Page 77 of The Music of Us
Like at the end of a date? I eyed him. “Are you sure you’re thebad boyof the group? Maybe it’s an autocorrect done by your marketing team and they meant to label you as the tokenbrunetinstead.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Humor me.”
Agreeably, I walked to my door with Jake beside me, then put my key into the lock.
Or I tried to. Then I missed.
Two more times.
Jake knew better than to ask me to hand my keys over. But after another failed attempt, he carefully put his hand over mine, helped guide the key into the lock, and then gently turned it.
Soft heart, sharp jawline, my mind chirped helpfully.
Ugh. Shut up, brain. I wasnevertaking my allergy meds without food again.
Jake followed me inside, though he kept his distance. “I just want to make sure you get to the couch and don’t pass out in the middle of the floor.”
“That’s very southernly mannered of you, but I’m fine,” I stated, taking several more steps to prove my point and delicately sitting down on the couch. “You’re watching me walk how I used to watch Mom after her accident.”
Jake looked like I just pulled a knife on him. “What?”
Oh, right. He didn’t know how hard all of that was. The medicine made me forget. Distractedly, I studied the cheap linoleum floor. Had that fake wood pattern always looked like a Siamese cat doing the hokey pokey or was that a new thing?
“Her car crash,” I found myself saying. Actually, I think the Siamese might be doing the samba. “You’re seeing Mom when she’s already healed some. But she was really bad for a while there, Jake. She still has to go to PT every week.” Mom’s truth bomb from this morning hit me again and I frowned. “All the money went toward her medical stuff, which is why there’s nothing left for the café.” I groaned, putting my head in my hands for a moment, before looking up at him, glassy-eyed. “So thislivestream really needs to work. Or else the whole ship is going down. Under my watch. That’s why I didn’t want to leave.”
Jake looked like I’d now stuck the knife in him andtwisted. He swore quietly under his breath.
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” I gave a mirthless chuckle as I fell back against the cushions. “I’m not sure why you even care, though.”
Jake looked stricken. “Why wouldn’t I care?”
“Maybe because you’re only here because your manager told you to be. And, oh, I don’t know, maybe because you kissed me and then ran away.” The scene replayed in my head again. Him leaning in. The brush of his lips against mine, soft and fast and filling me with sparks, like I’d just caught lightning in a bottle. Had it just been an impulse decision? A way to say goodbye that he didn’t quite think through? “Did the kiss mean nothing to you? Did everything between us that came before the kiss even mean anything to you either?”
“Lucy,” Jake said, and I could hear footsteps coming over to me, shock dripping from his voice. “Of course it did.”Did. Past tense. What a tricky, gut-twisting way to phrase things. “I swear, I didn’t—”
“Mean to break my heart? Yeah. I get it. Side effects may vary and all that.” I sighed. “Can’t believe you never answered my texts, though.”
“Your texts?”
“Oh, you know.” I waved my hand. “The ones I sent you.”
“Lucy,” Jake said again, more urgently, although he never raised his voice at me. That was nice. “What texts?”
Another wave of dreamlike lightheadedness hit me, making my eyes feel heavy. I didn’t want to rehash the past and all thethings I said to him only to be left on Read. Running my hands over my face, I flopped back against the couch, too tired to fight or stay awake.
“Lucy, I swear, I never—” Jake cut himself off, before blinking, stunned, like he’d just gotten an electric jolt. “Wait, does this mean you never got my trinkets?”
Or, at least, that’s what I thought he said. I furrowed my eyebrows.
“Trinkets?” I mouthed.
“Tickets,” Jake repeated, enunciating carefully. But my allergy-medication-laden mind was still hooked ontrinkets. I’d seen some US knickknacks and random merchandise for sale before. They even had some candy dispensers that were slightly disturbing. I shuddered at the memory. “Did you get US tickets?”
Eyes watering, I sneezed hard, my head lurching forward and rattling my two remaining brain cells around in my brain. “Why would I get US tickets?”
I definitely couldn’t afford those. Not now. Weren’t they sold out, anyway?
“Because—” Jake paused, taking me in, concern filling his eyes before they went soft. I watched, fascinated. I could visiblyseethem soften and get crinkly at the corners. In this light, his eyes were the color of when coffee blended with cream, all pretty and warm. “Never mind, you look like you need some rest first. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? We can talk about it later.”
