My Fake Husband
A Pitch Perfect Story
Chapter 3
Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.
Author's Note: Correction to the last two chapters: Chloe and Hat got engaged when they were together for 3.5 years; the spin the bottle incident came before the New Year's incident. Bumper and Amy wouldn't have opened up the restaurant together after only being together for about a year, but closer to two years together would make more sense. Sorry!
After work later that day, Jesse parked in the driveway of Beca's (soon to be their) condo. She had texted him that she was there painting, so he decided to come by to help her. After she had checked his furniture out, she had admitted that he had nice taste, but now the condo had to be repainted to match his furniture. So, she went to Home Depot and bought a bunch of paint, paintbrushes—the whole shebang to paint the condo. Using the second key that she had made for him and left under a rock near the front steps, he entered the house and walked inside the door, glancing around to see which room she was in. She wasn't on the first floor, so he figured that she was either painting her bedroom (the master bedroom, of course) or the guest room (read: his room).
After dropping off his stuff by the door and relocking it, Jesse walked up the steps, expecting to hear music coming from whichever room she was working on, but instead he heard the distinct sounds of a telephone conversation—one that was on speaker. He walked down the hall to stand in the doorway of her bedroom. Beca was dressed in a pair of skin-tight shorts that were essentially glorified underwear and a sports bra, with her hair in a messy bun. Fuck, her body was phenomenal. He kind of hated her for it, because she seemed to take pleasure in wearing revealing clothing (or his clothing) that would make his pulse race, which sucked since she was crashing at his apartment until the condo was ready. He had no way to escape her other than to leave his apartment. He assumed that this meant she went shopping for at least a few outfits for the next few days until she could spend an entire day getting all of the clothing she needed to replace what was lost. Her feet were bare, and there were paint droplets on her feet, legs, and arms, and likely her stomach and the front of her clothing, but he was only seeing her from behind.
"I just can't believe it, Beca." A female voice came through the phone. "Have I not taught you anything?"
"Mom, I didn't tell you just to hear you tell me how wrong I am to do it." Beca responded as she dipped the paint roller into the tin of green paint on the floor beside her. She began pushing it against the wall, giving it a second coat of paint. "I told you, because it what normal people do. They tell their family members when they are getting married."
"Beca, think about this for a second. Do you really want to marry this guy? Do you know anything about him? You never even mentioned to me that you were dating someone, let alone in a relationship." Beca's mom said, her voice echoing through the room.
"Jesse and I have known each other for three years, Mom." Beca responded, dipping more paint to work on the next bare section. "I never told you that I was seeing him, because I knew you would react like this. Do you remember what you told me when I was fifteen and told you that a boy asked me to be his girlfriend?" No sound came from the phone, so she continued talking. "Normal mothers would say, 'that is great, sweetie; tell me about him,' or they would say 'aren't you a little young for a boyfriend?' You told me that having a boyfriend is overrated, that it leads to nothing but heartache, and after your marriage to Dad, you finally realized that the only thing that guys seem to care about is sex. You then proceeded to tell me that it is time that I take ownership of my body, told me that you would put me on birth control, and then said I should take a page out of the male handbook and use them solely for sex."
Jesse's eyebrows rose, because everything about Beca suddenly made sense. Her dad was a royal dick, cheating on her mom and leaving both of them for Sheila, the step-mother. Not only that, but he seemed to constantly compare her to her younger stepsister, who he seemed to think represented what the perfect daughter looked like. Beca's mom, on the other hand, turned her against relationships and romance, because she was hurting over her broken marriage and the betrayal of her husband.
"Sweetie, I was just telling you that to warn you."
"But, Mom, I was fifteen. I didn't need to be warned. He was the son of a minister who vowed that he wouldn't be losing his virginity before he got married. I think my heart was going to be safe with him. Besides, I wasn't looking to get married at fifteen. I just wanted to have a fucking boyfriend. I turned him down, because you told me that I should do that." Beca snapped, pressing hard on the wall with the paint roller. Jesse figured that he should probably make his presence known soon.
"Beca, isn't he the boy that got that girl pregnant your junior year?"
"That is beside the point!"
"Um, actually, I think that confirms by point." Beca groaned.
"Mom, I was so heartbroken over turning him down and seeing him with another girl that I was stupid. I got drunk and lost my virginity to a guy at a party. I don't even know his fucking name. Just because you told me guys want nothing more than sex from girls, and that that is how I should live my life."
"Well, honey, I'm sorry that you hate me so much for telling you not to be in a relationship."
"I don't hate you, Mom! I am just trying to explain to you why I haven't talked to you about people I have sex with or go on a date with or anything like that since I was fifteen."
"So, you are really going to go through it? You are going to get married? Fine, you love this guy. Fine, you want to share your life with him, but do you have to marry him? Do you have to tie yourself to him? What if he stomps all over your heart? What if he leaves you for a younger woman? What if he gets you pregnant and then decides that he wants another man's wife and daughter?"
"Jesse isn't Dad, Mom." Beca whispered. Jesse watched her deflate, dropping the paint roller on the tarp that she had lying on the floor to protect it from wet paint. It made a strange sound when it hit the floor.
"What was that?"
"I dropped the paint brush."
"Oh, why are you painting? Didn't the apartment actually come painted close enough to match your furniture when you got it?"
"It is a condo, Mom. And, I am repainting it, because my stuff got stolen, and Jesse is moving in."
"Oh, you can't be serious, Beca."
"Mom, we are getting married! Generally, married couples live in the same house."
"Do you really want to get married, Beca?" Jesse decided it was definitely time to make his presence known. He snuck back down the hallway and halfway down the steps.
"Hey, Becs, where you at?" He called up the steps as he made a little more noise as walked back up.
"In my—the bedroom!" He heard her call back to him. He walked down the hallway, seeing her pressing her phone against her ear as she smoothed a lock of hair from her eyes. "Mom, I gotta go. Jesse's here. He is going to help me paint." She was quiet for a few moments, and she turned away, not wanting to look at him. "No, Mom, I don't need or expect you to pay for the wedding. Dad and Sheila called me this morning to tell me that they will pay for my wedding, because they want to actually see if I go through with it."
Jesse frowned, really wanting to punch Beca's father in the face. He entered the bedroom, pulling off his sweater, dropping it on the floor beside her laptop in the center of the room, kicking off his shoes and socks as well. He undid his belt and pulled his jeans off, leaving himself in his boxers and a white t-shirt. He walked over to where she had dropped the paint roller. He picked it up and began painting the wall, listening to the one-sided conversation between Beca and her mom.
"Mom, stop. I'm marrying him. I'm letting Dad and Sheila pay for the wedding, because I don't want to have to. If they want to have some big, bullshit party and pay a ridiculous amount of money for it, then that is on them. I would be fine with going to the city hall, having a judge officiate, and be done with it." Beca paused, and Jesse glanced over at her, taking her sour expression in. "Jesse doesn't…his parents…well, they passed away, so they don't have anything to say about us getting married, but I'm sure that they would be happy for us, support us, welcome me into their family with open arms—you know, act the way that parents are supposed to act when their kid gets married. Look, I gotta go. I'm hungry, and my fiancé is currently painting a wall half-naked, which is a hell of a lot more fun than having this conversation with you." Beca hung up her phone, putting it down near their stuff.
"Watching me paint in my boxers is fun for you?" Jesse said, trying to lighten the mood. She ignored him, just putting music on and walking over to grab a paintbrush, painting tape, and a canister of cream pain to paint the borders with. She put it all down by one of the walls that he assumed had already had its second coat of paint. "Becs, c'mere." He put down the paint roller and walked over to her, pulling her into a hug. "For what it's worth, my parents would have loved you."
"Tattoos and all?"
"My mom had three tattoos; my dad had five." Jesse told her seriously, chuckling at her shocked expression. "I know…I was too much a wimp to deal with the pain that comes with it, which is why I have all of this virgin skin ready to be corrupted." He joked, waving his hand up and down his body. He grinned when he saw the corners of lips quiver.
"Tell me about them, especially those tattoos."
"Well, my dad was in the military when he was younger, before he met my mom. They met in college after he got out. She was about six years younger than him. He had a couple of military tats, like his unit number and stuff. Her parents weren't too pleased when she began dating him, because he was so much older, but they were in love. When they got married just after they graduated from college, they got their wedding bands tattooed on their left hands. My mom told me that it was his idea, because he said that it was the one piece of jewelry he never wanted her to take off." Jesse smiled as he thought about his parents, and he didn't try to hide the tears that filled his eyes as he talked about them with Beca. "That was my mom's first tattoo, dad's third."
"That's sweet." Beca whispered, making him smile wider.
"Yeah, they really loved each other. It took them a long time to get pregnant with me; my mom had some fertility issues, I don't know the exact details, but she was in her mid-thirties by the time she had me. They were so excited to have me, and they weren't sure if they would be able to have another kid, so they decided to commemorate my birth and all those years of trying, so they got tattoos of my name and my birth date. When I was fifteen, my mom found out that she had breast cancer. After the doctor announced that she was cancer-free, she decided to get a tattoo of a pink ribbon on her forearm as a reminder of her struggle with beating cancer."
Jesse looked down at Beca when he felt her fingers swipe at his cheek. He didn't realize that he had legitimately started crying. "They sound like amazing people. I wish that I could have met them." She bit her lip, hesitating, and he figured that she wanted to ask about their deaths.
"It was four years ago." He said quietly, his eyes never leaving hers. "It was their anniversary. They were driving home from dinner, and a drunk driver ran a red light at a busy intersection, hitting their car and slamming into them on the passenger side, killing my mom on impact. The force of the accident pushed them into on-coming traffic, and a car crashed into the front of my parents' car. My dad died on the way to the hospital."
Beca wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, Jesse." Jesse wrapped his arms around her waist, holding on to her, burying his face into her neck. He allowed himself to breathe in her smell, only slightly surprised by how comforting it is to have her arms wrapped around him and his arms wrapped around her.
"I'm just happy that I got to spend as much time as I did with them. I miss them." He paused, pulling away from her. "My mom would have gone on and on about how gorgeous and awesome you are, and my dad would probably pull you aside and ask you what is wrong with you for wanting to marry me."
"Would you…would you have told them that this marriage is fake?" She asked him, not looking into his eyes. He could see the guilt on her face. Even though Beca didn't get along with her parents in the way that a daughter should, he could tell she felt guilty about lying to them. She felt even guiltier about lying to their friends, who were more of her family than her own family was, and he felt the same way. He wished that he was marrying someone that he was in love with and wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He always thought that Beca was pretty and had they hit it off all those years before when Chloe had introduced them, he could have totally seen himself marrying Beca, but they barely tolerated each other, despite their weird sexual attraction that put them in uncomfortable situations.
"I don't know. My parents held the belief that you get married once. They thought that people should fight hard to stay together, because marriage is the ultimate sign of love between two people. They know that sometimes things don't work, but they always told me that I should go into marriage with the idea that this person is my soul mate—the person I intend to spend the rest of my life with. I don't know if I would have been able to lie to them about our relationship, but I am not sure if could have told them the truth either."
"I wish that my parents had taught me the same thing when I was younger. I wish that even if my dad cheated and left my mom and me for Sheila and her daughter that my mom had turned around and said that I shouldn't let what happened with them influence my view of relationships." She shrugged. "Whatever, right? I mean, I'm the perfect girl for you to have a sham marriage with." She moved away from him, crouching to paint the border on the wall that she had finished earlier in the day. He watched her for a few moments before returning to painting the wall.
By eight, they were done her bedroom—two rooms out of five that they needed to repaint (he discovered that she had painted his room to match his furniture earlier in the day, which was actually pretty nice of her; she played it off as though it was because his room was smaller and easier to paint on her own). "I have an idea for dinner." Jesse said after they cleaned themselves up, got redressed, and made their way out of the house, locking up behind them.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, follow me to the grocery store." Beca's brow furrowed, but she shrugged. The last couple of nights they had been getting takeout, but tonight he felt like cooking. He climbed into his car, pulling out of the driveway, parking along the road in front of their house while she backed out of the driveway.
When they parked at the grocery store, he waited for her to climb out of her car. He grabbed her hand, pretending that he was trying to act like a couple with her, ignoring the way that his heart seemed to beat a little faster at the fact that her hand was in his. They walked inside of the grocery store, with him grabbing a basket on the way in. He brought her to the produce section. "Um? Veggies for dinner?" She joked when he stopped in front of the display to look at her.
"No, we are making homemade pizzas instead of ordering them. Pick your toppings, Mitchell." Jesse turned and grabbed a small bag of packaged spinach leaves, tossing it into the bag. He felt Beca's eyes on him, watching him as he grabbed a couple of tomatoes, squeezing them slightly in his hands before adding them to bag when he determined that they were ripe. "Want any tomatoes?" She shook her head.
"I hate tomatoes, but I like tomato sauces and salsas." He looked over at her. "Just so you know for the interview."
"You think that Danielson will ask me how my wife likes to eat tomatoes."
"No, not that specifically, but Amy said we need to know each other, so this is something you should know about me."
"You only drink coffee with hot chocolate mix added to it and only eat tomatoes in sauces and salsas. Got it." He grinned, turning back to the produce.
"I like peppers." She told him, walking over to grab a green and yellow pepper. "I like peppers on my pizza." He smiled at her again, liking that she was opening up to him without him having to accidentally witness something, as he had before with the conversations with her parents.
They walked around the store, collecting the various ingredients that they wanted to include in their homemade pizzas. Their last stop, after picking up the tubes of pizza dough, was dessert. "What kind of dessert do you want?"
"Ice cream sundaes." She told him, grabbing him by his free arm to pull him down the ice cream aisle. "What is your favorite kind of ice cream sundae?"
Jesse took a moment to think about it. "Um, vanilla ice cream, chocolate and caramel sauce, sprinkles, pretzels, gummy bears, and Reese's pieces." Beca walked over to one of the displays, opening it to grab a pint of vanilla ice cream. She grabbed two pints for herself: one coffee and one mint chocolate chip. "Two pints for you?" She smiled, nodding her head.
"Another strange food preference of mine. My favorite ice cream sundae to make is half-coffee ice cream, half-mint chocolate chip, with caramel sauce, Nerds, and chunks of strawberries and pineapple."
"Seriously?" He looked at her like she was crazy, because there were so many strange flavors going on in that sundae. He didn't think that they went together. She blushed, shrugging her shoulders.
"Yeah, I know it seems weird, but it tastes really good." He liked learning some of her odd quirks. So far, they really only had to do with her food preferences, but it was a start.
"Are you going to let me try it?" She shrugged.
"Maybe." They went about collecting their ingredients for their sundaes. Jesse's arms were aching by the time they got to the checkout, because the basket was overloaded with their ingredients. "Let me buy." She complained when he pulled out his credit card from his wallet.
"Becs, we are getting married. It is going to be almost as if you are paying for it soon enough." He rolled his eyes.
"You two are engaged? Congratulations! When's the wedding? Can I see the ring?" The teenage girl behind the register gushed as she rang up their ingredients.
"Um, yeah, it is pretty recent. We haven't really figured out the wedding plans yet," Beca said quickly, blushing and glaring slightly at Jesse.
"Shit! I just realized I never gave you a ring." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm such an asshole."
"Well, why don't you put a quarter into that vending machine over there and get me a plastic one if you are so worried about it?" It was his turn to glare at her. Even if this wedding was a joke, he wasn't going to give her a plastic ring.
"Well, that could be nice, picking out the ring together," the checkout girl said quickly, obviously regretting asking them questions.
"Yeah, I have to make sure that you don't pick out something shitty." Beca said, laying a hand on his arm, winking.
"Please!" Jesse scoffed. "I bet that I could pick out a really killer ring for you—one that would be way more you than any ring you would pick out for yourself."
"You're on." She said. "On Saturday, you and I will go to the mall. You can chill in the food court, and I will go into one of the jewelry stores and pick out my own ring. Then, you go into the store and pick out a ring while I go shopping for some sexy lingerie for the wedding night." She smirked suggestively, making his heart pound. "Then, we both go in and show each other what we picked out."
"This is going to be fun." He told her, grinning. He needed to find the perfect ring; he was going to win this bet. "What are the stakes?"
"Excuse me?"
"If I lose, what do you get?" He asked as he signed the receipt and grabbed two of the bags, leaving her to grab the third. They walked in the direction of their cars, putting them away before facing each other. "Seriously, if I pick a ring that you hate or don't think is you in anyway, what do you get?"
"A move-free month. No forced movie watching. You can hide away in your room, watch all the movies you want, but you can't make me watch them. You can't quote movies to me. You can't make constant movie references. An entire month of nothing that has to do with movies."
"What if it has to do with my work?"
"The one exception." He grinned.
"I agree to this stipulation, no matter how much it pains me. What if I win…what should I get…?" He took a few moments to ponder what he wanted from her. "You have to be my slave for one month."
"Dude, no! That is way worse than mine!"
"That is what I want."
"What does this slave thing entail?"
"You have to do everything I ask you to do. Of course, if there is something that really makes you uncomfortable, then you can say no, but you can't say it for every little thing." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "That means I might ask you to wash my car, clean the bathroom, make me dinner, sing for me, spend an entire Saturday watching movies and letting me poke you every time you start to fall asleep, you know that kind of stuff, you have to do it."
"What things count as the things that I can say no to?"
"Well, I don't plan on telling you to kill anyone or anything like that if that is what you are worried about."
"No sex." She told him, holding her hand out.
Jesse stared at her. Did Beca really think that he was going to make her have sex with him if he were to win their bet? He wasn't that kind of person. If they ever had sex, it would be because she wanted it completely. He shook his head, looking away from her. "Do you really think that I would force you to have sex with me?"
"I was kidding, Jess. You are a good person. If there is one thing I know about you, it is that you are respectful. How many times did I mess with you last night and this morning, and you didn't lay a hand on me once. You're a good guy." Beca stepped close to him, laying a hand over Jesse's heart. He looked down at it before looking back into her eyes. "You have a good heart." He smiled at her, because today was turning out to be a pretty awesome day; he could see the two of them becoming friends, unlike before when they were usually at each other's throats.
"Thanks," he said, laying his hand over hers. "We should probably get home—the ice cream." She nodded her head and they separated. As he was driving, he couldn't help but feel weird about how it felt almost natural to say 'home' as in the place that they shared, together.
When they got back to his apartment, Jesse took control of the dinner making process. As Beca put away the ice cream and cold ingredients, he pulled off his sweater again and then washed his hands. He pulled out two cookie sheets from his cabinets and placed them onto the island. He then turned on the oven, letting it warm up. "Alright, after you wash your hands, you wanna get your dough ready, because this part is messy." She washed her hands as he grabbed the olive oil and the two tubes of dough. He peeled off part of the paper on both of them to make it easier for them. He poured a nice amount of oil on both cookie sheets. Then, he began to rub the oil across the sheet, and she followed suit.
"You know I have the perfect dirty joke in my head right now about what this oil feels like." She said, making him chuckle as he finished rubbing the oil all over the sheet.
"Ready to spread your dough?" He said suggestively, and it was her turn to laugh. He opened the tube of dough completely, unrolling it on the pan. She followed him, squealing at the feel of the cold dough beneath her fingers. He liked seeing her like this, almost child-like, having fun. "You're like a kid right now. How old are you again?" He asked her as they worked the dough with their fingers until they both had the dough positioned the way they wanted.
"Three," she said sarcastically, making him grin. When he was done, he walked over to the sink and began washing the oil from his hands. She bumped his hip with hers, getting him to move over so that they were fighting over the soap and water. Finally, he grabbed her hands in his and began washing all four of their hands at once, making her roll her eyes. When they were done washing their hands, they dried them off.
"Now, we put the dough in the oven to cook a little. This will make sure that it is cooked fully throughout. While they cook a little, we can cut the veggies some." Jesse told her as he started grabbing their vegetables and washing them while she put the two cookie sheets in the oven.
"This seems like a lot of work. Why couldn't we just order a pizza again?"
"Cause its fun, Beca."
"Not really." She muttered as he handed her a cutting board and knife. "You sure you wanna give me a knife?" He cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Depends. Are you going to stab me?"
"I'm considering it." He pouted, making her laugh. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
"I'm feeling the love, Almost Wifey." She crinkled her nose, shaking her head. Yeah, it kind of felt weird to refer to love and their impending marriage in the same sentence, so he could see where she was coming from with that.
After a couple of minutes in the oven, Jesse pulled the cookie sheets out of the oven and left them on the oven to let them cool a little. They finished slicing the vegetables. He then moved the sheets to the island again, handing her a package of provolone cheese. They began to put their pizzas together, sliding them into the oven to cook for about fifteen minutes.
"I'm starving. How much longer?" Beca asked from the couch where she had her laptop in her lap, head phones around her neck with the faint sound of music leaking from them. Jesse was sitting at the little table with some sheet music spread in front of him, looking over what his boss had written for the movie they were currently working on last week. He stood up to check on the pizzas.
"Looks like two or three more minutes." He said, walking back to the table, tapping the rhythm of the sheet music onto the table with his fingers. "I think this sounds like shit." He muttered to himself.
"What does?" He jumped when he felt her lay a hand on his arm as she walked by him, an empty water glass in her hand.
"Um, something Frank wrote for the movie. I don't think it really fits the movie. It's supposed to be an action movie, but this music is way too serious. It is too heavy. Look, I will show you." He stood up and walked over to the keyboard he had set up in the corner of the room. He sat down and began to play the music.
"It's pretty."
"Yeah, really pretty."
"But you are right; it's heavy. It would be good for a drama, but not for something that is supposed to be action packed. It should be fast, get your heart racing." She leaned over his shoulder to look at the music. "It should go up here, instead of down, and the tempo should speed up a little." She said, pointing to a certain part of the song.
"That's what I thought." Jesse said, turning his head slightly to look at her. Beca smiled, blushing, and she stood up quickly. "The music producer in you could do wonders for my career over the next few years." She rolled her eyes, walking back to the fridge to get the water purifier from the fridge to refill her glass.
"I have my own work to do, Mr. Swanson." She sipped her water, studying him as he replayed the song again, making the changes that she had pointed out to him. It sounded so much better, and he stood up. He walked over to the oven and pulled the pizzas out.
"These are ready." He began cutting them, while she grabbed plates for them, excited for her pizza. On her way to the table, she grabbed a knife and a fork. "Really? You cut pizza?"
"I don't like having greasy fingers. I always cut my pizza." She said as she began slicing her pizza. "So, we should get to know each other some."
"I think I know all that I need to know about you solely from your coffee-hot chocolate hybrid, your inability to eat tomatoes aside from in sauces or salsas, you crazy sundae concoctions, and you cut your damn pizza like a toddler." She rolled her eyes, popping a forkful of pizza into her mouth, smiling cheekily at him as she chewed.
"I'm serious though. We should get to know each other."
"You're right. Serious time. Although, it will be hard, because you look like a little kid right now."
Beca flipped him off, thinking of a question to ask him. "They're gonna ask about our first meeting, obviously. That's fine, but it is a matter of our first date and such that we probably need to work out."
"Which one?" Jesse said, raising an eyebrow at him.
"The one that led to a relationship. The other one doesn't count."
"Why shouldn't it count? It would collaborate our story, because even if a couple knows each other for as long as we do, they don't get married after only being in the same city for barely five months. Not unless she's pregnant."
"Or he's trying to stay in the country." She said pointedly, and he nodded. "Right, so we might want to include that first date, too, but it will have to have a different ending then the one it did end with."
"Yeah, I'm not sure the trip to the police station is going to work in our favor."
"You should have just punched the guy and gotten it over with. I wouldn't have had to do it, and then his crazy bitch of a girlfriend wouldn't have pushed me, and then I wouldn't have felt the need to throw a chair at her, thus breaking a window."
Jesse laughed as he remembered the events of that night. Beca had come out of the police station, surlier than she had been going in, vowing to never go out with him again, because it got her finger-printed and fined for vandalism. They had a lot of fun that night, and he had been disappointed that she was so adamant about not going out with him again. At the same time, he realized that it probably wouldn't have been a good idea, considering that he lived in New York. "Although, it does make a funny story for the grandkids." He joked, but he saw that his joke wasn't funny to her. Her face fell, and she looked pointedly at her pizza.
"We should say that we had a great time at dinner, and you drove me home, walked me to my door, kissed me goodnight, and then promptly got onto a plane back to New York the following afternoon. We decided that it was too difficult to be anything more than friends, because our careers had us in different cities, and neither one of us wanted to go through the heartache that is a long distance relationship."
"Sounds good." He said quietly. "So, our second first date…" She shrugged.
"Um, we ran into each other at Chloe and Dean's engagement party. Chloe once again had us seated together, because she was so sure that we were the perfect couple. You and I had a few drinks, and we started talking about life in LA. You mentioned that you weren't happy with where you were in your last job, so you were thinking about looking for a new one. And, you were interested in getting out of New York, because you broke things off with your last girlfriend."
"You remember that?" He asked, surprised. That had been his exact reasoning for why he wanted to leave. Things with Kala had gone sour rather quickly at the end, and he was sure that New York wasn't big enough for the two of them. Plus, he was miserable in his old job, the cost of rent was horribly high for his shitty apartment, and there were no prospects of moving up in his old production company that he worked for. Talking to Hat and Chloe (and Beca by default) about life in LA being great, he decided to make the move there, sending out resumes, getting in touch with old classmates and the contacts that his former professors had sent his way. He applied and applied, interviewed and interviewed, finally landing the assistant composer job with BioTerra. He didn't know what would have happened if he wound up having this issue when he was still living in New York. He couldn't have married a woman like Kala. That would have been hell.
"Yeah, well, I mean, you were sitting next to me and telling Dean about your ex, so it's not that big of a deal that I overheard your conversation."
"Right," he nodded his head, but it was kind of a big deal. At least to him. It meant that she actually listened to him, taken an interest in his life. That kind of thing meant something. "Um, so yeah, we should probably say that I stopped seeing Kala earlier than I did."
"When did you and Kala break up?"
"About three weeks before the engagement party." She grimaced. "You know what, whatever. Kala was batshit crazy, so getting over her in three weeks wouldn't be that bad. I just can't believe I wasted a year on her."
"Wait! You cheated on her with me?" Her eyebrows rocketed up, disappearing into her hairline. Shit, he didn't mean to say that. "Twice?!" So, he may or may not have gotten drunk those two times and cheated on crazy Kala with Beca. It wasn't like he planned it, though.
"Kala and I weren't exclusive until about a month into a relationship, so really the first time wasn't exactly cheating." She stared at him, and he knew that she didn't believe him. "Okay, stop looking at me like that. I was drunk; it was spin the bottle. It's not really cheating."
"We made out when all we had to do was just kiss once and be done with hit."
"You're the one who shoved your tongue down my throat! I was just responding, because you a fucking good kisser." He watched her facial expression go from one of horror and shame to being pretty damn pleased with herself. He rolled his eyes, because, really, this girl could be the death of him if she ever decided to mess with him by kissing him.
"That is beside the point! You could have—should have—stopped the kiss if you had a girlfriend. Or, I don't know, mentioned that you were dating someone so Chloe wouldn't have tried to set us up at that party. Then, what about New Year's! You told everyone you were single!"
"No, I told everyone that I was there alone. You and I were the only ones not kissing anyone at midnight, so I thought I would just kiss you. It's tradition. I was drunk…"
"You are an asshole. So, I guess we know who is going to be the cause of our divorce." She stood up, taking her empty plate to the sink.
"Hey! I'm not normally a cheater. Hell, my girlfriend in college cheated on me on numerous occasions—I even caught her cheating on me, and I stayed with her, because I thought I loved her. I was drunk; it was stupid. Plus, Kala was picking out the wedding china after about a month of dating, hence the first drunken kiss with you. The New Year's incident was after she told me that I would have to convert from Judaism to Catholicism." He said, following her to the sink with his empty plate.
"First of all, you're an idiot for staying with the girl that cheated. I would know. I saw it happen to my mom." She said quietly. Shit, that is why she was so upset, he realized. It brought up memories of her dad and mom. "Second, it's your own fault for staying with Kala if she was so crazy."
"I thought it was endearing at first. It got a little insane when she found out that I wasn't willing to change religions." Jesse reached out and took Beca's hand in his. Using his hold on her hand, he pulled her into his arms. She stayed still for a few moments before she returned his hug. "I'm sorry if I reminded you of your dad." He said quietly. She nodded her head, pulling away from him.
"Can we take a break from getting to know each other? I think I need to take a shower. I feel gross from all the painting and stuff from earlier." He nodded his head, knowing that she still felt uncomfortable with her new discovery and the awkward hug. She pushed past him, rushing towards his room, not daring to look him in the eye. Fuck, why did he have to ruin this pretty great day?