Page 47 of Beneath a Tennessee Sky

She shrugs. “I saw the way she eyeballed him. Yes, I’m sure she saw the talent, but I have a feeling she’s the kind of woman who likes to prey on young men.”

I groan. “Great.”

“But Jack has zero interest in that woman,” she reassures me. “Trust me, he only has eyes for you.”

“I don’t believe that. There are about a million women who want him. Probably more.”

“This music thing—it’s new. He’ll figure it out. You’re going to be the one he comes home to.”

“But what if he figures it out without me?” The question slips out before I can stop it.

“Then he’s a damn fool.”

I laugh, but it comes out hollow. “He’s not the same. I’m not sure if I fit into this new world of his.”

“Listen, Jinnie. People change. That’s just life. But some things—some people—stay with you, no matter how far you go or how much you grow. You’re one of those people for Jack.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” she says simply. “That boy has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. Not even close.”

“Maybe. But it’s hard to compete with everything he’s getting. The fame, the money, the opportunities.”

“You’re not competing with any of that,” Aggie says firmly. “You’re you. And that’s what he needs, whether he realizes it right now or not.”

I want to believe her. I really do. But the silence from Jack feels like a chasm between us, growing wider every day.

We eat dinner but don’t talk about Jack anymore. I think she can sense it really is painful. When I get home, I do feel like she gave me some insight. He might want me or he might not. I don’t know, but how stupid would it be for me to sit around and wait?

I grab my laptop and type in the words for the local community college. I click through the programs. Business Administration. Graphic Design. Marketing.

Marketing.

My fingers hover over the trackpad. I click on the course details. I could keep working at the bakery while I study. Most of the classes are online.

My chest aches.

It’s a good plan. A smart plan. A plan that doesn’t involve waiting by the phone for a man who might never call. I don’t want to be that girl waiting. Unable to stop myself, I reach for my phone to check for a message that I know isn’t there.

I have to think of a future that doesn’t include Jack. It hurts, but it only hurts worse if I sit around here doing nothing.