JENNIE

When Lisa was released from the hospital, she was put in a wheelchair and instructed to take it easy for the next six weeks. She looked irritated that she couldn't walk out of the place on her own two feet. She was walking around much better now, and probably could handle the journey downstairs just fine, but I made her suck it up and keep her ass in the wheelchair. Her internal organs were sewn up, and rest was what she needed, not some macho display of invulnerability.

Much to the delight of Jackson and the other D-Bags, Lisa frowned the entire time I pushed her down the hall. Because I couldn't help myself, I patted her head like she was an obedient puppy. She pursed her lips at me, not amused. I thought she'd try and bolt for the door once she saw freedom, but she surprisingly stayed in her chair and let me continue to take care of her. A couple of nurses trailed after us with carts full of get-well flowers and gifts. I had no idea what we were going to do with all the stuff the fans had sent her.

As I rolled Lisa outside, where a sleek black stretch limo was waiting for us courtesy of the groveling-for-his-job Nick, I considered just having Lisa sign the gifts and pass them out to her admirers. They were everywhere outside. Holding signs, candles . . . each other . . . they cheered in wailing shrieks when they finally got to see their recovering rock star.

Attendees from the hospital hurried to push them back and rush us to the idling car. Lisa held up her hand when a burly guy grabbed her chair away from me. "Wait, I want to talk to them."

The hospital staff seemed surprised that she would want to address "the little people," but I wasn't. Lisa had watched these fans hold a vigil for her night after chilly night. Thanking them for their endless dedication was the least she could do. Knowing Lisa, she probably wanted to give each person a warm hug and a personalized message of gratitude. There were a lot of them, though, and Lisa and I did have a plane to catch. Since Lisa was in no shape to continue the tour right now, we were going to take Gavin up on his offer and spend a few weeks recouping in Pennsylvania before visiting my parents in Ohio. It was a break I was really looking forward to taking—Lisa too.

Taking back the wheelchair handles, I steered Lisa toward a large cluster of people hovering near the corner; the other D-Bags respectfully stayed by the car, giving Lisa a moment alone with her fans. Well, most of them were respectful. Lucas had to shove Jackson into the limo to keep him from trying to steal the spotlight.

The screams from the crowd were earsplitting, and I hoped nobody on this side of the hospital was trying to sleep. When Lisa was close enough, she reached back and put her fingers over mine in a silent thank-you. Holding up her other hand, she silenced the crowd.

"I can't thank you enough for your devotion and your prayers." She shook her head, and some of the girls directly in front of her sighed. "I saw you. Every night I saw you standing out here in the cold . . . for me. You don't know how much that means to me, how much each and every one of you means to me." Her eyes scanned the crowd, a crowd that was struggling to act mature and not squeal like little girls. "I will never forget this." She squeezed my hand, and I knew she didn't just mean the fans. This place, this moment in time would live on forever for us. We were married here.

Lisa thanked the crowd, and I started to turn her away. A brave girl off to our side shouted, "Congratulations on your marriage!"

Lisa looked back at her with an achingly sexy half-smile on her lips. "Thank you." The poor girl looked like she might pass out, so I quickly wheeled her away.

Amid the screams of her leaving, I leaned down and whispered, "You just can't help it, can you?"

Her expression innocent, she asked, "Help what?"

Smiling, I kissed her cheek. "Being ridiculously attractive."

She was shaking her head as I helped her into the limo. "I'm pretty sure you're the only ridiculous one here," she murmured, grunting in pain as she transferred her weight.

I rolled my eyes as I got into the car behind her. Nice try, but Lisa knew she was attractive. She may have doubted that anyone actually cared about her, but her looks had never escaped her. Being openly ogled everywhere you go will do that to you, I guess.

Everyone's bags were inside the limo as we headed straight for the airport; even Lisa's guitar was there. The D-Bags were parting ways, and that thought made me sad. I was going to miss my extended family. But the tour was over for them. By the time Lisa was healed enough to return, only a few weeks of Niki's tour would be left. Instead of rejoining Niki for the last leg, the guys had decided that they would take a break and work on songs for their second album. Well, that wasn't entirely true. It hadn't entirely been the guys' decision.

Niki had made her public apology the day after our wedding. Showing up on a popular morning show, she'd tearfully confessed to her fans that she'd helped fabricate and prolong her relationship with Lisa. She told her fans that she "got swept up in the game, and let money and success override common decency." She apologized to all of the fans for misleading them, and begged for their forgiveness. She'd ended her speech by telling the world that she would be completing the remainder of her tour without the D-Bags, so Lisa had ample time to rest and relax with her wife.

The fans were naturally quite upset with her, and from what I'd heard, tickets sales for the remainder of the tour had dropped considerably.

Even though it seemed too small a gesture, I sent her a thank-you card.

Nick immediately started planning a new tour for the guys—a tour that, just as Justin had predicted, they were going to headline. He called Lisa while we were enjoying a peaceful evening together with Gavin, Riley, and Ryujin. In as polite a way as she could, Lisa told Nick that any and all arrangements for the band would need to be made through their new agent, Taehyung Kim. When she hung up with Nick, she had a huge smile on her face. "That was fun."

As the official go-to person for the D-Bags, Taehyung negotiated all details of the tour. When he called Lisa a couple weeks later with the information, I knew without a doubt that Taehyung was the absolute right person for the job. He understood the band, and he understood their desires. He fought to keep the venues on the smaller side—larger than Justin's last tour, but smaller than Niki's—so the experience could be more personal for the fans and the bands. That meant less money for all parties—but Lisa didn't care about the money, and Taehyung knew that. And money wasn't really an issue anymore anyway. After the accident, the D-Bags' album shot right past Niki's to land in the number one spot. And it stayed there. Financially, the D-Bags were going to be fine for quite a while.

Taehyung also helped me out with my career. Four weeks after the accident, when Lisa and I were in Ohio with my parents for Christmas, I finally let Taehyung read my book. I was a wreck when I e-mailed it to him. It was so much worse than letting Lisa read it. What I did to Taehyung in the book, in real life, was inexcusable. I didn't see how he could possibly be okay reading it. When I didn't hear back from him for three days, I thought my chest was going to explode from the anxiety. Lisa repeatedly told me it was going to be fine. My mother told me I was going to give myself unnecessary worry lines. I couldn't help it, though. The book was so personal; a piece of my soul. Not getting a reaction to it right away was killing me. But maybe I deserved that.

On the day that I had originally been slated to get married, I was pacing the living room and wondering if Taehyung was ever going to call me when he finally did. I was so nervous about talking to him, I stepped outside. My parents' yard was covered in snow, and everything outside was muffled and insulated. It was still early in the day, mid-morning, and there wasn't a whole lot of movement in the neighborhood. It made Taehyung's voice that much clearer in my ear.

"Hey, it's me. I finally read your book."

I sat on a bench on the porch and remembered sitting there with Taehyung, ages ago. "And . . . ?" I cringed, not sure if I wanted to hear his answer.

He paused. "And I think it's great. I think you should publish it."

Relief washed through me. "Are you sure? It's so . . . personal. I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have."

Taehyung sighed, and for once there wasn't any lingering pain in the sound. "I understand too, Jennie. Reading the book . . . I understand so much better what happened. I wish it hadn't happened the way it had, and I know you feel the same, but I'm okay now, and this doesn't bother me. Go. Publish it. Knock the socks off the literary world. You deserve it."

As I leaned back on the bench, I told him, "Thank you. That means a lot to me." Smiling, I added, "I guess I should get started on getting it published. So, Mr. Brilliant, you have any contacts in the publishing industry?"

I could hear Taehyung's smile when he answered me. "Actually, I know you'd probably considered going with a traditional publisher right away, but what do you think about releasing it yourself first? Garner some attention before you dive into the traditional route? The minute I finished reading, I started looking into it, and I found a ton of articles and websites about self-publishing. If you want, I can help you with the technical side. Then I'll help you market the book. That is my specialty, you know."

"No, I hadn't considered that, but I like the idea." I paused to think it over, and he had a point. A story about cheating might be hard for me to sell to a publisher. Releasing it myself seemed like a great way to prove the story's merits first. Still amazed by Taehyung, I shook my head. "You'd really do that for me?"

"Like you told me before, Jennie, I'd do anything for you. You and Lisa both."

I didn't even know what to say to that, so in the end I just thanked him. Then I ran into the house and tossed my arms around Lisa's neck as I kissed every square inch of her face. "I'm going to be published!" I squealed.

Lacing her arms around me and gently sitting me beside her on the couch, she murmured, "I know. And you're going to be huge." Her lips curled into an adorable pout. "When you're famous and I'm a has-been, you're going to leave me, aren't you?"

Giggling, I threaded my fingers through her hair. "For one, thanks to you, I'm already famous. And secondly"—I tenderly placed my lips against hers—"I'm never leaving you." Pulling back, I lost myself in her amazing eyes. "And lastly, you'll never be a has-been. Not to me." Nope, not ever.

Two weeks later, Lisa and I said our goodbyes to our families and traveled back home to Seattle. Lisa was damn near giddy when our plane came to a complete stop. She immediately bounded to her feet and pulled me to mine. I wasn't sure why she was so excited as we exited the first class section, a complimentary upgrade from Nick. I thought maybe Lisa was just happy to be returning to familiar stomping grounds, but after acknowledging a few fans at the airport, gathering our things from baggage claim, and climbing into a taxi, the real reason for her excitement became crystal clear.

Instead of giving the taxi driver our address, Lisa gave him Evan's address. Confused, I looked over at her. "Why are we going to Evan's?"

It wasn't that I didn't want to see the guys. I did. But Lisa and I had been living with family for the last six weeks, and I wanted a little alone time with my wife. We had had some privacy at Gavin's and at my parents', sure. Dad had even let Lisa and I share a room since we were legally married. And even though we'd been warned not to, we'd broken the doctor's orders about restraining from intimacy. We'd actually broken that rule on week three. Lisa is hard to resist, and when she'd told me she felt fine as she was running her tongue along my collarbone . . . well, will power still wasn't my strong point, I guess. But those brief moments hadn't been nearly enough, and I was ready to go home.

Lisa glowed as she answered me. "We're not going to Evan's, we're going to the shop."

I was confused for a minute until I realized what she was talking about—the auto body shop beneath Evan's loft, the shop that was garaging Lisa's Chevelle. I rolled my eyes at her as I laughed. Lisa and her toys. When the taxi let us out, Rox, the female mechanic who "knew" Lisa "very well," was there holding her keys. Lisa was so excited, she picked the girl up. I cringed, and not from jealousy. I just didn't want her injuring herself. She'd been given the all clear, but still, she should be careful.

Rox was laughing when Lisa set her down. With grease-stained fingers, she indicated inside the garage, where I could see a huge Chevelle-shaped sheet on the far side of the room. It made me happy that they'd protected the car as well as store it. It made Lisa's eyes shine as she gingerly took the keys from her.

Walking up to her car, she lovingly removed the cover. By the look on her face, I thought maybe I should give her a minute alone with her "baby." Her smile wide, her hand slowly ran up the edge of the shiny black vehicle, then caressed the top. And damn if it wasn't erotic to watch; it gave me shivers, and I wanted her to finish fondling her car so she could fondle me.

From beside me, Rox murmured, "She sure loves that car."

I had to laugh as I watched Lisa rest her cheek on the roof. God. Really? "Yeah, that she does."

As I started to walk away, Rox blurted out, "I never believed the rumors . . . just so you know."

By the strange expression on her face, I didn't quite believe her. But I knew she was trying to be nice, so I played along. "Thanks. That's good to hear."

Stepping up to Lisa, I extended my hand, palm up. Lifting her head from the roof, she frowned at my gesture. "What?"

Keeping a straight face, I told her, "Seeing as how you're still recovering from a serious operation, I don't think you should drive."

Lisa's jaw dropped, and her fingers possessively curled around the keys. "I'm fine, and you know I'm fine. Sex takes way more energy than driving, and we've been doing that for weeks." A playful gleam in her eyes, she added, "And it didn't hurt at all when you rode me this morning. It felt pretty amazing actually."

Widening my eyes, I slapped my hand over her mouth. Rox was laughing, so I knew she'd heard her over the din of the noisy shop. I could feel Lisa laughing under my fingers. I considered punching her in the gut, just to see if that hurt, but I'd vowed never to hit anyone again so I contained myself. I did make her unlock the door and get inside as quickly as possible, though. She was laughing when I climbed in the other side. "What?" she asked, starting the car. "Am I wrong?"

Giving her a sly grin, I shook my head. No, she wasn't wrong. This morning had been pretty amazing. Lisa's stamina was right back where it used to be. In fact, you wouldn't even know she'd been in such a scary accident by the looks of her. The only visible mark on her was a slightly pink scar running down the middle of her abdomen from where the doctor had cut her open to save her spleen. But she'd been stitched together very well, and given enough time, the slight mark would be nearly invisible. I didn't care if the scar remained visible for the rest of her life. Inadvertently, the scar had saved her life. And, in a way that couldn't fully be explained, it was kind of sexy.

Really wanting to be alone now, Lisa and I headed for home. When we drove up to our street, a sad fact quickly became apparent to us. Sometimes, you can't go back home. Lisa's narrow, car-packed street was now so full of vehicles and people, we couldn't pull into it. Stopping alongside the main road, we looked down the street where tons of people were milling about. I could just make out our two story home, and I was horrified to see people taking pictures of it.

"Please tell me your neighbors are having a block party," I whispered.

Lisa looked back at me; her face was resigned. "I don't think this has anything to do with my neighbors."

While we continued to stare, a couple of those neighbors stormed into their yards and started shouting at the loiterers. I'd already known Lisa was right, but that confirmed it. Somehow, Lisa's house had become a well-known tourist attraction. And even if we called the cops and had these people removed, it wouldn't matter. They'd just come back. Idly, I hoped our stuff was okay. The thought of someone breaking in and smelling my underwear, or Lisa's, instantly flooded my brain. God, I hoped that hadn't happened.

Sighing, Lisa pulled back into traffic. I understood. We couldn't go back there. It broke my heart some. I had a lot of memories in that home. Some good, some not so good. But a place was just a place. her heart was my home, and I wasn't ever leaving it.

Lisa drove us to Lucas and Jackson's house. It was in the comparatively quiet burbs, and no one was around when we pulled up. I doubted the fans knew about this place, so we wouldn't be disturbed here. And since Jackson had moved into my sister's apartment, Lucas had room for us. Although, not as much room as we'd thought; Rachel had moved in over the holidays. But the pair were quiet and reserved, so I knew living with them would be comfortable—for the time being, at least.

Lucas filled us in on what had happened with Lisa's house. Apparently, Joey had spilled the beans about where she lived in an interview with a skeezy online tabloid. Showing absolutely no ethics, the magazine had actually posted her address, and it had spread like wildfire around the Internet in just a few hours. After Niki's confession of manipulating the public, Joey had also finally confessed to the world that she was the real star of the inconclusive sex tape and that Niki had paid her to keep quiet.

I was both shocked and not shocked by the interview. We'd suspected that Joey had been paid off. It made me wonder if Niki had also squashed the release of any of the other sex tapes, since no one else had come forward. Or maybe the other girls just had more self-respect than Joey. It didn't matter too much to me either way now. Let them be released. I knew my wife in a way that no woman watching erotic, self-made porn ever would.

While Lisa and I looked for a new place to live, I published my book as an ebook. Taehyung helped me prepare the manuscript and put together a classy, romantic cover that would instantly catch people's eye. Releasing it was scary as hell. I had no idea how people would react. I had no idea what they would say. But I had to do it. This was my dream, my career, my passion. So, with great trepidation and excitement, I uploaded my baby into cyberspace to be judged, hopefully more positively than negatively.

After the ebook went live, a feeling of relief washed over me. I'd done it. I'd created a story, a piece of my soul, and I'd had the courage to share it. Even if it wasn't universally accepted, I was proud of myself for following through with it. When I made my first sale, another feeling washed through me—excitement! I felt like I was officially an author after that moment.

While the ebook started gathering a fan base, I put my paperback together. It pained me to have to wait to hold the physical book in my hands, and I anxiously checked for my copies to arrive on my doorstep every day. When they finally did, Lisa intercepted the package. I'd been at lunch with Somi, Kate, and Irene, and when I got back to Lucas's house, a note was taped to the front door. It merely read, Come find me.

Grinning at Lisa's handwriting, I opened the door. On the ground were rose petals. Each petal had one letter written on it. I was laughing as I followed the trail that spelled out, I can't wait for you to find me, so hurry up already. The excessive trail of petals led in a loop through the kitchen and into the living room. Oddly enough, the trail ended at the bathroom. I was hesitant to open the closed door, but I was too curious not to.

"Lisa, what exactly are we doing in here?" I murmured as I pushed it open. She wasn't in there, though. Instead, I found a huge note taped to the toilet. In large letters it screamed at me, We don't have time for mind-blowing sex in here. Focus, and come find me!

Turning around, I started laughing. "Lisa, where are you?" A sign near the bathroom light switch pointed down the hall, so I figured she was in our bedroom.

Heading down the hall, I noticed Post-its stuck to the pictures. Are you excited? Are you ready? Would you hurry up and find me? Jackson's old room that we were using as ours had a bunch of petals taped onto it. They formed a heart. In the center of the heart, a sticky note read, "I think I'm in here."

Giggling, I pushed our door open. "Lisa? What's going on?" she wasn't in there either, though. Her guitar case was open on our bed, and the story notes for my next novel were strewn all over it. A bright pink note exclaimed, "Future bestseller!" I laughed harder and looked around for Lisa. When I still couldn't find her, I looked in the closet. I knew she had to be in this house somewhere. She wasn't in the closet, though. All I found was a piece of journal paper with song lyrics written upon it. The words were beautiful, and brand new. I could hear Lisa's flawless voice singing them in my head as I read them. You'll never know how incredible you are to me, how desperately I love you. I would do it all over again if I needed to. I'd go back to the beginning for you.

My eyes hazy, I again called out for her. She still didn't answer me. Wondering if her lyrics were clues, I went back to the beginning and headed to the front door. Still nothing. Just when I was sure I'd never find her, I opened the door and took a look outside. Standing on the welcome mat, resplendent in faded blue jeans and her black leather jacket, Lisa was holding a dozen long-stemmed roses in one hand and a copy of my paperback in her other. I didn't know what excited me more—finally finding her, the electric gleam in her eye, the smell of the fragrant flowers in her hand, or my name splashed all over the glossy six-by-nine cover.

Raising a brow, Lisa spoke before I could respond. "What took you so long?"

Laughing and crying, I flung my arms around her and pulled her out of the frosty air and into the house. I urged her head down to mine and thrilled in the coolness of her lips. Kicking the door shut with her foot, Lisa managed to speak a few words around my eager mouth. "I have . . . something . . . for you."

I was dying to finally hold my book. Letting go of Lisa, I extended my hands like a small child begging for a treat. Lisa immediately placed the roses in my arms. I frowned at her as she laughed; the roses were gorgeous, but she knew that wasn't what I really wanted right now. A teasing smile on her face, she pointed to the book I was aching to flip through. "You can't see it until you promise to sign one for me."

I pursed my lips, but Lisa shook her head. "Nope. I want a signed copy. I want the first signed copy."

Groaning, I nodded and shook my free hand at her. "Fine, I'll sign whatever you want, just let me see it."

Intrigued, Lisa murmured, "Really? Anything I want?" as she took back her flowers and gave me the book.

I ignored her suggestive tone as I stared at the sexy black and white photo of a woman standing between two person. The title, Irresistible, was sprawled across the top and the pseudonym I was using as my pen name was in big bold letters along the bottom. I wasn't hiding who I was anymore, but people knew my real name now, and I didn't want the story to become a success just because I was a rock-god's wife. Like Lisa, I wanted to make it on my own merits, not because of the hype that surrounded my life.

Holding the book was . . . surreal. I actually did it. I actually wrote and published a novel. Crazy.

"I'm so incredibly proud of you, Jennie."

As I looked up at Lisa, I could see that pride reflected on her face. It warmed me in places I didn't know I could be warmed.

Lisa's new tour, with Holeshot and Avoiding Redemption as her opening acts, was starting in April. I wasn't sure if it was the label's doing or Taehyung's, but the guys were going international this time. At the tail end of the U.S. tour, they had concerts set up in both the United Kingdom and Australia. I found it really humorous that the D-Bags were going Down Under. Life sure had a way of turning full circle.

But before Lisa could go on tour with the boys, something she was really looking forward to doing, she had to do something she was not looking forward to. But, shocking the hell out of myself, I was looking forward to it.

Zipping up my carry-on bag, I walked across my new bedroom to find Lisa. We'd moved into a new spacious home a couple weeks earlier. It was a lot nicer than any home I'd lived in before. It was almost too much for just the two of us, but Lisa insisted that when our family expanded, we'd eventually need the room. And the location couldn't be beat. Jackson had wanted us to get a place in Medina, right next door to Bill Gates if we could, but Lisa and I had opted to get out of the city instead. Traveling north, we'd found a private, secluded home on eleven acres. Our nearest neighbor was a sweet older couple who dropped by with pie when they saw our moving van driving past. Living in the countryside, our life was going to be a lot more reclusive than it had been in Seattle, but considering how crazy things became whenever we were out in public, a mellow home life with few distractions was exactly what we both wanted.

Retrieving our things from Lisa's old house had been a process. My friends had helped, and had braved their way through the throngs of near-constant visitors to get inside the home and pack it up for us. It was a little embarrassing having other people box up all of our belongings, but Lisa and I lived pretty simply, and there really hadn't been all that much stuff to begin with at the old house. And we still lived pretty simply. Our new home seemed a little empty with the scant amount of furniture we owned. I was going to have to get some help filling it up. Good thing Somi and Taehyung were extremely good at shopping and decorating.

I did what I could to make our house feel like a home, though. There were personal touches throughout each room that made me feel like we were right where we belonged. As I walked through our spacious bedroom, I had to smile at the familiarity—Lisa's comfortable chair was tucked in a corner next to a floor lamp, creating a perfect space for reading. The Ramones poster I'd given her was framed and held a place of honor on the wall beside the D-Bags' Bumbershoot poster. Lisa's cowboy hat from the strip club was hanging off of a peg on the footboard of our new bed. And copies of the D-Bags' CD were resting near copies of my book. It already felt like we'd been living here for years.

Walking into the bathroom, I glanced over at the jetted tub large enough to sleep in, the ginormous two-person shower, and the expansive granite countertops. I could live just in this bathroom and be happy. Dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, Lisa was leaning on the counter, staring at herself in the mirror. she was taking long deep breaths in and out. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear she was nervous.

"We need to go. You okay?"

Lisa glanced my way, flashing me a perfectly carefree smile. "Yep. I'm ready."

Hands on my hips, I clarified my question. "I asked if you were okay."

Her smile turning seductive, Lisa turned and wrapped her arms around my waist. "I just made love to a beautiful, successful author. I'm fantastic."

A bright grin exploded onto my face. Then my mind shifted back to Lisa's big news. "And your band is up for Best New Artist tomorrow, so we better hop on that plane and get your butt to the Grammys."

The nominations had been announced at the end of November, a week after our wedding, but Lisa was still in denial about the whole thing. She just couldn't wrap her head around how fast everything was happening. I couldn't either sometimes, but I wasn't as surprised as she was. Lisa was the entire package—looks, talent, charisma. She had that "it" factor that caught people's attention. The Grammys were only the beginning.

Lisa sighed, her smile relaxing. "Do I really have to go to this thing?"

Laughing at her reluctance to accept praise, even from her peers, I nodded. "You're scheduled to perform, so yeah, you kind of have to be there."

Lisa closed her eyes. "Why on earth did I agree to do that?"

I gave her a soft kiss as I squeezed her tight. "Because you can't resist a stage, and the world is a better place because of that fact."

Lisa opened one eye in a dry expression of disbelief. Laughing, I kissed her again. "Off you go to rule the world, rock star."

Releasing me, Lisa started heading for our bedroom. Over her shoulder she told me, "Well, it's not like we're actually going to win anyway. Our album hasn't been out long enough."

I kept my mouth shut, but I knew that fact didn't matter in this case. I had no doubt in my mind that Lisa was going to win.

When we were in the limo being driven to Staples Center for the ceremony, I reconsidered my excitement about being there. Aside from the industrial matting at my hospital-room wedding, I'd never walked a red carpet before in my life, and the thought of stepping out in front of all of those photographers made my stomach feel like a tiny person was in there frothing up some egg whites for a lemon meringue pie. I was possibly going to be sick. Looking at Lisa beside me, she surprisingly looked the exact same way. I was sure she wasn't nervous about her entrance, though—it was more her impending win that was bothering her. Lisa didn't mind the spotlight, but she wasn't the best at accepting kudos. she'd even refused to write a speech, saying there wasn't a chance she was winning so why bother.

To calm my nerves I pulled out my phone and sent a quick message. Lisa glanced down at my screen. Looking like she also wanted a distraction, she asked, "What are you doing?"

Smirking, I told her, "Tweeting your fans." Holding up the phone, I read her my message. "About to head into the Grammys. Wish me luck."

Lisa rolled her eyes at me. One of the first things Taehyung had done as Lisa's agent was to have her join some social media sites. He'd told Lisa that the best way to put rumors to rest was to directly interact with her fans. I agreed and wondered why we hadn't done it sooner. But the look of confusion, reluctance and irritation on Lisa's face had explained it all. "You want me to whatbook? And Tweet? Like a bird? Are you serious?" she'd said to Taehyung in exasperation.

Lisa had stayed as far from technology as she possibly could, for as long as she possibly could. She just wasn't into it. She didn't even own a computer. She either borrowed my laptop or Jackson's. She preferred to use mine. She said that Jackson's keyboard tended to be on the sticky side. I did not want to think about why. But Lisa was being forced into the modern age, practically kicking and screaming. Her expression of resigned disgust when she'd agreed was so adorable that I'd taken a photo of it. Maybe someday I'd post it on her wall.

After my Tweet on Lisa's behalf, the well-wishes started pouring in. Lisa eventually laughed and got sucked into it. We stared at my phone for so long watching the comments coming in that we didn't even notice when we arrived at Staples Center. Lisa and the guys had already been there earlier, when they'd rehearsed, but that had been nothing compared to this. People were everywhere. Cameras were everywhere. Celebrities were everywhere. It was one of those surreal once-in-a-lifetime moments.

Staring out the window, Lisa murmured, "Fuck me," as the car pulled around to the drop zone. The rest of the people in the car started freaking out as we came to a stop. Not wanting to ride separately, our limo was pretty packed—Jackson, Jisoo, Evan, Somi, Lucas, and Rachel were with us. Everyone looked amazing too. Jisoo and Somi had outdone themselves on our hair and makeup, and all of the guys had been approached by big name designers to supply our wardrobe. My dress was a stunning black one-shoulder piece that probably cost more money than I made in a year waitressing. I was being very careful not to stain, snag, or rip it.

The guys were dressed a bit more casually but still looked incredible. Evan was in gray slacks with a matching gray jacket and a black button-up shirt underneath. Lucas was sporting fashionably frayed jeans with a dark blue blazer over a white shirt. Jackson . . . was rocking really tight leather pants. Everyone had tried to talk him out of it, but he refused to wear anything else. Jisoo had at least gotten him to change his mind about wearing a T-shirt that read Muff Master. Not because of what it said, mind you, but because he felt a T-shirt wasn't appropriate for an awards show. Lisa was decked out in black slacks, a white button-up, and a black jacket. Her shirt was open for three or four buttons, and her jacket only had one button that met halfway down her chest. She was both fashionable and sexy as hell. It was hard to take my eyes off of her.

Before heading out into the spotlight, we all gave each other a round of encouragement, support, and gratitude. And then it was showtime.

My nerves evaporated about halfway down the red aisle. It's amazing how fast you get used to people shouting out questions as they snap photos of you. I didn't want to do this all of the time, but every so often wouldn't be so bad. Lisa's smile was seamless, her swagger seductive. No one but me would know that she was freaked out. And I only knew because she had a death grip on my hand. I wasn't sure what she would be more relieved about—winning or not winning. Playing would probably ease her nerves, but unfortunately the band was scheduled to be on stage after their category was up. She would have no reprieve from her anxiety until the moment of truth was over. But, like she did so often for me, I would help her through it.

While we sat through the ceremony, I tried to help her get her mind off of it. We joked about Taehyung and Abby babysitting Gibson over the weekend, about how Abby was going to want to have a baby of her own by Monday. That led to a discussion about which songs the band should play for their wedding ceremony in two days. Abby was a huge fan of "Islands in the Stream," but Lisa refused to cover that song or "Endless Love," which was Abby's backup song.

As the time approached for Lisa's category, she started talking less and fidgeting more. She also started obsessive-compulsively kissing the tattoo of her name on my wrist. It was so bad at one point, I thought she was going to wear away the permanent ink. When the two announcers stepped onstage for the Best New Artist category, Lisa's knee started bouncing up and down. I'd never seen her this frazzled.

Reaching over, I stilled her leg. Eyes wide, she turned to me and whispered, "I'm nervous. I'm really fucking nervous. I never get nervous. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Smiling, I told her, "You're human. And I think it's pretty safe to say that everybody in here is nervous on some level."

As the pair in front of the microphone tried to lighten the mood with really bad comedy, Lisa told me, "You're not nervous."

I stared at Lisa for a few seconds, debating whether or not to tell her something. I'd been planning on waiting 'til all the hoopla had died down, but I knew it would absolutely take her mind off of her nerves. It was going to blow her mind. It had sure blown mine. A short movie started playing clips of the nominated bands. When I heard Lisa's pitch-perfect voice filling the auditorium, I leaned forward and whispered my secret in her ear. Her mouth dropped wide open as she stared at me in shock. Tears filled my eyes as I nodded at her unasked question.

A smile spread over Lisa's face right as the announcers spoke in unison, "And the winner for Best New Artist is . . ." When they paused for dramatic effect, Lisa leaned forward to kiss me. "The D-Bags!"

The room erupted in cheers and applause, but I was sure Lisa hadn't heard a word of it. Grabbing my face, she finished her descent to my lips. The other band members started standing, but Lisa was still sitting in her chair, plastering my face with light kisses. Cognizant of millions of viewers watching this on TV, I pushed her back and urged her to stand up. Her face was exhilarant as she finally did. Evan and Lucas clapped her on the back, urging her forward. I stood with the rest of the girls and clapped as they fumbled their way to the stage. Lisa looked back at me every five seconds, her euphoric face still in disbelief. Whether that was over winning or over my news, I wasn't sure.

The guys climbed up the steps to the stage and exchanged polite hugs with the celebrities who'd announced them. As if on cue, Evan and Lucas stepped back and let Lisa take the microphone; Jackson was subtly restrained by both men with a "supportive" hand on each one of his shoulders. Shaking her head, Lisa clutched her golden gramophone statue as she walked toward the mike

"Oh . . . wow . . . I don't know what to say. I want to thank . . ." her voice broke and the tears in my eyes rolled down my cheeks. Bringing the back of her hand to her mouth, Lisa stopped talking. Shaking her head again, she slowly lowered her hand. "I'm sorry." Her voice warbled with barely contained emotion. "My wife just told me she's pregnant." She had to step back again as the moment overwhelmed her.

People started hollering. The D-Bags jumped on Lisa, congratulating her. Every head in my vicinity swiveled my direction, including my sister's and my girlfriends'. I hadn't told anybody about this yet. I'd really only just found out about it. Last week to be exact. And surprised wouldn't even begin to describe my initial reaction. I was on birth control pills for one thing, so I hadn't even been worried about getting pregnant. I just thought I was late because I was stressed, or excited. A lot of big things had been happening lately. But I just felt . . . weird. I wasn't sick or anything, I just didn't feel normal. I was more tired than I should be, and I alternated between not being hungry and being hungry enough to eat two loaves of bread in one sitting. I'd made an appointment with my doctor just to rule out any illnesses. She'd assured me that I wasn't coming down with Spanish influenza, that I was pregnant.

When I matter-of-factly told the doctor that pregnancy was impossible, since I was a fastidious planner and I'd never missed a birth control pill in my life, she then informed me about a bad batch of pills that had hit the market. Apparently, the pills had been distributed in the packet incorrectly, so the dosages were wrong. Good to know. All of the mislabeled batches had been recalled, but I had apparently hit the birth control jackpot. Our baby was due in September.

While my sister and Somi started quietly grilling me on details, Lisa finally composed herself. Approaching the microphone again, she let out a long exhale. "Well, I can honestly say that this is the best day of my life." When the cheers died down, she told the crowd, "I want to thank every single person who has ever supported us. Your dedication has meant the world, and we wouldn't be here without you. I may be overly emotional right now, since I'm about to be a parent, but I really do love each and every one of you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you."

I couldn't tell from where I was sitting, but I was pretty sure tears were in her eyes when she waved and stepped away from the microphone. I knew this emotional moment was going to be replayed on every show playing Grammy highlights tomorrow. It was going to be talked about on every radio station. It was going to be mentioned around every water cooler. And for once, I was glad. I wanted this moment to live on. I wanted to be constantly reminded of this memory. I wanted to replay this video in twenty years so I could remember the look on her face when Lisa found out she was going to be a parent. And I wanted to show it to our son or daughter—so they would know, without a doubt, that they were loved. From day one, they were loved.