One Song Away (5 page)

Chapter Six

After the door closes behind my parents, I stand in the middle of my kitchen for a long moment. The quiet settles around me long after they’ve likely driven away, but I can’t stop staring at my apartment, letting it all sink in. It’s
mine
. They applied for the spot with me, but it’s my name on the lease. I’ve never had a place that’s my own to decorate or trash, mine to make into a home.

I laugh aloud just because I can. Then I hook my phone into my speakers and start the first fast country song I see. This calls for a dance party.

After I shake my hips, warming up, I get into the song, really lose myself in the melody and the fiddle. At some point, I start belting out the chorus, and then I don’t stop singing. It’s not the embarrassed singing you do in the car with your friends because you’re too shy to let them hear you. It’s loud and proud, and I don’t hold it back as I move around my kitchen. I’m showing the countertops moves I didn’t even think I had. For once, I’m not worrying if my butt is too big or if I look silly. I’m having the time of my life.

I’m breathless with my new freedom.

Until the sound of applause interrupts my moment.

Shrieking, I turn toward the door. The
open
door. My heart is doing something akin to a samba by the time I register that it isn’t an intruder creeping on my impromptu dance. It’s Jake, who obviously came in because I didn’t close the door entirely earlier.

I press a hand to my heart. “You scared the crap out of me!” He steps into my apartment and closes the door slowly behind him. The light glints in his eyes and highlights his stubble. There’s a day’s worth of scruff along his jaw. Who knew he could make the unshaven look seem so…hot? And somehow he’s managing to make a backwards baseball cap look sexy. Man, he just doesn’t play fair.

“You know, you gotta lock the door when you’re home alone.” He takes a step closer to me. Is it my imagination or are his eyes darkening? Does that happen in real life?

“Why’s that?” I raise my brows. I know I’m playing a dangerous game, but when I’m around him, I can’t help it. I can tell myself that I’m ready for this all I want, but the truth is, I’m not. My reactions to Coop are too strong. Sloane already cautioned me last night, but clearly I didn’t listen.

“Someone could just barge in,” Jake says. When he advances on me, his eyes lock on mine. “And…”

Without meaning to, I retreat slowly. “And what?”

Jake closes the space between us and takes my hand. His is warm as it swallows mine. I take a breath that’s more like a gasp, just as he puts his other arm around my back and dips me. I slam my eyes shut and yelp because I expect to hit the floor, but I don’t. Instead, I’m suspended in Jake’s arms; when I open my eyes, his lips are so close to mine. I stare at his mouth, memorizing the shape all over again.

“And do this.” Jake’s warm breath caresses my face.

I could kiss him if I wanted—could claim that I'm practicing for the family dinner. I could finally know what it’s like to kiss Jake Cooper, if his mouth fits as perfectly on mine as I’ve imagined. I could loop my arms around his neck and breathe him in until I’m dizzy. It wouldn’t take long.

But I don’t. “Well, I’ll keep an eye out for the dancing marauders,” I say. I follow it with a gurgling cough-laugh I can’t prevent. The moment shrinks and disappears like a popped balloon. “I should have plenty of time to escape while they’re busting moves.”

He pulls me to a standing position, shaking his head. “You’re such a smart-ass, Claire.”

“Everyone needs a talent, Coop.” I bow in his direction with a flourish, but I can’t do it without cracking up. The laughter feels good, soothing, after such an intense moment. I don’t know him well enough anymore to know if he was just getting into his role or if there was more happening. I do know
myself
well enough to know I can’t let myself hope. Hope is dangerous when it comes to him.

When he sobers, he gestures around the room. “So why don’t you show me this apartment?”

It’s just a one-bedroom, so a tour won’t take long, but I oblige him. The apartment is about as nice as one could expect for a first place. It’s in a newer complex in a good neighborhood, and the manager seemed decent. Between what was already here, and my belongings, the place won’t feel empty once I’m settled.

I show Jake the kitchen, living room, and my bedroom. I try not to blush at the queen-sized bed I brought out of storage. It’s the only furniture in the room so far, and suddenly it looks huge.

Once we’re back where we started, I eye the mountain of boxes Dad and Wes moved in earlier, and then glance at Jake. “Now you see what all there is to open. Plus Dad left the trailer outside with my kitchen table, chairs, and so forth.”

Sloane and I turned the thrift stores in town inside out this morning and found mostly everything I needed. None of it is fancy, except the bed, which was my grandmother’s. We joked about it being my statement piece, but we didn’t talk about Jake. Much. She could tell I’m committed to this ruse, that I’m going to see it through because I think at this point, backing out would do more damage than letting it play out as it will.

“Okay.” He squares his shoulders. “Let’s get to work.”

For the rest of the morning, that’s what we do. Jake hauls in what he can, and we work together to move in the couch Mama gave me. Jake growls playfully at me when I ask him to move it to two different spots in the living room, but he does what I ask. We work together on anything heavy, though he shows off a few times, refusing to let me help. I get to ogle his muscles though, so I don’t mind. While he’s being all macho, I work on sorting boxes.

Slowly, the apartment starts to come together. I tell him I can handle everything in the bedroom, and smack his arm for the leer my remark produces. We work on unpacking dishes and the like in the kitchen, then move to the living room. Jake tries to “help” me put my books on my small bookshelf, but when he puts everything in the wrong place, I chase him away to make a food run.

While he’s gone, I fix my bookshelf, and then turn my attention to my bedroom. When I go through the boxes and find my intimates, I blush at the thought of Jake seeing my bras or panties. No one has in a month or so, and even though I
want
someone to see them at some point soon,
this
isn’t exactly what I imagined.

As I’m hanging clothes in my closet, I finally feel calm. Thanks to today, I’m starting to remember the friendship Jake and I had before I moved and how, despite my pesky unrequited love, we always got along so well. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed
us
. I never let myself think about him when I was gone, but now I can’t believe I went so many years without him in my life. Even though the circumstances are wacky, I’m glad we’re getting to know each other again.

Then I hurry to answer the sudden knock at the door. Jake has my egg rolls, and I’m not taking any chances on him getting hungry and eating them.

___ ___ ___

“You’re rememberin’ it all wrong,” Jake says, pointing his fork at me. “You were the one who insisted I break into Bobby’s truck.”

I shake my head at him, laughing. “No, no. I said he still had my jacket and
you
said you’d get it back for me.”

Jake shrugs. “I still say it was your idea, but the best part was the look on his face when you showed up at school in that damn jacket.” He chuckles, polishing off his sesame chicken.

Sitting back in my chair, I study him from under my eyelashes. Has it really only been a few days since he came back into my life? I’ve laughed more today than I have in ages. Despite the nervous butterflies currently floating in my stomach, I’m
happy
. I know being around him won’t magically fix everything. I still have to build savings, I still need to establish roots here, and I’m still not okay with having left Nash—but having Coop back in my life is a start.

“So.” He puts down his silverware. “Now that I’ve been your slave for most of the day—”

“Hey, you
wanted
to come over,” I protest, rolling my eyes at him.

“Willing, I might add…” He smiles, and his eyes do that thing where they crinkle at the corners. I try to remain objective, but it’s damn difficult. “I think we need to talk about this pretend relationship.”

The butterflies in my stomach decide to try their hand at acrobatics, and I swallow, hard. “Talk about it how?”

“Well.” Jake clears his throat. “You said you want me with you at this family dinner, then we’ll go from there. I, being the kind person that I am, agreed.” He grins. “But you know...we need to actually act like a couple.”

My throat is dust-dry. When I try to speak, I can only let out a croaking sound. “So we need to have our story straight.”

Nodding, Jake spears a bit of egg roll off my plate, effortlessly dodging the piece of sweet and sour chicken I throw at him. “Yeah, or else we won’t really pass muster.” He swallows, scooting his chair closer to mine. Before I can react, he reaches for my hand, and I feel a flush snaking up my throat. “See, you can’t do that.”

“What, I can’t
blush
now?” I glare at him.

He smiles really slowly at me. Tufts of hair are sticking out from under his cap. He suddenly seems like the boy I left behind. “Oh you can. In fact, I like making you blush.” He winks at me. “But your mama and dad will think it’s odd if you flush every time I get near you.”

He’s right.
Dammit
. I need to seem like I’m used to casual touches. I try to breathe and relax into his warmth, but it’s like trying to nonchalantly walk a tightrope. It’s just not possible to do. All I can feel is Jake’s hand in mine, and the soft stroke of his fingers on the back of my free hand. He’s touched me like this before; in another lifetime, we used to cuddle from time to time while we watched movies. But this feels different, because
we’re
different.

I breathe out, a slow exhalation that doesn’t make me feel any less jittery. “Okay. It’s just been a little while since anyone…” Right now, I want to choke myself if only to put an end to my misery. “It’s been a few months since I broke up with my last boyfriend.”
Please get it, Coop. Don’t make me spell it out.

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyebrows rise and he moves his fingers to my arm, dancing them along my skin. When I don’t pull away, his hand tightens in mine. I hope my palms aren’t sweating right now, but it’ll be a miracle if they aren’t.

“So you can…you know.” Words. There are words I should be saying, but I can’t seem to find ones that make
sense
. “Touch me I mean.”

Finally, Jake focuses on me, but I almost wish he hadn’t, because being the sole object of his gaze is enough to fluster me.

“I plan to, sweetheart.” He grins, showing me his even, white teeth. They’re perfect, except for one small chip in his front tooth. “After all, it’s not every day I get this chance.” He leans closer to me. “You can touch me too, Claire.” He’s so totally in my space that I can barely breathe.

“I can?” By some miracle, my voice remains even. Apparently there
is
a God.

“Oh yes.” Jake guides my free hand to his shoulder. I can feel his shirt under my skin, and my entire world narrows to the muscle in his arm that jumps when I move my fingers to his bicep. “In fact, I encourage it. For practice and research.”

“Research, hmm?” Tentatively, I trail my fingers down his arm. When I hear a breath leave him in a whoosh, I lay my free hand on his thigh, meeting his hooded gaze. I know I need to do something to take the power back in the situation, even though I’m not sure I know
how
. Truth is, I could drift here forever on Cloud Nine and never want to leave, but I said I’d keep my heart out of this.

Our chests touch when I lean into him, and his eyes widen slightly. We’re as close now as we were when he dipped me earlier. Smiling, I move my lips to his ear. “Coop?” He lets out a strangled sound. “Dream on.”

Chapter Seven

It’s just a coffeehouse.

I breathe out and press my palms against my cheeks. I remind myself for the third time tonight that I agreed to this job. No one forced me into this situation. It’s up to me to fail or succeed, and if I walk in there believing I’ll fail, then I will. If I walk in with my head held high, determined to kick ass and take names, the outcome will be good. Whatever happens tonight, I determine the results.

With a final deep breath, I push open the door to the breakroom and stroll down the hallway. A glance around the corner tells me that Freshly Ground is packed tonight. Some folks are probably here for the coffee and pastries, while others are starting to arrive for karaoke. I shudder. I can’t believe I’m working in a karaoke bar. I’ve been in a few in Nashville, and I’ve even heard some good singers. I’ve also heard
way
too many amazing songs butchered.

Knowing I can’t stall any longer though, I head into the main room. I spent a day learning how to use the various equipment, but I still doubt my ability to make anything other than the simplest drinks. I’m nervous, even after tutorials from Jake, and two nights shadowing Sasha, Brenna, and Mina, the other baristas. I Googled common drinks and recipes until my eyeballs feel drunk, but there’s no way to know what will happen until I actually try.

After pulling my apron over my head, I tie it around my waist. Mina is already behind the bar getting
everything ready. I study her for a moment. She moves with the kind of grace I’m jealous of, and can only hope to replicate tonight. She’s been so welcoming. I hope she still is if I spaz out tonight. Both she and Brenna trained me well, and we’ve all already exchanged cell numbers. Brenna texted me earlier to tell me she knew I was going to do well. I feel very welcome here, but I hope I don’t disappoint anyone.

With my tattoos, piercings, and tendency to blurt out what I’m thinking, I know I’m not your average, everyday barista, but I’m a hard worker, and I’m determined to prove it.

“SC!” Mina flags me down, a smile on her pretty features. She’s the kind of beautiful that could almost make me feel insecure, if I weren’t confident in myself. Worse, she’s the kind of beautiful person who isn’t even the least bit arrogant about it. She’s self-possessed and witty, and I think I’m a bit in awe of her.

Crossing the room, I wave at her in greeting. She’s filling the case with cakes, pies, and cookies, so I do what I can. I fumble around awkwardly before I finally manage to fill the biscotti container.

“You doing okay?”

“I’m nervous.” I roll my neck back and forth hoping to relieve some of the tension, but I’m not sure it actually helps. “I’ve waitressed but never actually
made
anything.”

Mina leans against the bar. It’s early, so no one is ordering anything yet, and we have a few moments to ourselves. She locks her blue-sky-day eyes on me, and when I don’t see anything but kindness there, it’s enough to help my next breath come a bit easier.

“My first gig was a disaster,” she says. “I was bartending in Virginia, and I had no idea what I was doing.

“I know you’re just trying to make me feel better…”

“I dropped an entire bottle of Grey Goose.” She frowns. I cringe. “Yeah, it was just as bad as you’re thinking. I didn’t get fired, but
only
because they seriously needed someone.” She giggles. “That was a few years and a few towns ago. Point is, everyone is nervous at a new job, especially a fast-paced one like this.”

“Thanks, Mina.” I give her a real smile, not the thin ones I’ve been hiding behind lately. “I really appreciate it. I’m still thrown from moving back here, and I think my confidence in well, everything, is kinda shaken.”

She hooks her blond hair behind her ears and holds out her fist for a bump. “No worries, SC. You’re gonna be great.” I fist-bump with her, hoping she’s right.

Mina takes inventory of the supplies while I finish stocking the cups and glasses. It’s weird, being on this side of a bar, even if we only serve coffee. The last and only time this happened, it was after closing and I was kissing a bartender. Somehow, I
doubt
tonight will end the same way.

I don’t have time to wonder about what tonight holds for long though, because the crowd arrives. The volume in the room goes up with the amount of people, some who arrive solo, and others in small groups. I stand with Mina and watch, and for a moment it’s all I can do not to gawk.

If I thought I’d left diverse folks behind in Nash, I was wrong. There’s a guy in black eyeliner talking to the DJ, and two girls who are obviously together. I see several college-type preppy guys, and a group of businesswomen in pearls and chignons. A throng of teen girls has claimed one table, while teen guys are holding court at another. Then there’s the group of friends putting two tables together while they write down their songs, a few families, and two older couples. They’re all as different as night and day but here they are, in a coffee shop, brought together by karaoke of all things.

Blinking, I grin. I think I’m going to be okay.

___ ___ ___

Three hours later, I feel half-insane, but totally euphoric at the same time. I’ve made almost all the drink orders on my own, with Mina’s help only a few times. I made two orders wrong, but luckily the two women understood. They’re currently singing something twangy from a years ago and having the time of their lives, so all’s well that ends well.

I hand Guyliner his frappe and step back from the bar. Mina is on break and at the moment, we don’t have any customers. I’ve enjoyed the rush, because it’s kept me busy and hasn’t allowed me time to doubt myself. I’ve just chosen to dive in, and so far, it’s gone okay. Jake passed through twice and stopped to talk for a few seconds once, but for the most part, he’s been scarce.

Surveying the scene, I smile. The women are finished with their song, and they exit the stage in a flurry of laughter. Everyone is in high spirits; I guess the combination of caffeine and karaoke is a good one.

The DJ calls out the next song and three names. I giggle to myself as a few of the high school guys take the stage. They don’t know all the words, but they give it a good try. They all play air drums or guitar during the solo, and generally have a good time.

As I watch them, it hits me how recently I was their age. Now I’m fumbling my way through the “real world” and it’s nothing like I pictured. I’m not married like my parents hoped I’d be, and I don’t have an amazing career. I haven’t seen the world. I’m really not sure where I’m headed, but I’m catching my breath and then leaping forward. I’m alive, and I have at least tonight to figure out this whole adult thing. It’s a start.

“You’re way too deep in thought for a Friday night.” Mina’s voice startles me and I face her, blinking. “Crack a smile, chica.”

“Sorry.” I shake my head and my hair tumbles out of the baby ponytail I wrestled it into earlier. I sigh and fix it, then wash my hands. “Okay, let’s get back to it.”

Mina and I dive back in, cleaning counters, filling orders, and people watching. I make macchiatos, frappes, cappuccino, and other drinks I’ve never even heard of over the next few hours. We sell out of the divine chocolate cheesecake I was hoping to buy a piece of, and I hear the same song done by a girl, Guyliner, and two bikers. I burn my hand making an espresso, and Mina rips a hole in the butt of her pants.

By one a.m., we’re both exhausted. All I’ve had to eat or drink is the salad I scarfed down before I came to work, and a few sips of now-cold coffee. I moan under my breath when we’re done cleaning and we finally sit down. Mina and I both sigh at the same time, and then burst out laughing.

“We did it.” I stop fighting the yawn my body is producing.

“You sure did.” Jake saunters out of his office and over to us. We’re the only three left, and truth be told, I’m not sure how I’m even still awake. Jake, hair rumpled, gives me a wink. “I knew you were going to be great, Claire.”

“Thanks,” I say. “It was crazy, but also sorta…fun.”

Mina snorts. “Fun? Wait until you’ve done it for six months.” She lets down her hair, shaking it out. “I’m insane for doing this week after week.” Jingling her car keys, she stands. “I’m going home to get some rest. I’ll see you crazy people tomorrow.”

“Night, Mina!” She raises a hand in a wave, and then she’s gone.

Jake locks the door and walks over to me, sitting on the table adjacent to mine. “You were awesome tonight.” He runs a hand through his hair, somehow making it look sexily disheveled.
Dammit.

“Thanks.” I clear my throat because I sound raspy. We haven’t really been alone together since our “touching” conversation, and I’m not sure how to act. I want to start
some
kind of conversation, but I have no idea where to start. Do I make a joke? Should I just throw myself at him?

Okay, so probably
not
that last one.

“I think we should kiss.”

I look up so fast that I’m fairly sure I have whiplash. He gives me an innocent look and I glare at him. “What?” I take my hair out of the ponytail and the freed strands float to my shoulders. “Did you say we should kiss?”

Jake nods, but for some reason, he seems fixated on my hair. My eyes stray to his lips, and I frown. I can’t say I haven’t thought about it. Couples are affectionate and steal kisses. If we don’t hold hands or give each other a quick kiss, we won’t sell this couple thing. And I’ll be on a blind date with Mr. Double Major in Accounting and Boring faster than I can blink.

“O-okay.”

“Okay?” Jake shoots me an unreadable look.

“I said okay, didn’t I?” I stand, hands on my hips. “You’re not making this very romantic at all. You’re a
horrible
fake boyfriend.” I try to sound teasing, but there’s something in my voice I can’t define. I’m curious and I’m afraid. What if I kiss Jake and I don’t like it? What if we don’t have
any
chemistry?

What if we
do
?

There’s a reckless smile tugging at his mouth. “That so?” He takes three steps and he’s in front of me. When I breathe in, I smell his cologne. I’m stretched taut enough to snap in two when I face him.

“Yeah.” I smirk at him, moving closer. “That’s so.” I imitate his drawl. “In fact, you’re—”

Jake covers my mouth with his, and my words go as transparent as smoke. One of his arms is around my waist, and he’s cupping my cheek with the other. His fingers press against my skin, and before I can remind myself this is a bad, bad idea, I step into him and open my mouth. It’s not even worth trying to pretend I’m not
just
as into this kiss as he is. Not when his hand presses into the small of my back, urging me even closer. Not when his lips move against mine as though he’s the only one who’s ever kissed me.

Since I’m already melded against Jake’s chest, I go all in. I wrap my arms around his neck at the same time I touch my tongue to his, and he makes a very male, very appreciative noise. When he eases one thigh between my legs, I let him tangle us together, because I’ve waited too long for this to do anything else.

I’ve kissed more guys than I can count, but the way Jake kisses me is confident, his hand never leaving my face. It’s a complete turn-on. His mouth is hard and then soft on mine, changing by the second, and I can only go with him and try to hold my own. He bites my upper lip gently and I moan into his mouth. When he turns me, I bump into a chair. It scrapes across the floor, and like dreamers jerking awake, we separate.

His eyes are wide, and in the dim lights left on, the gold and brown in those eyes are battling for dominance. I press a hand to my chest, even though I can already tell my heart is thrumming. I’m out of breath, and I have no idea what to say. I just kissed Coop. And it was…

“That was intense.” His voice breaks slightly on the last syllable. He’s quiet for a few seconds, but then he shakes his head, his face animated. “We’re definitely going to pull off this couple thing.”

Fuck. My. Life. He thought it was all an act? The kiss felt damn real to
me
. It was intense, like he said. It was hot…and it was all pretend for
him
. Clearly,
I
got way too lost in the moment. I’m going to have to find some way of keeping that from happening again.

I nod, quickly gathering my things. “For sure.” I laugh, but it’s an octave higher than normal, and sounds like a needle screeching on a record, to me at least. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake.”

Then I run away before he can notice how rattled I am.

So much for keeping my heart out of it.