I do my best to ignore his eyes burning into me as I sift through my fridge and cabinets to gather ingredients. Cooking will keep me busy, which is a relief since it’s jarring to see Jake sitting on one of my barstools. His elbows are casually splayed on my marblecountertop, as though there’s nothing unusual about the current situation. As though he never left.
I’m flipping over the pancakes when Ali comes out of her room, blessedly no longer wearing Jake’s silkscreened face across her chest.
She jolts to a stop as she walks into the kitchen. Her eyes zero in on the pint of blueberries splayed open on the counter. She looks at Jake, then back to me as understanding dawns on her face.
“Oh. My. God. That song reallyisabout fruit,” she says softly. Jake’s eyes travel to mine, and we stare at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. The tension between us instantly dissolves.
“Guess I’ll just see myself out.” Ali jerks her thumb toward the door, but doesn’t make any move to leave, her eyes still fixed unbelievingly on Jake.
“Hey, if you could just keep this between us—” I start.
Ali holds up her hand. “I swear, my lips are sealed.” She chuckles ruefully. “Not that anyone would believe me anyway.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast? I’m making your favorite.”
She shakes her head. “I’m sure you guys have a lot of catching up to do. Besides, I’ve got plans. I need to go home and set myself on fire.”
Jake snorts, and I can’t help but smile at him, my heart fluttering when he grins back. So much for keeping my distance.
Ali shoots me a look as she passes through the doorway, holding two fingers against her face to mime a phone and mouthingCall me!before pulling the door shut behind her.
Shaking my head, I stack a plate with three pancakes and slide it across the counter. Jake hums appreciatively as he takes a bite. “Even better than I remember.” His face brightens as a thought occurs to him. “Wait, you’ve graduated, right?”
I nod. “Yup, a few months ago. I’m working at Olive & Pomegranate in Midtown. I’m usually on brunch service, but I was off today.”
Jake’s grin stretches to his eyes. “I’m so happy to hear that. Everything worked out for you. I knew that it would.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Seems like things worked out pretty well for you too.” Jake’s face flushes and he stares down at his plate. “Yeah. About that. I know I haven’t exactly handled things the right way. Writing that song and never saying anything about it to you.”
“I think we can agree it was a dick move.” I shoot him my best attempt at a wry smile and he offers me a weak one in return. I fix myself a plate but stay in my spot on the other side of the island. Keeping some distance is going to be imperative if I want to stay levelheaded this morning.
“So, what happened?” I ask softly.
Jake blows out a sigh and slumps back against the stool. He looks better this morning than he did last night—the purple circles beneath his eyes have lightened a shade or two—but his forehead is still creased in fatigue.
“It was a complete whirlwind. One minute I was standing in the El Sol office, expecting the CEO to laugh in my face. And then next thing I knew, he was on the phone, asking for a contract to be drawn up.”
He gives his head a slight shake, as if the reality is still inconceivable. “He actually told me the only way I was leaving his office was out the window or through the door with a signed contract in my hand.”
“That’s amazing,” I say, and I mean it. “You made it, Jake. You’re famous.”
Jake huffs out a bitter laugh. “Trust me, fame isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I feel like I don’t even know who to trust half the time. Everyone just wants something from me.” He straightens and scoops up a bite of pancake into his mouth, chewing it contemplatively.
“The worst part is how guilty I feel. I mean, you’re right: all my dreams have come true. I got lucky, and I’m grateful, I really am. But it’s not at all what I thought it would be. So much of what you see from the outside—it’s not real. I’m tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. And it’s like, are these my only options? Go along with a lie, or give up everything I’ve worked for?”
He looks so crestfallen that it takes everything in me not to walk over and wrap my arms around him. I grip the countertop tightly as I resist the urge, digging my nails into the hard surface.
“When I signed with El Sol, my new management warned me that my life was about to change. They even offered to swap out my phone number, insisting people would come out of the woodwork the minute they heard I got a record deal. At first, I thought they were crazy. People wouldn’t really do that, right? But then the text messages and DMs started pouring in. I felt like I was drowning. I just couldn’t keep up with it all.”
He shifts his gaze toward me, his eyes swimming with remorse.
“But I should have tried harder, Lex. I can only imagine how you must have felt. You had every right to say what you did in that text, but—”
“Wait, what?” I interrupt. “What text?”
Jake’s brow furrows. “The text you sent me, a couple weeks after I got to LA.” He reaches into his pocket for his phone, but before he withdraws it, I’m suddenly hit with the full force of the flashback. That night at the bar when Ali swiped my phone, deleted our texts, and reassured me that she’d taken care of the problem.How did I not realize?
Jake opens our message history and I read my last text over his shoulder with barely restrained mortification:I, Lexi Berman, am an exquisite goddess who deserves better than you.
