I stared at the phone in my hand. She hadn’t responded to my text.
I texted her again anyway, hoping like hell it wasn’t far too little, far too late.
Miss you like hell.
It was true. I did miss her.
More than that.
I never wanted to be apart from her again.
CHAPTER 35
KATIE
I’d been back in Vancouver for almost thirty-six hours. I’d barely slept and had eaten little more than iced cherry-vanilla lattes with copious amounts of cherries—which, according to my sister, did not count as food.
Devi had met me at Nudge, where soon enough I’d be in rotation again to keep the cash rolling in. I kept telling her I was giving Jesse his money back, and she kept telling me not to be an idiot, that I’d earned every penny. I wasn’t so sure. But we’d kind of given up on arguing about it. Somewhere around the hundredth time I asked her what I should do and she told me, for the hundredth time, “Talk to him,” we called it a stalemate. For now.
Even I could see I was beyond reason, for the moment. I just needed to wallow a bit. And Devi could respect a good wallow. As long as it was brief.
We sat at the far end of the bar, where I hoped no one would recognize me. I had my hair pulled back and my sunglasses on just like that chick inThe Boys of Summer, a rocking cover of which was currently playing over the sound system, though I was pretty sure I didn’t actually have the love of the hero in my personal story of—unrequited—summer love. I was just trying to be invisible.
Somehow it had never even occurred to me, until now, that if I was uncomfortable with the negative attention I got as Jesse Mayes’ girlfriend, the attention I’d get as his ex-girlfriend could only be worse. I was trying to prepare for that eventuality, but the news had not yet dropped that I’d left the tour or that the great Canadian love story was over. Apparently Jesse’s people weren’t talking, and I was hardly going to be the one to break the news.
Devi kept saying I didn’t need to worry about it, that she’d handle it, that we could even hire a PR person to deal with it. I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around that. I just kept replaying the last few months of my life in excruciating detail. Every thrilling, amazing, crazy-ass moment of it. Even the ones that had led some paparazzo to believe I was some kind of whore.
And all the things I’d said to Jesse when I walked out on him… those were pretty much on repeat.
I felt dazed, horrified, and emotionally wrung out.
But I was also getting mad. As fuck.
Because it hadn’t exactly escaped my notice that that whole slam piece had little to stand on other than the fact that I’d kissed another guy while I was supposed to be Jesse’s girl, as evidenced by the incriminating photosomeonehad leaked. Never mind that Josh was kissingme. According to that photo, I was guilty as sin.
And I had a pretty good idea who’d turnedthatover to the media.
“So do I go talk to him or what?” I asked Devi for at least the dozenth time.
“Hell yes, you go talk to him.”
“Nothim. I mean Josh.”
Devi gave an exasperated sigh, for the dozenth time. “Fuck that. Why would you waste another second on that creep?”
“I don’t know. Closure or something? Tell him to F off once and for all?”
“For what? Nothing you can say will ever get through to him. You’ve just got to accept that. The guy is an entitled prick and he always will be. You’d do much better leaving him in your rearview, like permanently, babe.”
“I know, but—”
“Hell, no!” Devi spun around on her stool and called across the bar to my sister, who was making an espresso at the other end. “Turn this panty-peeling vagina heroinoff.”
Dirty Like Mehad just come on, the original Dirty version. Normally I would’ve laughed my ass off at Devi’s description of the song, which was bang on, but at the moment I was far closer to tears than laughter. I waved Becca away from the iPod dock anyway. “No. Just leave it on.”
Because Ilovedthis song.
It was pretty much the best of what Dirty was. Their most famous song. Their biggest hit, ever.
