asked, crossing her arms. "Bumper and Amy can keep our secret, but I have said over and over that I'm not interested in you to Chloe, so we can't exactly expect her to not blow this."
"Tell her that you kept it a secret," Amy suggested. "Tell her that you guys finally hit it off at her engagement party, and you decided to keep it a secret, because you didn't want to want to hear her say 'I told you so.' Plus, you felt weird, because you didn't know if it was going to work out, considering how much a commitment phobe you are. I can list on both hands the number of guys I personally know you have humped and dumped." Amy raised both of her hands, fingers spread wide. "Luke from freshman year. He was a sexy ass British mother fucker who was a bigger player than Stacie's vag, but somehow you hooked him and then destroyed him." She wagged her thumb as she spoke. "Bryan that poor transfer student who joined the Trebles our sophomore year; he didn't know what was coming." She said as she moved her index finger. "Charlie from senior year; the captain of the swim team. If there was ever an appropriate time to use the term penetrate, it would be in relation that boy's junk that was hidden in the tiniest banana hammock in the world." She wagged her ring finger, making Beca roll her eyes at the fact that she skipped her middle finger. "Brent, your sexy co-worker at the Atlanta radio station you worked at. He left his wife for you." All the while, moving her pinky finger as she spoke.
"He wasn't married!" Beca spat, crossing her arms to glare at Amy.
"Then, Carl," Amy said, sticking her middle finger up. "Your boss at WR. You're a slut."
"He wasn't that good in the sack." Beca shrugged. She held up her pinky finger. "It should have been this finger for Carl." She joked, and Amy's head fell back in laughter.
"Who should be the middle finger?" She asked, and Beca pretend to ponder. "Charlie," they both said at the same time, giggling. "And that was just the guys for one hand," Amy wheezed, pressing a hand to her chest.
"Um, should we get you checked out for STDs before we get married or…?" Jesse joked, his eyes flashing. Beca flipped him off and stuck her tongue out at Amy.
"Alright, I am tired. Future Hubby, we are taking a taxi to your apartment. We are too drunk to start the move-in process in my new condo, which has two bedrooms, by the way, so you don't have to crash on the couch. Well, tonight you are crashing on the couch at your apartment, because I get the bed." She stood on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Having fun yet?"
"Bunches." Jesse told her, throwing an arm around her shoulders, leading her towards the exit.
"Oh, Ames, here are my car keys. Can you park my car somewhere safe? I have my records and laptop in the trunk. I will get them from you tomorrow." She said, tossing her keys to the blond.
"Sure thing, Flatbutt."
Beca groaned when she sat up in an unfamiliar bed, pressing a hand to her head. Yeah, she was totally regretting the vodka shots from earlier. She glanced to her right, seeing that it was nearly midnight according to the alarm clock on the ugly beside table. Jesse wasn't kidding when he said the person he was subletting for had the worst taste in interior design. She stood up, rubbing at her face before walking over to the dresser to look at her reflection in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to comb out the tangles. She then rubbed at the smudged makeup beneath her eyes.
Beca felt a little cold, wearing only her black lace camisole over her black thong. Her gray skinny jeans were balled up on the floor by Jesse's bed, along with her bra and flip flops. She didn't feel like putting sweatpants on, so she figured he wouldn't care if she pulled on some of his clothes. She was doing him a massive favor after all. Using the hair elastic on her wrist, she pulled her hair into a messy bun high on her head. Beca then carefully pulled his bottom drawer open, finding only jeans. She pouted, closing the drawer and pulling open the next row, smiling when she found sweatpants and gym shorts. She grabbed a pair of sweatpants and pulled them on, rolling them as much as she could, hoping that they would stay on her hips, but they fell dangerously low on her hips. They were too big. Beca pulled the pants off, folding them and then putting them back where she found them. She tried the gym shorts, and they were equally as huge on her. Either she had to wear her jeans, go around in her underwear (as much fun as it would be to mess with Jesse, she was too cold), or go for his boxers. She opened the top drawer, grinning when she found herself staring at his boxers. Some of them were cheesy (hearts, polka dots, characters), but the rest were either solid or plaid. She grabbed a gray pair, pulling them on, smiling when she discovered that she only had to roll them once to keep them on her hips.
Beca closed the door and walked over to his closet, opening it to find where he kept his flannel shirts, button ups, and his dress shirts. She grabbed a gray and black plaid flannel shirt, pulling it on and only buttoning it halfway. She walked over to his en suite bathroom to pee, wash her face, find some Tylenol, and brush her teeth with her finger, chasing it with a mouthful of mouthwash. When she was done in the bathroom, she left it and walked through his bedroom, opening the door quietly.
Beca snuck down the hallway, popping her head around the corner to see that Jesse was awake and standing in his kitchenette, making coffee. She could kiss him right now, because she needed coffee, and she wasn't actually a coffee person. She walked into the room. "May I get some of that?" She asked him, suppressing a smile when he jumped. Without turning around, he reached into one of his cabinets to grab a second mug.
"Sugar or…shit." He stopped dead when he turned around, eyebrows raised at her dressed in his clothing. She rolled her eyes and walked over to jump onto the counter near where he was preparing the coffee. She tried to ignore the way his eyes followed her.
"Cream, please. Do you have any hot chocolate mix?" Jesse finally snapped back to reality, tearing his gaze from her bare legs.
"Um, yeah," he said, pointing to the cabinet above her. "Um, it's in there." Beca spread her legs a little, trying to hide her amusement at his discomfort. He shook his head, walking between her legs. "Lean over," he muttered, reaching up to open the cabinet when she moved slightly to the side. He leaned into her personal space, taking a lot longer than necessary to grab the hot chocolate mix. His balanced his weight on the free hand that he placed on the counter right beside her thigh, his thumb pressed against her skin.
Beca tried to keep her breathing even, because Jesse was playing just as dirty as she was. She cocked an eyebrow at him when he finally leaned back, taking only one small step back, shutting the cabinet. He held the canister out to her, smirking at her, and she returned it, taking it from his hands. "Thanks." The coffee maker beeped, indicating that the coffee was done, but he didn't move towards the machine. Using the edge of the counter, she pushed herself off, ignoring the way her heart pounded when her body slid down his. She kept telling herself that her boldness was residual from the alcohol earlier in the afternoon.
Beca pushed past Jesse and walked over to where the coffee mugs were. Using a spoon that was sitting in the drying wrack by his sink, she scooped a couple of spoonfuls of the hot chocolate mix into the bottom of one of the coffee mugs. She poured coffee into both mugs, returning the pot to its holder. She felt him brush by her as he walked over to the fridge to pull out the cream. She mixed the hot chocolate into the coffee, using it as a replacement for sugar.
Beca tried to ignore the feel of Jesse's body when he came up behind her, boxing her in so that he could pour some cream into both of their mugs. He stepped back, returning the cream to the fridge. While he was busy, she made her way over to the small table and chairs that he had set up a few feet away. She dropped into an uncomfortable chair, blowing on her drink before taking a small sip. "I can't believe you put hot chocolate mix into my amazing coffee." He said as he sat down beside her, watching her.
"I hate hot coffee. The only way that I can drink it is if I add hot chocolate mix to it." She returned his gaze. "Don't knock it until you try it, Swanson." He shrugged, putting down his mug down on the table and holding his hand out towards hers. "No way."
"Hey, you said I should try it," Jesse said, grinning. He leaned forward, sliding his hand over hers. "Let me try it." Beca narrowed her eyes at him before holding the mug toward him in one hand—the hand that was still under his. Using his hold on her hand, he tilted the mug to take a sip of her hot chocolate-coffee hybrid, his eyes never leaving hers. "Not bad," he said when finished swallowing. He slowly pulled his hand from hers, allowing his fingertips to stroked across her skin. Oh, he was good at this game.
"See? I know what I'm talking about." Beca needed to up her game now. She spied his laptop on his end table. "May I?" She asked as she walked over to it. Jesse shrugged, so she opened it and loaded up the internet. She smiled when she saw that he had Spotify. She opened it and rolled her eyes at his playlists relating to musicals like Les Mis. Nerd. She typed in the search engine the song she was looking for. She could practically feel his eyes boring holes in her butt as she bent over his computer screen.
"What are you playing?" He asked her.
"You'll see." Beca glanced over her shoulder and smiled as the music started. Jesse cocked an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged. She sipped her drink, swaying her hips to the beat. When the chorus began, she began to sing along.
"I'm not here for your entertainment
You don't really wanna mess with me tonight
Just stop and take a second
I was fine before you walked into my life
Cause you know it's over
Before it began
Keep your drink, just gimme the money
It's just you and your hand tonight."
She continued to dance along with the music, swaying her hips in a way that she was sure was seductive, sipping her coffee with her eyes locked on his. Every time the chorus came on, she sang along, smirking as she sang 'it's just you and your hand tonight.' When the song ended, a new Pink song started. He stood up and walked over to her. He took the mug from her hands, setting both his and hers down on the end table beside his laptop.
"That's not what I meant." Jesse said quietly, taking a step forward so that he was crowding her. "What kind of game are you playing here?" He leaned over to let his lips graze her ear. "If you are smart, you'd stop now."
Beca pulled away from him to look him in the eye. "No games." She said quietly. "I'm bored." She smiled at him, stepping back. She grabbed her mug of coffee from where he put it. She held up one hand, using her thumb and index finger to indicate a small amount. "And the tiniest bit still drunk." She looks away from him, hoping that he doesn't see that she is lying. She walked over to his couch and sat down, drinking a couple of big gulps of her coffee.
"I know how I can entertain you." Jesse walked over to his bookshelf filled with DVD cases. Beca groaned, her head falling back onto the couch.
"No!" She pouted when he pulled a case from the shelf and put it in the DVD player.
"I wanna watch you watch all the way to the end of this movie." He held up the empty DVD case to her. It was entitled The Breakfast Club. "Then, I can die a hero." He grinned at her like a child grins at someone who they drew a picture for that is nothing more than a bunch of squiggly lines, waiting for you to respond happily and praise it. She wasn't going to praise it, so she just continued to pout.
"Yeah, you're definitely dying tonight." She muttered as he made his way over to his laptop to turn off the music and to grab his own coffee. Once he sat down on the couch, he handed his mug to her, reaching behind them to grab the throw blanket off the back of the couch. He draped it across their laps and then leaned forward to grab the DVD remote off of the coffee table. After he hit play, he carefully pulled her flush against his side in order to prevent her from spilling their coffees. With one arm draped along the back of the couch above her, he grabbed his coffee from her hands.
Beca had to confess that watching a movie with Jesse was actually kind of fun (Shh! Don't tell him that!), because she spent most of it watching him rather than the movie. He would murmur the lines along with the characters, sing along with the songs playing in the background, tell her random facts about the actors and the director and this person and that person. As it got closer to the ending of the movie, he talked about how this song launched the Simple Mind's success in the US, how stupid Billy Idol was for giving it up, and finally how the song matched the ending of the movie so perfectly, because it was so sad and beautiful. Jesse's fun facts were completely ridiculous and made Beca want to punch him in the face a little. She missed having the mug to play with her hands, but she had finished her drink long ago and set it down on the end table beside his. She really tried to hold back the laugh when she saw him make a fist with Bender. He turned to face her, catching her staring at him.
"You're missing the ending," Jesse said quietly, and she widened her eyes and apologized sarcastically. Beca turned to face the television screen again, but she could feel his eyes on her face. She glanced back over at him, ready to say another sarcastic comment, and it was then that she realized just how close they are sitting next to each other. His face was barely inches from hers, and she could feel his breath mingling with hers, which smells faintly like coffee and tequila. It was a strange combination, but not entirely unpleasant.
Beca tried to not let her discomfort at their closeness show on her face. Jesse's eyes drifted from hers to her lips, and she took a careful breath in, trying to hide how flustered she was. She followed a similar pathway on his face. Shit, he had nice lips. She quickly tore her gaze from his mouth, choosing to focus on his eyes once again. For some reason, she was physically incapable of turning away from him, which would be so much easier. Shit, he caught her looking at his mouth. She took in the slight upward curl of his lips at their corners; he was obviously trying to keep a smile from his face. Jesse's face moved towards her, and her mind was screaming at her body to move. Shit! She didn't mean towards him!
Beca knew that the moment Jesse's lips would touch hers would make things get beyond screwed up and complicated. She wouldn't be able to blame it on alcohol this time. It had been about twelve hours since they had gotten back to his apartment, and they both crashed immediately. Kissing him would make things awkward and complicated and so fucking confusing. This wasn't a real marriage; it was a marriage about helping him stay in the country and her being able to furnish her new home for two years; then, they were going to find some reason to get divorced. The reminder that all of this is fake, that she didn't do real relationships or marriage or anything more than flings, helped wake her up to what was moments from happening. She pulled away from him, jumping up off the couch to put some distance between them before they crossed a line that they shouldn't be crossing. She tried to remain calm when she turned to face him.
"Jesse," Beca began, but he held up his hand, nodding his head.
"I know. Shouldn't have happened," Jesse said, standing up. He grabbed the mugs and started to walk over to the sink. When he placed them there, he walked in the direction of his room, not looking at her. "I'm gonna go shower and change." He disappeared before she even had a chance to respond. Fuck, things were already strained between them, and they hadn't even kissed.
Beca picked up the landline, dialing her boss's work number. When the answering machine picked up, she left a quick message about waking up feeling ill and being unable to make it into work that day. She needed to spend today buying new clothing, checking out the furniture that Jesse had stored, talk to the police to see if they had found any of her stuff, make lists of what she needed to purchase—there was just so much to do. Using Jesse's computer, she signed into her bank account, seeing how much she had in her checking account and transferring some of the little bit of money she had left in her savings in order to buy new clothing. She opened a blank word document to begin typing up a list of clothing that she needed to buy.
"What are you doing?" Jesse asked as he made his way back into the living room, catching Beca on his computer.
"Checking out your internet history. So many porn sites, so little time." She responded, not looking up from where she was typing. She felt the couch dip beside her when he sat down, looking over her shoulder at the blank document.
"Bras, panties, socks, camisoles, tank tops…" He muttered as he read her list. "What's this?"
"All of my stuff was stolen," she said, finally looking up. She took in the fact that he was wearing the same pair of sweatpants she attempted to wear earlier and a black t-shirt. His hair was damp and sticking up in random directions, and he smelled like soap. "The only possessions left to my name are the pair of jeans, the flip flops, and the bra currently residing on your bedroom floor, the two articles of clothing of mine that I am wearing under yours, my cell phone, my car, and what's in my car."
"Shit, seriously? I mean, I know that you said that the moving truck was stolen, but I guess I didn't really think about what all that meant."
"Yeah, I have one bra, one thong, one camisole, one pair of jeans, one pair of flip flops, one hair tie, and one car in which I have three boxes of records and my laptop and mixing equipment stored in the trunk. Oh, and thankfully my wallet and cell phone that are in said jeans."
"Well, I have some money in savings, so if you need—" She shook her head, cutting him off.
"No way, Swanson," she told him. "I'm not taking your money."
"Well, Beca, you need clothing to wear. If this was a real marriage—scratch that, even thought it isn't a real marriage—I would totally be for you walking around naked all of the time, and if you did have to wear clothing, mine, but that isn't possible so…you need clothes." The serious expression on his face made her laugh.
"Oh, good, that was something I wanted to talk to you about. I am a firm believer in walking around my house naked all the time, so I am glad to hear you wouldn't be opposed to that." She said as seriously as she could.
"Nope, totally not." He smirked.
"So, you wouldn't mind if I started now?" She moved the laptop to the couch cushion beside her and stood up, quickly undoing the buttons of his flannel shirt and sliding it off her shoulders. She dropped it into his lap and then proceeded to slide his boxer shorts down. She stepped out of them and grinned when she saw him gulp.
"Beca…" Jesse muttered when he saw her skim her fingers along the hem of her shirt, inching it up slightly so that skin of her stomach was revealed. Beca grinned when she saw him squeeze his hands into fists. "You still bored?" She was surprised to see that his voice had deepened by an octave, and his eyes were combing up and down her form. Okay, so maybe she took it a little far.
"Alright, I'm done." She bending over to pull his boxers back onto her hips. She heard his sigh of relief (disappointment?).
"You're mean," he told her as he held the flannel shirt out to her. "I'm giving you money, because I don't think I can handle this anymore." He waved his hand at her, making her smirk. "Besides, I have money from my parents' life insurance, the sale of their house, et cetera. As the only child, I was their sole beneficiary."
"I'm not taking your inheritance, Jesse."
"Look, you are gonna have every right to it after we get married anyways."
"No, I don't. Look, we both keep our separate bank accounts and then open a joint savings account. Then, we each take a small portion of our paychecks and put it in the joint account. We can say that is our rainy day account—a pipe bursts, a fire. Plus, we can say that is the account we will use when we go on vacations, all that coupley stuff. We keep our separate accounts otherwise, and I am going to be honest in that interview when I say that it is for the event that we divorce, I want to have money saved up. Aubrey's a lawyer. We can have her write our prenup that says you keep your inheritance and I get the house in the event that we divorce. Then, whatever money we have in the joint account, we will divide evenly."
"Becs," Jesse said as he grabbed her hand, interlacing their fingers. "Thank you for all of this."
"It's no big deal." Beca bit her lip. She squeezed his hand when he tried to pull his away from hers. She picked up the landline where she had left it on the coffee table. His brow furrowed when he saw her begin to dial on it. She pressed it against her ear, chewing on her bottom lip. The person on the other line picked up, and she took a deep breath. "Dad, hi."
"Beca, this is early for you. It's nearly seven here, which means it is about four there?"
"Yeah, something like that. Listen; there is something I need to talk to you about."
"Oh, god. Are you pregnant?" Beca's jaw dropped open.
"No! Are you kidding me?! Do I look like the type to get knocked up?" She glared at Jesse who was silently chuckling beside her, digging her nails into the back of his hand.
"Good. I would really hate to have to tell people that my daughter got pregnant out of wedlock. Speaking of pregnancies, did you know Mia's pregnant? About four months."
"No, Dad, I wasn't aware that Mia was pregnant. Pass along my well wishes to my beloved step-sister and the dick that she's married to."
"Beca! Don't talk about Mia like that! She's a sweetheart; I just don't understand why you have to say such horrible things about her and Tom. They are such good people." Her dad went on and on about how horrible she was in comparison to her bubbly, pretty blond younger step-sister and her perfect husband. Okay, so maybe her dad didn't say she was horrible, but he definitely implied that he thought the moon was hung by Mia and Tom.
"Dad, I honestly don't give a shit about Mia, her husband, or their spawn. Can we please focus on the reason why I am calling you?" Beca tried to release Jesse's hand, wanting to put up the walls, because there are reasons why she had trust issues, but he wouldn't let her hand go. She could feel him staring at her, rubbing the back of her thumb with his.
"What is it now? Did you get fired? I told you that it isn't a stable position. You should have majored in business or something like I told you to."
"No, Dad! I am really good at my job. I didn't get fired. Fuck, can you just stop berating me for five fucking seconds and let me talk? I was just calling to let you know that I am fucking engaged, but I don't know why I even bother." She spat into the phone, not even realizing she was gripping Jesse's hand like a vice until grunted and let out a deep breath. "Sorry," she said, easing her hold on his hand.
"You're engaged?" Her dad gasped. "You?"
"Yes, I am getting married."
"I didn't even know you were dating anyone."
"Yeah, well, have we ever talked about my romantic life ever? No, we talk about how happy you are with Sheila, the reason for your abandonment of me and Mom. We talk about how spectacularly happy Mia is with Tom. You have never once asked me about my relationships."
"Do you even have relationships?"
"Wow, Dad, thanks for making me feel like a huge slut." She hung up the phone, slamming it on the coffee table. "God, he is such a fucking asshole! Did you know that he forced me to go to Barden? I wanted move here immediately after high school, but he made me go to Barden, because he taught there. He talked to all of my professors, finding out whether I was going to classes, if I was failing, et cetera. He threw his relationship with Sheila in my face over and over. Fuck, I hate him!"
Beca felt the tears burn in her eyes, and she pressed a hand over them, as if that would keep them from slipping down her cheeks. She didn't cry in front of people. She sure as hell didn't want to cry in front of Jesse. "Beca," he pulled her against her chest, wrapping his arms around her. She clamped her eyes shut, gripping his shirt in both fists. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair.
"I'm sorry!" She pulled away from him to look him in the face. "I just went on and on about how awful my father is in front of you, but you don't even have your dad anymore, and I am being such a bitch."
"My dad was great, Beca. I miss him every day, because he was such a good person, and he loved my mom a lot, but you're dad is a dick. I'm sorry that you're hurting because your dad is a dick. It hurts me to see you upset, not because it reminds me that I don't have a dad." He raised one hand to lay it on her cheek. He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "So, you told your dad that we're getting married…" He said when he pulled back, looking into her eyes.
"Yeah, well, he and Sheila are loaded, so I was hoping that he would pay for it." She muttered, and he chuckled, pulling her back against his chest.
"Let's just forget all about that shit for awhile and take a nap. I'm exhausted." She nodded her head.
Jesse readjusted himself so that he was leaning back, with his legs tucked onto the couch beside him. Beca settled into his side, closing her eyes. He laid the blanket over their laps. This had been possibly the strangest day of her life, and it wasn't even over yet. They both had so much to figure out, but she was too tired to even think straight anymore. Maybe a nap would help make everything clearer.