One Song Away (8 page)

Chapter Twelve

“I’m happy we did this. Seeing you at Freshly Ground isn’t enough.” Jake grins at me.

Am I still anchored to the ground? Or am I floating toward the ceiling, drunk on his words? I want to tell him I live for our stolen glances at work, our nightly text conversations, the words I say, and the ones I don’t. I feel like I’m barely breathing tonight, except for the seconds I steal when he isn’t looking at me. The rest of the time, I’m too caught up in drinking in Jake: his smiles, his laugh, his words. I’m toeing the edge of a precipice, staring over the drop and not really caring if I fall.

Instead, I only say, “It isn’t enough for me either.”

I accidentally clank the silverware together before I finally set it on his table. It’s been a little over two weeks since the bonfire at the Hay Loft—or, as I keep thinking about it, the night I completely embarrassed myself. Knowing he took care of me
changed
something. Since then, Jake’s been seeking me out after work at night, and I’ve been leaving to avoid him. Mina has covered for me, making up excuses, but word is starting to spread about us being a couple, and I know she thinks I’m acting insane.

And I am. Texting Jake, talking to him until one in the morning most nights, and then refusing to set a time for a date. I haven’t even broached the topic of a “break up” with him, even though I keep telling myself I will. Mama asked me to invite him over for dinner again this weekend, and I’m torn. On one hand, I can’t refuse to invite him, because she’ll want to know why. On the other hand, I’m not sure it’s safe to let her, Dad, and Cassidy grow any more enchanted with the idea of us together when I know there’s an expiration date on our relationship.

“You’re too serious, Claire.”

I raise my head to speak, but close my mouth, because how the hell am I supposed to even begin to say what’s on my mind?
I like you for real. I want to be with you for real. Yes, I realize it’s totally one-sided.

Jake’s eyes narrow. He turns away long enough to stir something on the stove, but his voice reaches me. “You know, you can tell me if something is wrong. I want to know. I want you to trust me enough to tell me.”

While I’m setting the table, I sigh slowly. “I do trust you.”

“Then what? Is it work? No one’s bothering you, are they?” He faces me, his face darkening.

Waving my hands in front of my face, I shake my head. “No, no. I love everyone. Mina and Brenna are awesome, and the rest of the staff is good, too. Those are just the ones I’ve gotten close to.” I take a gulp of my water. “Work is fine.”

“So…” He frowns.

He’s being completely genuine, which hits me hard. He really does care what goes on in my life. I matter to him, so I can’t shut him out. Even though losing this will
hurt
, I do want to preserve our friendship. I have to trust him.

Suddenly, tears flood my eyes. “I just have a lot on my mind. I’m really happy here, but I miss living in Nashville. I miss—” I fumble for words. “I miss walking on Broadway at night. I miss going to a different restaurant every night. I miss having songwriting partners. And I’m worried that being here…that I’ll get stuck, and forget to follow my dreams.”

I’m being honest with him. Each word is a battle, because I
do
miss Nashville. It’s a city so alive, that people who haven’t been there can’t even imagine. Sure, there are bad elements, but I loved living there. I felt electric most nights. Leaving has been good for me in away, but it’s also heartbreaking. I don’t miss some things—Gideon, Mara, being flat broke—but I miss the rush of sharing a new song with my writing group. I miss getting together in Brandon’s tiny apartment and sewing words together into a chorus or a bridge. I miss having so much at my fingertips.

I keep thinking I’ll simply wake up and find the answers staring me in the face. Instead, I end up more confused each day. I’ve never been happier in some aspects, but I’ve never been more mixed up in others.

“Hey,” Jake says. I glance at him. “Remember Mrs. Moore’s class, eighth grade? Remember when she had us all write a short essay on what we wanted to be when we grew up?”

I snort. “I remember. I think I wrote yours.”

“Not the point.” He sprinkles some pepper in his sauce. “I think I said doctor, or traveler, or astronaut. I was obviously undecided. But
you
wrote that you wanted to be a songwriter. You said…” He squints at me, thinking, then smiles. “You said you wanted to sing and write songs people would remember. Songs that would touch hearts and lives.”

I can’t help but gasp. “You remember something I wrote when I was
thirteen
?”

He stares at me for a long moment, but I can’t read his eyes. They’re intense, but the emotions are too numbered to pinpoint. “I remember everything about you, Claire.” Jake waves away his words as if they’re pesky flies, but I’m trying to hold back more tears. “Point is, you already knew what you wanted to be, and you’ve never wavered. I think you’re the last person to worry that you won’t follow your dreams. You’ll chase them until they fall over from exhaustion and come true.”

My I hiccup turns into a laugh. My carefully locked away tears escape, trickling slowly toward freedom, but before they can go far, Jake leans toward me. I take a hitching breath as he uses his thumbs to slowly wipe away my tears. He smiles at me, so I smile in return, and that causes a few more to fall. He doesn’t leave, just flicks the wetness away like it’s something he’ll always be here to do.

“There.” He moves his hands away and only then do I realize he was cupping my face. His warmth lingers on my skin. “You should never cry. I mean, it brings out your eyes, but I can’t stand to see you sad, sweetheart.”

Since I don’t know how to react, or how to even
speak
, I just sit there silently. He washes his hands and then goes back to cooking. I’m glad he offered to make dinner tonight, because I am
not
skilled in the kitchen.

I sit awkwardly at the table for a few minutes until he asks me to check on the garlic bread. I’m glad for something to do, even if it’s just taking bread out of the oven. I’m not sure how to follow his speech, or if I even
can
. Knowing he believes in me
that
much is astounding. I’ve always had my family’s support, and my friends, but for a huge part of my life, Jake was one of my best friends. There was a part of me he just
got
, without it ever having to be said. Before I ever loved him, he was the boy who taught me how to play football with the guys, who helped me rehearse lines when I wanted to try out for the school play.

“So,” I say finally, “how are you parents?”

Smiling, Jake dishes pasta onto our plates. He’s made homemade spaghetti using fresh ingredients, and it smells amazing. “They’re good. We all have dinner together once a week or so. Last time, even Graham showed.” Jake’s smile deepens and his dimples appear. “After dinner, we all played basketball. Logan and I teamed up against Nolan and Graham, and as predicted, they beat us.”

“I bet you guys were great.”

“I don’t know about great, but we did okay. Logan and I are more suited for football or baseball. Graham and Nolan have a few inches on us, so they can make those shots I can’t.” Jake runs a hand through his hair, thoroughly mussing it. “I’m just so damn lucky they’ll all have anything to do with me.”

I haven’t asked him for any more information than he gave me during our first meeting at Freshly Ground. I still only know the basics, but I’m curious. I want to know more, if he’ll tell me. I want to know
him.

“Coop…you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but what happened with them?”

He lets out a long sigh, seeming like he’s about to speak, but changes his mind. After we’ve both had a few bites of everything, he meets my gaze. I don’t want to push, and I’m content to wait until he’s ready, so I stay quiet.

“I was a disaster after high school. I was going to take a huge chance once I graduated, but I…let it slip away. Once that happened, I sort of went off the rails. I mean, you knew me then. You know I liked to party, and I enjoyed being the town golden boy. But right then, I didn’t want it.
Any
of it. I just wanted to get away.”

I nod. I can absolutely understand that urge.

“My parents insisted on me going to college, and offered to pay.” He frowns. “I told them I wanted to travel, and that I was going, no matter what they said. I told them they could either let me go or lose me for good.” He sighs, eating a few bites. “It was horrible of me to push them like that. They said when I came back, they would still be willing to help with school, but they wouldn’t fund my travels.”

“Oh, Jake…”

“No, no.” He puts down his silverware. “It was a good thing. I went everywhere. I was dirt poor the whole time, but I went. I stayed in hostels, worked odd jobs. I learned construction and coal mining. I bussed tables in Arkansas. I picked strawberries in California. I saw several of the beautiful provinces in Canada.” He breathes in and out for a minute. “I was broke, but I made memories that will last a lifetime. For over three years, I drifted, mostly here in the US, but a few other places. Then I decided it was time to come home.”

“What did your family think?”

“We were in touch every few weeks or months the whole time, but they were so happy to hear I was coming home. They missed me, and I missed them. Once I finally got back to Tennessee, I stayed with them for about a month, reconnecting.” Jake smiles. “That time on the road, and in fields and hills, Claire…it changed me. I can’t describe it. I was a stupid kid when I left, and now I don’t know about the stupid part, but I’m definitely not a kid anymore.”

Impulsively, I take his hand. I haven’t initiated many gestures like this with him, despite normally being affectionate, and I can tell it surprises him in a good way. He curls his fingers around mine.

“Jake Cooper, you are
not
stupid. I don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself that way again. You’re mischievous, sure, and you’ve made mistakes, but we all have. You have a
huge
heart, and you never stop being supportive of those you love. You give all of yourself to everyone, and you live life to the fullest. You’re
amazing
.”

I’ve said too much, but the look on his face is worth it. His eyes are shining brightly and I can’t look away from him. The chocolate brown overtakes gold in this light. He’s so beautiful. The grin he gives me only enhances his features.

“Thank you.” He ducks his head for a moment. When he raises it, his eyes are shining. “I don’t know if I’d call myself amazing, but thank you, Claire.” His voice is husky, and it tugs hard at something inside me. I feel like this moment is stitching us together. “Knowing you believe in me makes me feel like I can do anything.”

“Anytime,” I say quietly. I turn to my food, twirling spaghetti around my fork casually, but I feel breathless. When we talk again, it’s about lighter subjects.

The intensity fades enough for me to breathe by the time Jake walks me to his car. We chat on the drive to my apartment, but I just…don’t want the night to be over when we arrive. I’m just turning to ask if he’d like to come upstairs when I feel his hand on my face. He splays his fingers across my skin, and I shiver. It isn’t cold outside, but I feel goose bumps breaking out across my arms.

“Claire.” Jake whispers my name, but he might as well have shouted it. I can’t look away from him. “I can’t say what tonight meant to me. What
you
mean to me.” He swallows hard. “I’m so glad for this, for us.”

When he leans across his seat, I don’t even pause before I meet him halfway. This kiss is different from our others. It isn’t practice. We aren’t surrounded by people. This is by choice, out of a mutual desire. His mouth is on mine before I can draw breath. He kisses me like he’s losing self-control. Our teeth clash. His hands slip up the back of my shirt.

I give myself over entirely to this moment.

I deepen the kiss, and Jake growls. Actually growls. And it’s sexy. As. Hell. He’s kissing me hard, as if he wants to leave an imprint, and I can’t get enough. My breasts are pressed against his chest, and even though he probably can’t tell, I can feel my nipples harden. I can’t even imagine what it would feel like if he were touching me anywhere else right now. I groan at the thought, a tremor snaking through me, moving lower, lower. I feel flushed and full and alive.

I want this forever. His tongue dancing with mine. His mouth covering mine, lips taking and giving. His hands pressed against my skin, alternately warming me and sending shudders rolling through me. His scent all around me. His stubble scraping lightly against my cheek as he trails kisses along my jawline. He says my name, and it’s a deliciously husky sound that goes all through me.

Jake breaks away from me, but doesn’t go far. He keeps his forehead pressed to mine. I hear a hitch in his breathing, and I’m vaguely aware that I’m out of breath, too.

“I want to stay with you,” he says quietly, “but I think…I think I should go. If I don’t go, I think I might try to take this farther then we’re ready to go.” He ghosts his lips over mine, and then kisses the corner of my mouth. “I’ll see you at work?”