Page 75 of A Song for You

The boys? Knowing Cash and how close he is with my grandfather, he probably does. But he hasn’t mentioned it. In fact, we haven’t spoken or even texted since that panic-inducing exchange on Monday.

We don’t talk every day, but I am not foolish enough to believe that was the end of the conversation. But for the time being, I’ll take the reprieve.

I shrug and take another sip of my champagne. “No idea.” I let out a breath and move to where Sophie’s inspecting a sculpture in its built-in alcove. “Okay, enough of the serious talk. Tonight we’re celebrating!”

Sophie and I presented the first few ideas for the Christmas list to Cynthia, and she loved them. She said she’d pass them off to the junior editors to get their feedback. In the meantime, I’ve come up with an idea for a Facebook account where we review products that people recommend and determine whether they work for real. I grab my phone and hold it up in front of us. “Smile, bitch,” I say just as we clink our glasses together and smile for a perfect picture. “I’ll post this later,” I promise.

At the telltale sound of the elevator, I suck in a breath to prepare myself for the next few hours. I came to a conclusion this week. I need to be honest about who I am. If I don’t accept that I’m a James and Jay is a Hanson, then I can’t expect others to accept it either.

Which starts with opening up about my connection to the James family. And even though Mia and I have been spending less time together, she is still one of my closest friends. Outside of our crash-and-burn relationship, we were inseparable for years. On my loneliest days, the days I would have done anything to have my mother back, Mia would sit with me in bed and watch movies. Or read. Or take my mind off my woes and force me to dance around our bedroom to No Doubt or scream our lungs out to Alanis Morissette.

She was my best friend, yet I’ve hidden this version of myself from her for years. That ends tonight.

If being with Jay has taught me anything, it’s that I shouldn’t shrink or hide who I am. Not a single part of me.

Needing a hit of his joy before the elevator dings, I shoot off a quick text with the link to a song.

Me: Incubus, “I Miss You.”

It only takes a moment for him to reply.

Jay: Pitbull, “I know you want me.”

I laugh out loud and drop a Katy Perry song into the text chain just as the elevator opens and Mia walks into the penthouse with a tall brunette and shorter blonde by her side.

Me: Katy Perry, “I kissed a girl.”

No more than five seconds later, the phone rings in my hand. I laugh as I pick it up. “Hello, Mr. Hanson. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Fucking knock it off, Kitten,” he growls.

I grin…and maybe squeeze my thighs together at the rough tenor of his voice. I turn, realizing then that all the women in the room are staring at me, wearing confused smiles. “I’m teasing. Listen, I can’t chat; the girls just got here.”

He sighs heavily, the air escaping his lungs crackling down the line.

“It was a joke,” I murmur, turning away from my audience.

“But it’s not really,” he replies softly.

“You,” I say with genuine affection. “Only you.”

I can picture him standing in his office, facing the Boston skyline, holding the phone up to his ear. Looking serious and rubbing his thumb along his bottom lip roughly. And then breaking into a small smile as he responds, “Only you, Kitten. Have a good night.”

I click off and hold the phone to my heart, a warmth filling my chest. I’m falling for him. Hard.

“Hey,” Mia says softly. When I turn, she’s headed my way with her arms outstretched.

“Hi, sorry about that.” I lean into her for a hug. “It was just…”

She eyes me. “Jay,” she says. Like I’d be an idiot to think she didn’t know already.

I can’t hold back my smile. “Yeah.”

“Let me guess,” she cocks a hip, “he’s not thrilled about you going out with me.”

Tilting my head, I study her expression. There’s a glimmer of hurt hidden below the teasing. She’s wearing a pair of black leather pants, like every other girl in the room, with a low-cut bright red top that highlights her perky breasts. Dark eyeshadow, glossy lips, and light blush finish off her look but do nothing to hide her true emotions.

I pull her in for another hug. “I missed you,” I say, surprised by how true the statement is. Seeing her again, after taking time apart to wrap my head around the change in our relationship now that we’re older and living in the same area again, brings so many good memories and positive emotions to the forefront of my mind.