One Song Away (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Nothing. There’s nothing I can say. In my wildest dreams, I’ve never,
ever
prepared for a moment like this. I’ve thought about it, dreamed of it, hoped for it, but in that far-off pipe dream way. I’ve never
actually
thought it would happen, especially after the other night. I buried the hope and the dream. Now that I’m hearing the words from him? I think I’m in shock. There’s no way of knowing how to react when a miracle happens.

“You love me?” I sound breathless because I
am
.

“Sophie.” Jake puts an arm around me. He doesn’t try to pull me closer, but he makes sure he’s touching me. I want to let my world narrow to just his touch, but I focus on him. “I’m sorry. I know I keep saying it, but I can’t help myself.” He’s smiling. This impossible boy is
smiling
. “I started calling you Claire as a nickname. Then it became a safe name to hide behind, because I knew if I ever—” He blinks rapidly. “If I ever slipped, even once, then you would know how I felt.”

Oh shit, is he choking up? “I don’t understand.”

He cups my face with his other hand. “I should start at the beginning.” He gestures to a table, and I nod. He pulls down the chairs so we can sit; once we do, he reaches for my hand again. I let him take it, because I love how tight he holds me.

“So…you…love me?”

A smile flickers on Jake’s lips. “I do.” He shakes his head, then meets my gaze. “I can’t believe I’m finally getting to say this, but I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

“Shut
up
.” I point at him. “Wait, no. Don’t actually. I’m rambling. I need to be quiet.”

Jake laughs and hooks his leg around my chair, pulling me closer until our knees touch. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…” He smiles brilliantly at me. “I fell for you when we were teens, but I wasn’t sure you felt the same way. I don’t even think I realized it fully until we were about to graduate. I just thought we’d always be…us, then all of a sudden you were leaving, and I realized I was losing the best thing in my life.” I start to protest, but he holds up his hand. “I know. We’re a mess. I’m sure you were looking for the same signs I was.”

“I was. I was always finding reasons to hang out with you, touch you.” I let out a breath. “Good lord, Coop. How could you not guess how I felt?”

“I snuck in your window on your birthday to give you a bracelet!” Jake winces. “I thought I was being romantic, and you would figure it out.”

Shaking my head, I plant my hands on my hips. “You could have just told me. Of course I guess I could have just told
you
. I almost told you how I felt at prom,” I say very quietly.

He takes a huge breath, and lets it out slowly. “That risk I said
I
didn’t take around graduation? I was going to kiss you.”

New tears spring to my eyes. “Why
didn’t
you? We could have been together since then.” I shake my head. “All we have are missed chances.”

Jake is quiet for a few minutes. I know him well enough to know when he’s gathering his thoughts. I love that about him. As a teen, he simply said what he was thinking no matter what. Now, he really takes the time to make his words count.

“I was afraid,” he finally says. “Afraid you didn’t feel the same way. And afraid if you
did
, we’d never leave this town. I wanted and needed more, and I knew you did, too. Plus I was starting to grow up, and honestly, I was afraid that it was too soon. I knew I loved you, but I also knew we were still kids. And I didn’t want us to…” He pauses, his eyes flickering to the ceiling then back to me. Thinking. “I didn’t want us to settle here like dust. Without having experienced the world. I thought if we were meant to be, then it would work out. We’d get our chance.”

“We did.” I put my free hand on his knee. “I can’t believe you
love
me.”

“Believe it.” Jake flashes a grin at me. “When you asked me to be your fill-in boyfriend I thought…” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh hell, I’m not sure what I thought. That I could resist you? That we were adults now, and if we were supposed to be together, we would. I thought I could wait and see if the timing was right now, but it was real.
We
were real.
Are
real.” His smile changes and it warms me.

“So.” I squeeze his hand. “So you weren’t faking it? Because I sure as hell wasn’t. I mean, at the very first, I guess I was, but by the time we had dinner with my family, I started to change. And then it was as if we were on fast-forward. Everything got so real. So huge, so important.”

He shakes his head again. “I wasn’t faking it with you, Sophie. Our dates were real. Our relationship was, too. It killed me every time I called you Claire, and it killed me feeling like I had to pull back, to stop kissing you when all I really wanted to do was tell you how I felt.”

I’m okay, or at least somewhat okay, until he affirms we were real. Then the tears break through. Big, noisy tears I can’t control or hold back. I guess years of suppressed emotion tends to burst forth when it finally comes out. Years of almost no one knowing how I really feel about him, of hoping. Years of loving him as easily as I breathe, fearing he could never return that love.

Hearing that he
does
is almost too much to bear.

Jake scoops me into his arms before I even realize what he’s doing. He’s got me cradled against his chest, his head bent toward mine, by the time my initial onslaught of tears starts to slow. Waiting out the storm, he’s as patient as ever. My lighthouse.

He rocks me back and forth, pressing kisses to my cheek, my temple, the corner of my mouth. As he dries my tears with his gentle kisses, I breathe more evenly. My tears lessen, and I take a shaky, deep breath.

“I’m sorry. Probably not the response you were looking for, huh?” Sniffling, I try to get myself under control.

“Don’t.” He kisses my temple again. “Don’t apologize to me unless you’ve done anything wrong. If anything, I should apologize to you. I wanted to tell you as soon as you left my place, but I know how you are. You blow up then you need time and space to calm down. I didn’t like the thought of you hurting, but I knew when you were ready, you’d find me. I also knew if I pushed you, it wouldn’t do any good. I wasn’t mad, frustrated, but not mad. But you were. And besides,” he says, chuckling, “I knew I’d be here, waiting for you.” His mouth lifts in a lopsided smile. “It’s where I’ve always been.”

Even though I don’t want to, I stand and sit in my own chair again, but I move it right next to his. “I never thought we’d be
here
. I really didn’t. And now we
are
, and I don’t know what we do next. Reality isn’t the same as what I imagined. I think I’m scared this is just a dream, that it will end before I’m ready for it to.”

“I promise you aren’t dreaming, unless we
both
are.”

“I know.” I wave my hand at him, half-smiling. “I’m happy, and scared, and overwhelmed, I think.”

Jake holds my gaze. “And you think I’m
not
? Sophie, we can take this as slow as you need to. As long as I know you love me too, I’m good. I’m perfect.”

“I do.” I color under his study. I can’t explain how it feels, knowing that neither of us needs to look away. Knowing that I don’t have to hide. “I love you, Jake Cooper.” I full-on grin, and I feel like floating. Like flying. “Can you…wait until I get all this figured out? Until I know what’s happening with the Nashville thing and I feel more grounded?”

He sits back in his chair, raising an eyebrow before smiling. It’s a smile full of promise. I get lost in it while he pulls me to a standing position, then between his legs. “I’ve waited for you for years now, Sophie,” he says. The rasp in his voice it tugs at me. “I can wait until you’re ready. Just…please say I can kiss you now.”

Pretending to think about it, I tap a finger on my lips. He follows my finger, and his eyes darken. I haven’t felt Jake’s lips on mine when I wasn’t nervous or afraid, and I want to know how it feels to kiss him just because I can. I don’t know what’s going to happen with Gideon’s offer. I don’t know if I’ll end up in Nashville or if I’ll stay here. I don’t know anything beyond this moment, but for now, it’s enough.

“Yes.” I loop my arms around his neck. “You can kiss me.”

He does. Without fear. Without holding back. He slips his hands under my shirt and up my back, making me shudder. At the same time, he kisses me deeply. Our tongues collide. Our breaths tangle. I brace a hand on his chest, where I can feel his heart racing under his thin shirt. Everything I feel crashes over me again, and when I look into Jake’s eyes, I see it there, too: love.

This love has woken me in the middle of the night, tears still wet on my eyelashes and cheeks. It’s landed me in the most outrageous and awkward situations, all because I needed to be by his side. It made me bend and break. It tore me apart. It put me back together. It’s part of why I left. I knew there were other dreams worth chasing, and I wouldn’t chase them if I stayed here.

I’ve loved so many versions of this man, and I realize now that he’s loved other versions of me. Whatever happened, whatever missteps we took, whatever pain we went through, whatever growth we experience, was all worth it, to get here. To become individuals worthy of loving
these
versions of each other.

My life is up in the air, but if the last months have taught me anything, it’s that being an adult doesn’t mean pausing life when it doesn’t go your way. It means forging ahead, even if you have to go around. Sloane taught me that.

Being an adult doesn’t mean never being scared. It means facing your fears, backing them down, and sometimes, whittling away at them one chip at a time. My parents taught me that. It means taking chances and trusting that no matter the outcome, you will be okay. My friends taught me that.

Being an adult doesn’t mean that love comes all at once or how or when you expect it. It means love can come sighing like a wave—breaking warmly around you until it surrounds you, and you give in to the simple truth that it’s yours to give and receive. I taught myself that. I learned all over again how to love myself for my flaws, my good points, and all the spaces in between. I learned how to love someone maturely. I’ve finally learned how to love without fear.

“Say it again,” I whisper to Jake. “Tell me again that no matter where I choose to go, no matter what happens…you love me. Tell me distance won’t matter for us. Tell me we’re taking this leap together, despite my flaws.”

He strokes my face, then pushes my hair back so I can’t help but see his gaze. It’s warm and alive and brimming with everything he no longer has to hide. Jake touches his lips to mine, but when he pulls back, he doesn’t go far.

“I love you, Sophie.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “I will
always
love you.” My cheek. “And whether you end up in Nashville or on the other side of the country, I’ll still love you. You can’t lose me. Ever.”

I hear the truth in his words. I feel it in his arms, in the way he holds me. I see it in his eyes. And when he kisses me again, it’s there, too. And it’s enough for now.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Okay.” Sloane plants her elbows on the table, ignoring the hostile glances she draws from some older ladies nearby. “Spill.” She raises an eyebrow at me, waiting.

I keep pushing my vegetables around on my plate. “It’s complicated.”

Sloane laughs. “Nothing is complicated, Sophie. People
make
things that way, but nothing starts out complicated.”

Snarling at her, I spear some asparagus. After I swallow it, I meet her gaze. “Well, Gideon came to see me yesterday.”

“Oh hell no!” Sloane’s entire countenance changes. She leans forward. “I hope you slammed the door in his face.”

“Wait.” I smile at her. “That was my reaction when he rang my doorbell at fuck-it’s-early-o’clock.” I snort, thinking of our awkward conversation and equally weird breakfast. He headed back home after lunch, but not before promising that he’d be back on Friday. My self-imposed deadline. “But he’s changed.”

“Gideon Price, the man in love with his own reflection, has changed?” Sloane’s dark eyes narrow, and I can tell she isn’t buying it. “Into what, an even more conceited asshole?”

I think of the texts we’ve exchanged. We started with something simple: I sent him a text to make sure he got home okay. Since then, we’ve been texting somewhat regularly, and he’s slowly catching me up on his life, and asking about mine. I’ve told him that I’m dating someone, which is partially true, and a much simpler version of events than the truth. He seems happy for me, but he’s obviously also interested in my answer to the proposal he had for me.

“No.” I chuckle at her words. “Into an out of work actor who’s putting his…talents to use. He wants to become an agent. He has some contacts, and I think he finally has a good idea of how to make them mean something.”

Sloane is staring at me as though she doesn’t even know me. “Well.” Her mouth opens and closes several times before she attacks her salad. She eats in silence for a few seconds before she lifts her head. “I guess stranger things have happened?”

“He wants to help me,” I say. It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud since I told Jake. “Among those contacts is an executive at PowerPlay Records.” I let out a breath. “Gideon played some of my demos for him, and the guy told Gideon, he’d let me audition for him as a favor to Gideon.”

“Holy shit!” This time, the ladies near us actually glare at Sloane, but she doesn’t even notice. “Sophie!”

“I know.” It’s been so freaking hard not to tell her. Saying the words feels unreal, just like it feels unreal to know I could finally have a chance.
The
chance. “But…” I don’t realize I’ve spoken out loud until Sloane grabs my hand.

“But what?”

“Well…”

“No.” She shakes her head, her dark curls bobbing everywhere. “No. Don’t you dare tell me this is about Jake.” She’s happy for us both of course, but if she thinks I’m considering turning down an opportunity because of a guy, she’ll read me the riot act.

“It isn’t.” I push away my plate, suddenly not hungry. “Not totally.” I take a long drink of my tea, so I can try to gather my thoughts together. “I’ve felt like I’m really starting to get to know myself. I’ve been writing better songs, and becoming more confident in my singing. Falling in love has something to do with it, but…” I stir the ice in my glass, listening to it clink together. “It’s like it’s all been this journey, and like every part of it has been supposed to happen. So this chance feels too easy. I don’t feel like I’ve earned it.”

It’s hard, but I don’t flinch under Sloane’s scrutiny. My best friend scrunches her eyebrows together, managing to look totally intimidating for a good thirty seconds before she sighs.

“All right.” She pokes a finger out toward me. “I’m listening, but this better not skew into being about Coop.”

How can I tell her what the last few months have meant to me? I’m not the defeated girl who left Nashville. I’m not the scared girl who made up a boyfriend. I’ve poured myself into melodies and into the lyrics I scratched on pages late at night. I’ve sung karaoke at Freshly Ground. I’ve fallen in love. I’ve learned more about who I am and who I want to be.

Part of all of that
is
tied up in Jake. He was the catalyst for some of the changes I’ve made. But he wasn’t the sole reason, and no matter what happens with him now, I want the good changes to stick.

“I’d be lying if I said there’s not a definite way I want this to play out,” I finally say. “Of
course
I want to be with Jake, especially now that I know he wants to be with me, too. But I do have to ask myself if this is home without him in the equation.” I’ve been wondering this ever since he confessed how he feels. Even as I told Sloane that night, it didn’t feel real yet.

“And is it?”

I make myself meet her eyes before I answer. “I’m not sure. I love living here. Martinville still
feels
like home, but I do miss Nashville.” Swallowing twice, I try to battle the lump in my throat. “I used to think you knew you’d found home because you missed it when you weren’t there. But I miss Nash when I’m here, and I miss here when I’m there. So I’m not sure what that means.”

Sloane flags down our waiter. “I think it means we need dessert.”

I laugh along with her, but I feel so conflicted. I put all that aside long enough to order cheesecake, and when it and our coffees arrive, I try to forget about my worries. On one hand, I’m walking on air. Jake
loves
me. We went back to his place last night and talked. Well, I tried to talk. He kept kissing me and distracting me. On the other, I’m torn about this opportunity in Nashville and what it could mean for Jake and me.

“I’ve been making this totally all about me.” I stir a bit of sugar and creamer into my coffee. “Tell me what’s going on with you? I don’t want to talk about my issues anymore.”

Suddenly, Sloane seems to find her chocolate cake really interesting. I watch as she pokes at it, adopting my mannerisms from earlier. She takes a bite. Frowns. Puts down her fork.

“Sloane Amaya Delgado. What’s wrong? And don’t try to tell me nothing. I know when you’re upset about something.”

“Tallulah and I didn’t work out.” She swirls her finger through the icing on her cake then sticks it in her mouth.

Stunned, I sit back in my chair. I don’t know what to say. They’ve been on a few dates, and I honestly thought they could turn into a real relationship, from what Sloane said. I hadn’t met Tallulah but seeing Sloane so happy was enough for me. Sloane hasn’t had good luck with girls in the last year or so. She’s been cautiously dating since a breakup some time ago, but so far, she hasn’t found anyone to give her heart to.

“What happened?”

I watch her eat the rest of her cake. She’s so quiet. Either she isn’t going to tell me, or she’s trying to figure out what to say. I turn my attention to my own plate, nibbling at my cheesecake. When that’s gone, I start in on the fresh strawberries that came with it.

“She wasn’t ready to come out yet. I thought that by being with me, she’d change her mind, but…” Sloane lets her fork fall to her plate with a clatter. “I was wrong.” She sighs, blowing up her bangs. “I can’t wait, hoping she’ll get to the point I’m at in my life. I’m not scared anymore.”

I nod. I admire the hell out of my best friend. Coming out at seventeen nearly wrecked her. Her family disowned her, so she sued for her emancipation and worked her ass off in school and at her job. I know nothing has been easy for her, but Sloane makes life look like a race she’s determined to win, obstacles be damned.

Sometimes, I wonder if it’s because she’s so fixed on her goals and the future, or if it’s because she’s too determined not to look back at the ghosts following her. The only thing that matters to me is she's one of the strongest people I know, and my life would be empty without her.

“That’s hard. You know I respect you for making that decision.”

Sloane nods. “It hurt because we got along great. And the sex was amazing.” She smiles softly, a slightly wicked gleam in her eyes. “I told her I wanted us to stay friends, and I meant it. She deserves an awesome girlfriend, but I’m not it. I need someone who isn’t afraid to hold my hand in public. Someone who loves me loudly, not in a whisper.”

“Fuck yeah.” I hold up my coffee cup and we clink mugs. “We both do.” I lower my cup. “And you are going to find that person. And she’s going to be amazing, and she’ll make you so, so happy.”

“I hope so,” Sloane says. She brushes her bangs out of her eyes and smiles at me. “No matter what you decide, no matter what happens with Jake, I hope we both find the love we deserve.”

I hope so, too.

___ ___ ___

I’m still thinking about Sloane’s words later that night, when I make myself put down the phone. I’ve been going through pictures of me and Jake for too long, and every one of them makes me want to call him, but I told him I needed some downtime tonight. I pick up my guitar instead. I’ve been working on my songs for the showcase this Friday—also known as my deadline for making my decision about Nashville—but I need to fine-tune them a little.

Plus, there’s one I’m still working on.

I open my notebook to the page full of my scrawl. “Coming Home” is written across the top of the page. I’ve gotten as far as the verse and chorus, but that’s not counting what I’ve marked through and changed. I started writing it a few days ago, but like earlier with Sloane, I’m not really sure which place I’m talking about when I describe “home.”

Sloane is right to make me ask myself where home is. Is it Nashville, a city of lights, sound, music, and dreams? Or is it Martinville, a town made of pickup trucks, bonfires, fireflies, and Main Street events? We’ll have the Christmas tree lighting in a few months, and I can’t bear to think about not being there. But then again, New Year’s in Nashville is an amazing time. Wherever I stay, I’m missing something.

Maybe the real question isn’t which place I miss when I’m not there, because maybe I’m always going to long for parts of one or the other. Maybe the question is: which place do I feel at home
in
?

Frowning, I turn back to my song. I strum what I have of the melody, and smile as it falls into place. I’ve never enjoyed writing tunes as much as I do writing lyrics, or singing, but when I have to, I can do it. I love seeing the words come together, hearing my voice make them rise and fall, twist and turn. I just prefer to let someone else write the music.

But maybe that’s a problem. Isn’t that what I did for too long with Jake? I’ve been working the lyrics into the song someone else already wrote. I was afraid to take a risk with us. Then when he didn’t respond as perfectly to me as I imagined he would, I ran. We lost several days because of my actions. I’ve been letting things happen
to
me, instead of
making
them happen. I’ve never wanted to be the sort of person who just floats along, and I know that’s why I feel so torn and unsettled right now, while trying to make this choice.

Somehow, I have to stop looking at just one piece or another of the puzzle. I have to start looking at everything. Start looking inward, to my heart. I need to start listening to what it’s telling me about where I belong.

I have to change things. I have to decide to begin writing everything about my own song. I can't keep telling myself that everything will fall into place. That someday, the melody and my lyrics will go together perfectly. I can't keep thinking that the perfect life is one song away. I have to start making the most of the one I already have.