“Uh-huh,” she said, her lips pulling up into a knowing smirk. I didn’t get a chance to ask what that was all about before my phone vibrated on the sofa between us.
“Is it him?”
I opened the text. “Yes. He says he can meet on Monday at noon. Wherever works best for me.”
“You should go to this cute new place in Venice Beach—the Saratoga,” Zoey suggested. “I was just there last week. Great rice bowls.”
I nodded and typed my response. “I feel like I need to prepare a speech or something.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Just talk to him. Ask him about his journey, the whole rehab thing, yadda yadda. You don’t need a speech.”
Pressing send on the message, I let out a long breath.
“I’m nervous,” I told her and stayed quiet about the other things I was feeling. The anticipation of seeing him again. The heady memory of his strong arms wrapped around me. The brief moment where I’d felt how stiff he was from dancing with me.
I shook my head. I was definitelynotattracted to Jamie Berg. If I kept repeating that phrase, it would become true, right?
Zoey’s smirk grew when she saw my expression. “Babe, I have a feeling you’ll do just fine.”
13
IVY
The Saratoga wastwo short blocks away from the beach, and I cursed Zoey under my breath as soon as I walked inside. The place looked like the perfect spot for a romantic date, which was not at all what I was going for. The interior was well lit with natural light, and abundant tropical plants gave just enough privacy to the wooden tables scattered throughout.
I made my way to the upstairs patio, and when I got outside, Jamie was already sitting at a table.
My confidence wavered at the sight of him. I had already humiliated myself this past weekend, and now, I was risking doing so again. He was probably confused as to why I wanted to see him. My message had offered no explanation. And yet, he’d agreed to come. Didn’t he have other things he’d rather be doing?
Actually, now that he was no longer in a band, I wondered how he filled his days. Was he working on something? Did he have a lot of friends in LA?
Well, I wasn’t going to get any answers to these questions by just standing here staring at him.
I took long, steady steps in his direction, all the while telling myself to keep it together. As I got closer, shame prickled across the back of my neck, as it did every time I replayed the events of that night. But I knew that the feeling would only grow worse if I didn’t face it head-on. And that meant clearing things up with Jamie.
His gray eyes, even more clear in the broad daylight, swept up to my face as I sat down in the chair across from him. I gave him a tense smile. He returned it genuinely, his entire face lighting up and shaking whatever flimsy resistance I had tried to put up.
God, he’s beautiful.
His transformation had seemed unbelievable until I googled old photos of Ritual Disruption last night. In the early photoshoots, when he was healthy and youthful, his face didn’t seem much different from the way he looked now. The arresting cheekbones, the luminous deep-set eyes, the slant of his brows… They were all there. The only thing that was truly new was his impressive physique, presently on display in the fitted button-up he was wearing. The fabric stretched across the breadth of his wide shoulders, and the sleeves were pushed up to reveal his tattoos.
Keep it together.
“Thanks for meeting me,” I said, trying to move past the impact of that smile.
“Sure,” he said lightly. “I wasn’t expecting your message, to be honest.”
As if the smile wasn’t enough, his voice was like a vicious surprise assault on my sanity. Did he talk dirty in bed? Paired with that voice, I was pretty sure he could bring a woman to orgasm without even touching her.
Oh my God. Where the hell did that thought come from?
I squeezed my legs together and fingered the menu sprawled in front of me. “I wanted to clear things up between us.”
“Do you want to order first?” he offered. Something about how he said it made me think he knew how nervous I was.
“Okay.”
We placed our orders—rice bowl for me, salad with extra tofu for him, and two waters. The waitress left, but not before blatantly eye-fucking Jamie as he spread a napkin over his lap. He leaned back in his seat, seeming at ease. His gaze skated over the view of the ocean and then he focused back on me.
