I nod and watch him head back down the driveway. He doesn’t say anything else as he gets in his boss’s car.
“Hey, AJ.”
He sticks his head out the window.
“Thanks, man.”
23. BETTER
Cassie
I don’t know if Jake’s in the audience. I tell myself I don’t care. I do, but in the end, it doesn’t matter.
I start off with classics. I like to get people in the mood with something familiar. Something up-tempo, then a ballad. Then, this new one.
I’m terrified, as in I may well puke on the stage. Adrenaline goes through me. I’ve put a piece of my soul into this music. And I made it myself. It’s the first song I’ve finished, and I’ve tried about a million times.
I wrote the song after the first time Jake and I were intimate. It came out first as a drop and then as a flood, pouring onto the page until I had no choice but to finish. I’m actually sort of proud of it, because no matter whether anybody loves it or not, I know I wrote it from a place that matters.
My fingers tingle when they brush the ridged metal of the strings, and I hear myself start, my voice floating over the crowd at Joe’s.
I was always cold
I was always tired
I was always scared
Until your touch like fire
Whispered words on skin
Kisses in the dark
Let me breathe you in
Tell me your desires
By the time I finish, I’m shaky. Good shaky. Just-finished-a-long-jog shaky.
When I pack my guitar and slip offstage, I see Dante and AJ. I get a grin and a high five from the first and a hug from the other. It isn’t until I’m headed toward the back that I see Jake. He’s leaning casually against the wall with a small smile nudging at his lips.
I start to walk past, to pretend I didn’t see him, but he goes for my arm. Not a hard grab. In spite of everything, Jake would never hurt me.
“I loved the song.”
I hug him hard and my heart beats faster against his chest. “Thanks.”
“My dad’s at a table on the back patio.”
My eyebrows draw together. I’m confused, but then I realize. “You got in touch with your dad. That’s great.” I reach up to touch his face without even thinking, but feel awkward when I pull away.
Whatever we’d been that night we shared secrets under the stars together, or the night in my room at the Grove Inn when he’d touched me like I was special... Even whatever we were that first night I’d kissed him. We aren’t those things to each other any longer, are we?
It’s what makes me think it might be better to just go, honestly—constantly seeing him and having to remember he’s not mine. We were together a short time, but that time was intense. Like I keep thinking, he’s set the standard. If I can’t have him, I’ll hold out for another guy who makes my breath go thready. Even if I’m holding out forever.
“Thanks. But...” He points to the patio. “Before you leave, I’d really like you to talk to him. Mariana came clean, he said. She’s moving out. I want you to hear it from him.”
“Jake.” I rest my guitar case against the bar, sighing with guilt. “I do believe you. I did believe you. I was only trying to point out to her that her supposed leverage made her a criminal, if it was true. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah. It does. I hated the idea of you thinking that about me, that was all. You were the only person who’d seen past the bullshit.” He smiled. “I’d still like you to meet my dad.” He tugged my arm, only a little. “I really want you to stay, Cassie. Can we start this over again?”
I let him pull me into his arms this time, let whatever person who passes by bump me from behind, tossing me against Jake in the crowded bar. It was okay. I had me. I had him. We were both safe.
“I want to stay, too. I like it here. I think you and I both need to work on the thing with the words and the talking, though.”
He nods. “No arguments. Just about lost my shit when I saw you with your ex. That was him, right? With the ring? Please tell me you’re not marrying him.”
I shake my head against his chest. “No. We broke up for reasons. Lots of them. I want you. I love you.”
He looks down, and his eyes glitter in the low bar lights. The smile on his face widens as he tightens his hold on my hand. “I love you too, Cass. And I’m so sorry. I kept telling myself this thing with us was too good to work out, so I made it true. I fucked up.”
“Kind of. Or I did. We both could have done things better.” I kiss him, hardly caring any more. I don’t want to go down the road of assigning blame. “What matters is that we do it differently in the future.”