When the time comes.
Aside from my initial panic, I like that.
It feels safe.
When Layla brings Jamie home, we all walk down to the basketball goal end of the cul-de-sac and play H-O-R-S-E until late afternoon. We’re sweaty and exhausted when Sam hugs us all and tells meeverything will be okay. Now I’m concerned.
“Some comments were nasty, but Annie deleted ’em fast. She blocked the accounts. It happens, ya know?” He sounds fine but wouldn’t bring it up if he wasn’t worried. “Probably no big deal, but I’ll stay with Jace and stick around the townhouses this week. I’m coverin’ for Danny anyway.”
“What kind of comments?” I press. “From who? I wish you’d let me see them.”
“No,” he says in a stern, un-Sammy-like fashion. My eyes flick over to Jude’s, and he nods, giving Sam the lead. “Just people being people. Don’t worry about it. I’ll text you tomorrow before I leave Cade’s house, and we’ll get on the road at the same time, okay? Love y’all.” He turns to Jude. “Danny, go love her up good before you stay gone for six weeks.”
I don’t have to work until tomorrow evening, and Sam’s off until fall semester begins. We’ll drive back in the morning, but Jude needs to leave soon.
He swipes my hand as we walk back to the house from the driveway. “Can I take you out? I’ve got clothes in the car. We could clean up and have one semi-real date before I go back to Nashville.”
Stupid Nashville.
“Right.” Reality bites. “You need to get back.” I do a lousy job hiding my disappointment. The last thing he needs is a whiny, clingy girlfriend. He already gives me more than enough attention.
“It’s only five days, Lu. We’re not calling it six weeks.Five days.”
I nod. No big deal. I need to suck it up. There were plenty of times I didn’t see Nathan for five days, but I don’t need space or recovery time from Jude.
Heismy recovery.
Jude got me through my own stupidity. It’ll be a while before I forgive myself, but he’s been my silent partner all along. He held my hand in a burning building until I was strong enough to walk out … Though he was probably five seconds from carrying me when I did it on my own.
I wish we could go back to the cabin. My social battery has been onemptyfor weeks, but I keep pulling myself together to work or study or sing. Little jam sessions are one thing, but I sang in front of live humans twice this week.
Twice.
Who evenamI?
Since the breakup, and especially all the conversations about it, I need a minute. Not space or distance, I just need to stop moving and think. Process.Breathe. I don’t know how much longer hair metal and caffeine can keep me going—especially without Jude.
My stomach lurches at the thought.
I will not cry.
He told me about this training before we were …Us.
What a difference a week makes.
“Well,” I sigh, grasping desperately for levity, “if I can’t see you for five days, you should probably wear a suit for me again so you can be my secret undercover rock-star CEO.”
His predatory grin chases away the threat of tears.
I squeal in response, taking off around the porch. He gives me three steps before he loops an arm around my waist, dragging me back to his chest.
“Uh-uh. Where do you think you’re going?” He turns me around, caging me against the side of the house.
“Nowhere?”
He towers over me with seductive intimidation. “And why is that?”
“Because … I don’t want to get away?” I scan his face to see if that’s the response he wants, then crane my neck to peck his lips, but he lifts his face out of reach. “Uh.” I huff my displeasure.
