“Maybe you’ve developed a taste for expensive cheesecake now that you’re a big fancy superstar.”
“Never,” I promise, crossing my heart. “I’m pretty sure that summer we built a clubhouse in your backyard, you made me swear to forever hate cheesecake. I would never go back on a clubhouse promise.”
“No!” Izzy says, laughing. “I made you promise never to say eating fruit was the same as eating dessert.”
“And I never have,” I say solemnly.
“Liar,” she says. “I have adamantly avoided finding you on the internet, but I’m not a hermit. I know you dated that model…what’s her name?” She looks at Nash and Leo like they might be able to help.
“Gigi?” Nash offers helpfully.
“Yes! Gigi Svensson or something like that,” Izzy says, turning her gleeful eyes toward me. I’m not sure why she’s so excited by this line of conversation, but I can’t help but enjoy it.
“I didn’t date Gigi.”
“What?” Nash asks. “No way. It was everywhere.”
“Total PR stunt,” I admit. “I was about to tour in Scandinavia, and she was trying to launch a makeup line.”
“What about SJ Maddox?” Nash says, naming a popular actress I had one picture taken with at a benefit a few years ago.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“What about—”
I cut Nash off. “Let me make this simple. I haven’t really dated anyone seriously. So any name you’re about to pull out, the answer is no.”
“Boo,” says Izzy. “I was hoping for some juicy details.”
I reach across the table to flick the top of her hand.
“Hey!” she says, her other hand covering the spot I just hit.
“I put in a lot of effort to not have any juicy details about my life,” I say, as if that gives me an excuse to touch her.
“And how is that going for you?” Izzy asks.
I’m still thinking about it when Nash cuts in, “Hey, we’re going to step out for a minute to go over our shift change protocol real quick. Iz, do you mind hanging with Jaxon for a minute? You know the poor diva gets very upset when we leave him alone.”
Izzy sighs dramatically. “I suppose I can take one for the team.”
“You’re a literal angel,” Nash says with a wink that causes Izzy’s full face to break into a grin.
She catches me staring at her, and her eyebrows draw down into a frown. “What? Do I have pizza in my teeth?”
I shake my head. “Nah. I’m just trying to figure out why Nash gets to call you Izandwink at you.”
The tilted look she gives me clearly saysI think we both know why.
“Right,” I say on a sigh. “I am sorry, you know. If I could do things differently, well…”
This is the hard thing about my apology and my quest for forgiveness. I am sorry. I am so sorry I hurt her. I’m sorry I ruined Izzy’s chance at some Ivy League school—though I’m so impressed with everything she’s accomplished. Honestly, I could listen to her talk about her job and the spreadsheet she’s working on for hours.
But I also know myself. And I knew then and I know now, if I had let myself talk to Izzy, if I’d let myself respond to one of her texts or calls, I would’ve come back. I would’ve been on the next bus back to Colorado, and yeah, I would’ve missed my chance to do the one thing that makes my life worthwhile—that eases the burden of trading my life for my mom’s.
“You’d do them exactly the same because you’d be worried about the butterfly effect, and if you responded to a text of mine, then you’d all of a sudden not be an international superstar anymore?” Izzy asks.
“Ah, so you did read my letter,” I say.
