Page 111 of The Music of Us
Jake let out a breath, like he’d been holding it. “Yeah, better.”
“So,” I prompted, “what did you want to tell me?”
“Oh, right,” he said, shaking his head. Turning the song off must’ve made him less nervous, because his accent disappeared entirely. His voice sounded like the one he used in interviews again. “I just wanted to say that...”
Jake trailed off, sending a very long look toward the speaker I’d just turned off. Then he looked back at me.
My heart pounded. This was it. Thishadto be it.
“I’m really glad we’re friends again,” he finished.
What?
I deflated. I’d been so sure Jake was going to say something else to me—somethingmore.
I thought Jake liked me.Liked me, liked me.
I took a stilted, stuttering breath in, watching him watch me, waiting for my reply.
“Friends,” I repeated, to test him and make sure that’s what he really meant.
“Yeah,” Jake said slowly. My heart sank. “Your friendship means a lot to me. I’m glad I got you back.”
Ouch.
I swallowed hard, working to control my emotions before I let my heartbreak splash across my face.
Jake had never been good at expressing his feelings, but I hadn’t had a problem reading them when we were younger. But somewhere along the way, I must have lost that talent, because now I had no idea.
I couldn’t even tell he was not into me.
I forced a smile onto my face, hoping it hid my pain.
“Yeah,” I agreed. What mattered was that I got him back, right? That was the important thing. We were Lucy and Jake against the world, in whatever way that was. “I’m so glad we’re friends again too.”
Jake watched me carefully. “I knew you’d feel that way.”
Something undecipherable shimmered in Jake’s eyes, but before I could begin to decode the emotion, he pulled me in for a hug, quick and sudden, like he knew he had to move before either of us thought better of it.
He wrapped his arms around me and my eyes fluttered shut as I sank into his touch. I took a deep breath, letting my senses flood with everything that made him up: The warmth and the gentleness of the way he held me. The scent of his guitar that held traces of intoxicating sweetness and spice. The smooth leather jacket beneath the brush of my palms.
I pulled away first.
“I really am glad you’re back in my life, Luciana,” Jake said, stepping back and taking me in, like he was trying to memorize me before he had to say goodbye.
“Me too,” I said. “I won’t lose you a second time.”
Then the Uber pulled up out front, and I watched Jake Moody leave again.
Chapter Thirty
Jake: When it comes to talking, I’ve always been bad at getting the words out, but I like studying songwriting and hearing people’s favorite songs. I think songs can tell you what someone’s really trying to say.
Interviewer: And what are you trying to say with “Lovely, Aren’t Ya”?
Jake: [Pause] Can we cut to commercial?
—Morning Glory Talk Showtranscript
