Rainer checks his phone. “I gotta run,” he says. He takes another sip of water and then motions for the waiter. “I got this,” he says. “Sorry to jet.”
“Last-minute packing?” I ask.
I know Rainer is a terrible packer. On tour, I used to do most of it for him.
He pushes his lips to the side. “Nah. That’s what tomorrow is for. I said I’d meet Jessica for a drink.” He gazes down at me. There is so much in his eyes. Tenderness. Forgiveness. Friendship. Love, too.
I smile. “Cool.”
He leans down and kisses my cheek, and for a moment Jordan and Alexis aren’t there. It’s just me and Rainer, redefining, refiguring, ending up somewhere close to where we started.
“Jessica, huh?” Alexis says once he’s gone.
I take a sip of iced tea. “Yeah,” I say. “Jessica.” It stings, a little, but so what. It’s supposed to. I don’t think you go from dating someone to having absolutely no feelings. The important thing is focusing on the ones that matter. Like being happy for him. I’m choosing to give that emotion more weight. And she’s good for him. I see him calmer, happier, more himself. He’s more authentic. He doesn’t have to be a celebrity with her, and I think that’s exactly what he needs. All this time Jordan and I have been figuring out how to be comfortable in the spotlight; what Rainer really needed was to figure out how to be comfortable out of it.
Alexis stretches. “All right, kids,” she says. “All of this doesn’t come free. I need sleep.”
I stand up and give her a hug. “I’ll see you back in L.A.,” I say.
“Don’t unpack your swimsuit. We’re spending every waking moment in Malibu.”
I roll my eyes. “The more things change,” I say.
“The more they stay at beach houses in the Colony.” She leans in close to me. “Courage, young grasshopper,” she says into my ear. And then, to Jordan, “Miss me daily.”
“I’ll do my best,” he says.
We wave her off. “Fly safe,” Jordan calls after her, but she already feels a million miles away. It’s just us now. The air is tense. It crackles. I swear I can almost see it spark.
“Do you want to take a walk?” he asks me.
“Yes.”
We head down to the beach. It’s dark, but the full moon has created a silver pattern on the sand.
“It’s so beautiful here,” I say.
“It is.”
We’re whispering. The night feels so still, so quiet, that if we spoke at volume, our words would be carried away. And I don’t want them to be, not this time. I want us to be exactly here now.
“Come on,” Jordan says.
We start to walk. Past the place where I first saw Jordan, his back to me, taking in the ocean. Past the cabana where he first kissed me, the stretch of ocean where he saved my life when I got pulled out by the current during a morning swim.
“Do you remember what you said to me that first day on the beach?” I ask him.
“When I saved you from drowning?” Jordan has a half smile on his face. I see his eyes, his scar, his lips, all perfectly. It’s like the spotlight of the moon is fixed on us alone. “Not really. Stuff about water safety, I hope. You didn’t know a thing about the ocean.”
“Not quite,” I say. “You told me that there were things in my life the press was going to try to take away and that I had to work to not let that happen. You said I needed to protect what was sacred.”
Jordan stops walking. He turns to me. “I guess that didn’t really work out so well,” he says. “They took Rainer from you, and your privacy, and—”
“Jordan.” I’m edging closer to him. I can see the gold flecks in his eyes—like shooting stars in the darkness. “I didn’t know what was sacred to me then; that was the whole point. But I do now.”
“And?”
“You.”
