A hot spike of jealousy pulses through me as I watch her ogle my boyfriend with naked adoration. I still don’t understand how Jake can’t see it; Madison’s lashes are practically curling as she stares up at him.
“How insane was Shawn’s after party? I think I’m still a little drunk!”
Jake smiles politely, extracting his hand. “Yeah, it was a good time. He’s got quite a house.”
Madison is still beaming at Jake like he is the actual sun. I can’t stop staring at her teeth. She’s got to have more than the average person. Maybe they’re implants. I make a mental note to bring it up with Ali. If anyone will know, it’s her.
“How long are you in town? Are you back at The Pierre?”
“Technically. Although I’m still crashing with this one half the time.” Jake grins at me and Madison’s smile slips momentarily as her gaze flicks toward me. Her cornflower-blue eyes run up and down my dress, a floaty, tunic-style number from Anthropologie that felt ethereal when I put it on but is now making me feel decidedly like what Vinny would call “a regular.”
She presses her lips together in a tight smile, extending a bony hand toward me.
“Oh, right,” she says. “We’ve met before. You’re…”
“Lexi. My girlfriend,” Jake supplies helpfully. We exchange a limp handshake that possesses all the warmth of a meat locker. After some parting words, Jake presses a hand into the small of my back.
“We won’t keep you. Enjoy your dinner,” he says, as he guides us away from her table.
Jake and I spend the next two hours lingering over a feast of chicken satay, pot stickers, and the famous Mr Chow’s noodles, our ankles interlocked under the table. I do my best to focus onthe incredible food, and Jake, and expel all thoughts of his and Madison’s wild after-party adventures.
He fills me in on his newly updated schedule. The remainder of the year will be dedicated to promoting his sophomore album, which means press junkets, a handful of small venue concerts, and a guest spot onDick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve with Ryan Seacrestin Times Square. I can’t help but beam with excitement at the last part.
As a kid, I begged my parents every year to take me to see the ball drop, and every year they refused. (Let the tourists venture into the belly of the beast!my mother would say.) I finally went with friends as a junior in high school. That night, we learned the hard way that New Year’s Eve attendees are penned into Times Square like cattle for seven hours, with no access to a bathroom. Still, it’s a New York tradition, and I’m excited he’ll get to be part of it. Then, he drops the bombshell: on New Year’s Day, he’ll be leaving for a ten-month tour across five continents to promote his new album.
“Ten months?You can’t be serious.”
I knew Jake wasn’t going to be staying in New York after December, but I figured he’d only be gone for a few weeks at a time. I never anticipated a ten-month tour. It hasn’t been that long since he returned from the last one. The pit in my stomach swells as Oren’s words echo in my brain.In three months, you’ve used a year’s worth of leave time.Without any time off, when will I ever see him?
“I know it’s a really long time,” Jake acknowledges. He takes a deep breath, reaching across the table to take my hand in his. “And I know I’m taking a shot in the dark here, but I was hoping you’d consider going with me.” He seems to hold his breath as he studies my face, gauging my reaction.
“On tour? For ten months?” I don’t bother trying to mask the exasperation in my voice. “How could I do that? What about my job?”
Jake stares down at his plate forlornly. “I know you have acareer of your own, and I have no right to ask you to give anything up for me. But it’s a long time to be apart, and I had to at least try.”
Half a dozen people stop by our table over the course of the evening, asking for autographs or photos with Jake. He graciously obliges, but he looks tired, worn-out, like a small piece of him leaves his body with every flash of the camera. After we settle the bill, we decide to walk for a bit before heading back to my apartment.
He’s silent as we stroll through the streets, our arms linked, his eyes roving over the storefronts.
“You know, I could always take a break,” he says so softly that I almost don’t hear him. “Just a short one. Postpone the tour, take a few months off.”
I stop in my tracks, dragging him back toward me. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” He takes a shaky breath. “Let’s face it, it’s just been a nonstop whirlwind for the past two years, and I haven’t really taken a beat.” He shoots me a sideways glance. “Plus, it would give me some more time to spend with you.”
Guilt floods my body as I study Jake’s face. Could I live with myself if he gave up everything he’s worked for to be with me? We’re both quiet for a moment, considering it.
“Does performing still make you happy?”
Jake intakes a breath, studying his shoes. He nods.
“Then you don’t quit. You never give up if your dream is still what fills you.”
He turns to look at me, the side of his mouth curling upward in that way that still makes my heart flutter every time.
“You’re pretty cool, you know that?”
I shrug, smiling. “So I’ve been told. But please, do continue to list my best qualities.”
