But it had been Lucky all along. Shame burned through me and I moved away from him, browsing through the clothes, my hands shaking. The exhilaration from the scooter ride was completely gone now, and I was standing here in some vintage shop with a guy who had lied to me all day.
“Lucky,” he said. The name was new and unfamiliar coming from him and I hated hearing him say it.
I stared hard at the rack of sweaters. “I want to murder you right now.”
He stilled. “Okay. Fair.”
I flipped through the sweaters with a viciousness that the frumpy wool cardigans didn’t deserve. “I feel stupid and betrayed.” My voice was quiet, barely heard above the music.
His hands stopped mine from flipping through the hangers. “Don’t feel stupid. I was lying to you. That’s not your fault.”
I looked at his hands. Part of me wanted to snatch mine away in a huff. But another part of me felt soothed by his touch and I was irritated by it.
“You’re a good liar.”
“So are you,” he said.
That got an involuntary smile from me. “Yeah, I am, right? That’s what happens when you’re…”
“Famous?”
It was kind of embarrassing to say out loud. “Yeah.” Then I looked at him, hard. “I can’t trust you anymore.”
He flinched. “I understand. But Lucky, I… I like you. Those feelings are real. Even if you can’t trust anything else.”
It was something people said in movies a lot. And as a viewer you were on their side, like, oh my they got themselves indeepwith this but we know they love each other! Screw it all and throw caution to the wind and love him back!
But when you’re on the other side of that? Nothing’s that clear.
I shook my head. “I don’t know if it makes up for it.”
He moved his hand from mine and ran it over his face. Which was pale and drawn. “It’s not an excuse. It’s… the truth.”
We stood there staring at the clothes, silent. Tension hung in theair as some old Céline Dion ballad filled the store. The earnest love song totally at odds with what Jack and I were going through.
“Tell me one thing,” I finally said. “Did you agree to hang out with me because you knew who I was? Would you have suggested it if I was just Fern?” My voice shook as I looked up at him. Meeting his eyes, wanting to get to the heart of all of it.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
JACK
I knew it was the main reason why I decided to spend the day with her. But I was attracted to her from the moment we met, if I was being honest. K-pop star or no, I brought her to my place because there was something between us. I had felt concerned about her but also curious. As a guy.
So I told the one truth. “I don’t know.”
She let out a breath in frustration, but something seemed to ease in her posture.
Watching Lucky get swarmed like that had done something to me. The protectiveness I had felt over her today—as this celebrity who would get me what I wanted—had shifted into something else.
“The thing is, until I saw you get mobbed, I wasn’t fully aware of what it actually meant for you to be this K-pop star.” I took a breath, feeling myself tense up at the memory of it again. “I found out lastnight, yeah, but I don’t listen to K-pop. No offense, but I’m not familiar with your music or fandom or anything.”
That earned a shadow of a smile from her. “And when I saw you stuck in that crowd, I felt fear. Like a real fear that I haven’t felt in so long. I wanted to…” This was going to be embarrassing and I looked down to say the words. “I wanted to be the one to save you.”
Her silence went on forever. I felt myself drowning in it. Realizing that I had messed up. She wasn’t going to let it go.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
LUCKY