Page 50 of Drive
“Jacques, please believe me.” Her voice dropped, and in spite of himself, whatever she’d say next, he knew he’d believe. “I was going to call you last Saturday right after the show, but then things with Holi went absolutely crazy, and everything else had to be sweptaside.”
He didn’t know Rainey all that well, but he still found himself believingher.
“Okay,” he said, blowing out a breath. “What would you havesaid?”
“I would have said,” she began without hesitation, “that the show was amazing, and that your new songs were beautiful songs, and that I didn’t deserve to hearthem.”
Her admission surprised him, but she was wrong. She did deserve to hear his new songs. He hadn’t written them for anyoneelse.
“And why would you have said you didn’t deserve to hear them?” he asked carefully. Jacques heard regret in her voice, and even her attempt to explain was already soothing him. In the days he’d tried to reach her, he had felt himself twisted into tight knots. Writing her songs had eased some of that, but he didn’t recognize until now that a part of him still braced against thattension.
But as she spoke, he felt a give in his middle that had been missing forweeks.
“Because I tried to pull away from you without a word,” she whispered. Guilt. Regret. Sadness. Loss. All of those lived in hervoice.
“Why?” he whisperedback.
“I… I think I’m too embarrassed toexplain.”
His eyebrows rose. “Well, what if I promised not to laugh?” He felt a little lighter now, and he wanted her to feellighter.
“Maybe I should be,” she said, and he was sure he heard a smile in her lilting voice. “But I’m not worried about you laughing atme.”
“Whatareyou worried about, Rainey?” Jacques shut his eyes on the question. It felt so good to say hername.
Her laugh was mirthless. “That you’ll think I’m crazy. Presumptuous.Ridiculous.”
He opened his eyes and stared unseeing into the Crawford’s pool. Instead, all he could picture was her. “Ah, so, you decided to pull back before I had the chance to,right?”
“No… no, not really,” Rainey said. “But I’d be lying if self-preservation wasn’t mymotive.”
Self-preservation? Was she afraid he would hurt her? The irony seemed unfathomable, considering how he’d driven himself mad the last fewweeks.
“I promise I won’t think you’re crazy or presumptuous or ridiculous,” he vowed. “Pleaseexplain.”
Her sweet sigh came over the line. In his mind’s eye, he could see the corner of her raspberry lip caught between her teeth. Moments that had been lost to him — the shade of her lipstick, her quick, light step as she walked, the almost translucent skin on the inside of her wrists — came back to himnow.
God, I’ve missed you,he wanted to say, but he already felt enough like a fool. He wasn’t supposed to miss her. They’d only had a handful of days together. It was hardly enough time to grow anything that could bemissed.
And yet hedid.
“Jacques, you know you’re going places,right?”
“What?” He frowned. What the hell was she talkingabout?
Another sigh. “I mean you and Heroine are going to be big. Soon. I know what I’m talking about. I knew it the moment I saw you play together at Artmosphere,” she said, her voice resonating with truth and conviction. “You have it. You have the magic everybody wants. Everyone’s going to know yourname.”
Hearing her say it — hearing her affirm what he so desperately hoped would be true — felt like Christmasmorning.
“That would be great,” he muttered, grinning in spite of himself. “But that’s a longshot.”
“No, itisgreat,” she insisted. “It’s already happening. You can’t tell me you haven’t realizedit.”
Jacques shrugged to himself. “Yeah, I mean things are going really well,” headmitted.
“They’ll keep going well. You’ll see. And I’m so happy for you, Jacques,” she said, and he heard the warmth there in her voice. It felt real and deep and sincere. “I just see everything so clearly, and I know where you are going, there’s no place for someone likeme.”
“Wait, what areyou—”
