One Song Away

by Molli Moran

  He’s clearly fighting laughter, but he gets himself under control in time to dodge my next punch. His expression changes by the time he answers me. He’s quiet again, meeting my eyes and my scrutiny. I don’t know whether to hope he’ll agree to my proposal, or whether I want him to turn me down. All I know is I’m running out of options, and the last thing I want is for my family to find out that I lied.

  “I’m just messing with you, Claire.” His smile comes back, but it’s sweet instead of amused. “Of course I’ll help you. God knows you’ve saved my ass before. One fake relationship, coming right up.”

  Chapter Five

  The music is so loud the next night at Time Out that I can barely think, but when I meet Sloane’s eyes, I can’t hear a thing she’s saying, but I don’t need volume. She mouths “What the hell” at me and I feel a flush crawling across my throat. I didn’t see her yesterday, because I found an apartment, which gave me time to dread telling her my news. And apparently I was right to be nervous. Finishing my drink, I head for a refill.

  What the hell was I thinking yesterday with Jake? I sigh and drum my fingers on the bar while I wait for my second glass. The bartender tries to make conversation, but I don’t feel chatty. After he slides me my drink, I join Sloane just as the song ends, and a slower, quieter one starts.

  She takes a breath of her own and lets it out slowly. “I don’t even know where to start. Jeez, Sophie.”

  My face overheats again, like clockwork. “I know. I’ve been having these moments of temporary insanity, and I guess that’s what happened yesterday. Is it that bad? At the time it seemed almost logical, better to do this with Jake than with a stranger. Or tell Mama I lied.”

  “You asked the guy you spent our teen years madly in love with—the guy who never tried to be more than friends—to pretend to be your boyfriend, and you’re asking me if it’s that bad.” She whistles, shaking her head. “It’s your heart, girl.”

  She’s right. It’s my heart on the line if this ends badly. My life is open for total destruction if I can’t follow through on keeping my feelings out of this arrangement. That’s all it can be with Jake, an arrangement. He needs a barista and I need a boyfriend. We both get something out of the deal. I’ll work for him, and hopefully I won’t drive away all his customers. And he’ll charm my parents so completely that when we “break up” they’ll give me space.

  It will work. It has to work. I can totally do this.

  Can’t I?

  I’m gripping the stem of my wine glass so hard that I’m surprised it doesn’t break. “I’m not sure if I can do this.” My eyes widen as the enormity of the situation settles over me. In the heat of the moment I didn’t think. I just saw an advantage and grabbed hold of it.

  Sloane studies me. “Are you okay, Soph? You look pale.”

  Swallowing hard, I fan my face with my free hand. “I’ll have to act like Jake is my boyfriend.” Is it just me or is it hot in here? “I’ll have to hold his hand and kiss him…” Nothing but a clicking sound emerges in place of my next words. Teen Sophie would be flailing happily in this situation. I’m not sure what I’m feeling, but I’m going to need a few more drinks to mute whatever it is.

  “Yes.” She sighs. “You didn’t think about that, did you?” She captures my fanning hand with hers. “Sophie, you don’t have to do this. You can back out.”

  “If I don’t, Mama will set me up with a Harvard graduate who thinks I should be seen and not heard. You know she’s always wanted me to settle down with someone dependable. And I may not know exactly what I want to do with my life right now, but I definitely know I want to find my happy ending on my terms.” I shrug. “Besides, they’ll approve of Jake, and even if it’s just temporary, I want that.”

  Nodding, Sloane squeezes my hand, her dark, expressive eyes hold mine. “And I support that. I support you. But at the same time, I know Jake is your kryptonite, so I’m worried.” She clears her throat. “I know you’ve grown up just like he has, just like I have, but he was your first love. Can you really forget all of that?”

  Was Jake my first love? Can it be love when the other person doesn’t love you back? All the years waiting, reading between the lines, all the false hopes, all the times I put my feelings aside so I didn’t ruin our friendship…

  It’s the last slow song of our senior prom when Jake approaches me. I’m fairly sure I’ve danced with everyone here tonight except him so I don’t believe it, even when he stops at my table. The low conversation continues around me, but Jake is all I can see, as always. He looks amazing in a white tux that only he could pull off, his brown eyes sparkling as he holds his hand out to me.

  “May I have this dance, Claire?” His deep voice sounds huskier than normal, though that’s probably my imagination. I’ve had this fantasy so many times that I can practically recite our lines, but this time I want it to be unrehearsed.

  I let him lead me onto the dance floor. He’s been out here a lot tonight too, with his date, with friends, with my group when we staged an impromptu conga line and pissed off everyone else. But not with me. Jake is one of my best friends, but he’s so careful with me. He never crosses any lines, no matter how hard I wish he would. I keep giving him opportunities, and he never takes them. This dance is another one.

  Maybe our last one.

  We fit together just like we did the last time we danced. He pulls me as close as he can. For the first time in I don’t know how long, my curves feel like they were made for a reason—to fit into his angles. I vow that if a teacher separates us, I’ll go Rambo on their ass, even if I’d probably just make a fool of myself. This is the only moment I’ll get like this with Jake. Graduation is in three days. I’m planning to leave here, unless something happens to change my mind. I’ll be eighteen and starting a life of my own, for better or worse.

  Tonight is the last time the line between the teenage world and the adult one will blur; it might be my only chance to change my stars.

  I lay my head on Jake’s shoulder as the song plays. It’s probably my imagination, but I think I feel his lips on my temple. I sigh as we sway in a slow circle. I’ve imagined this before, but now I don’t know where to start.

  Adrenaline pumps through me, and I can feel tears in my eyes. I want the song to last forever, but I know it won’t. When I raise my head, my gaze travels from Jake’s mouth to his eyes. Those familiar eyes have always held a smile just for me. I see him in all his incarnations throughout the years, from stocky preteen, brash freshman, to senior quarterback. My confidante in our tree house when we were teens. My savior the night my sophomore boyfriend tried to take things too far outside the Christmas dance. My best friend, the person I trust most. I listen to his dating woes and rescue him from boring family dinners.

  Can I do this? Can I cross the line past friendship into something more? Is it worth the risk? Will we burn brighter than I have with any other boy, or will we fizzle out like a shooting star? Will we make it past high school and into adulthood? Will we glimpse forever? Or will we just have this one night, this one moment? And if that’s all we have, will it be enough? Will it be worth changing everything?

  “Jake.” He raises a hand and pushes my curls out of my eyes, his fingers lingering on my skin. My mouth goes dry.

  “Claire…”

  I laugh nervously. “You go first.” I’m really thinking ‘Kiss me.’ I think it over and over again as the song draws to a close, because we’re running out of time.

  “I just wanted to say…no matter what happens, I’m so happy we’ve stayed friends all these years.” He swallows twice, like there’s more he wants to say, but he isn’t sure of the words. Then he puts a few inches of space between us. “Best friends. You’re my best friend, Claire.”

  Friends. My hands are still curled into his suit jacket, but I feel all my adrenaline disappear and I open my fists. Disappointment lodges in my throat like a sob, and I see my one chance disappear. With a dying smile, I let Jake go.

  Fo
r the second time in two days, I rest my head in my hands. “I’m so in over my head.” I let out a quiet moan.

  “I’m going to go get us something stronger.” I hear the clinking of glasses, then Sloane is gone.

  Another song starts, this one fast and loud. Once I get the next drink down, I’ll definitely unceremoniously dump my worries for a few minutes. I’m probably a terrible dancer, but I always have a good time shaking the Wright family genes on a dance floor. There’s something so freeing about closing my eyes and just dancing the shit out of a song.

  I hear someone plunk a glass on the table, but I don’t even bother raising my head. “That better be my alcohol,” I say.

  A rumbling laugh follows my words. A decidedly not-Sloane, not-even-female laugh. “It’s mine actually, but if you need it…”

  My eyes fly open. Suddenly, I’m all too aware of the fact I’m the definition of a hot mess. I try to always look great, if only for myself, but I can’t even make any excuses tonight. I threw on jeans and a slouchy shirt, and I’m not wearing any makeup. At all.

  Jake, by contrast, might has well have stepped away from a modeling shoot. He’s wearing a tight-as-sin black T-shirt and faded jeans. The shirt clings to his chest in a way I’d like to, so I jerk my gaze upward, but that’s no better. I’m short enough that my eye level just happens to be his mouth, which is curving into a bemused grin the longer I stare—and I can’t seem to stop.

  Whatever he’s selling, I’m buying. In bulk.

  “If you look at me like that around your family, they’ll definitely believe we’re dating.” Jake knocks back his drink while I consider the pros and cons of simply turning and running. Eventually I decide to stay, because depriving myself of ogling his muscles really would be a shame.

  My only saving grace is either he really doesn’t realize I’m eye-sexing the hell out of him, or he knows and he isn’t letting on. If it’s the former, he must have smoked too much pot in high school, but if it’s the latter, I probably (okay, definitely) love him more than ever.

  “Just practicing.” Tossing my hair with an ease I don’t feel, I eye Jake from under my lashes. He’s leaning against the table looking like he belongs here. Like he’s totally at ease. I want his confidence, but I’ve never been entirely relaxed around him. There’s always been tension, at least for me. I’ve always felt unbearably bowed around him.

  “So, out celebrating the new job?”

  “Yep. Plus, I just signed a lease for an apartment of my own…” I pause, smirking at him. Fake it ‘til you make it. “And I have a new boyfriend.”

  He nods, pretending to consider this information, and his eyes gleam. “New boyfriend, huh? This guy gonna move you into your new place?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sloane approaching us. “Maybe,” I say. “He seems reliable. So if he wants to help, he could come by 25 Pine Avenue day after tomorrow.” My heart is beating way too fast for this encounter, but there’s no way I can slow it. This has always been my normal around Coop.

  He collects his glass and winks at me. “I’ll see you then, Claire.”

  Then he’s gone, blending into the crowd. I’m still staring after him when Sloane reappears at my side. I grab one of the shot glasses out of her hand before she can say a word. Then I down it.

  “I’m never gonna survive fake-dating Jake Cooper.”

  Chapter Six

  After the door closes behind my parents, I stand in the middle of my kitchen for a long moment. The quiet settles around me long after they’ve likely driven away, but I can’t stop staring at my apartment, letting it all sink in. It’s mine. They applied for the spot with me, but it’s my name on the lease. I’ve never had a place that’s my own to decorate or trash, mine to make into a home.

  I laugh aloud just because I can. Then I hook my phone into my speakers and start the first fast country song I see. This calls for a dance party.

  After I shake my hips, warming up, I get into the song, really lose myself in the melody and the fiddle. At some point, I start belting out the chorus, and then I don’t stop singing. It’s not the embarrassed singing you do in the car with your friends because you’re too shy to let them hear you. It’s loud and proud, and I don’t hold it back as I move around my kitchen. I’m showing the countertops moves I didn’t even think I had. For once, I’m not worrying if my butt is too big or if I look silly. I’m having the time of my life.

  I’m breathless with my new freedom.

  Until the sound of applause interrupts my moment.

  Shrieking, I turn toward the door. The open door. My heart is doing something akin to a samba by the time I register that it isn’t an intruder creeping on my impromptu dance. It’s Jake, who obviously came in because I didn’t close the door entirely earlier.

  I press a hand to my heart. “You scared the crap out of me!” He steps into my apartment and closes the door slowly behind him. The light glints in his eyes and highlights his stubble. There’s a day’s worth of scruff along his jaw. Who knew he could make the unshaven look seem so…hot? And somehow he’s managing to make a backwards baseball cap look sexy. Man, he just doesn’t play fair.

  “You know, you gotta lock the door when you’re home alone.” He takes a step closer to me. Is it my imagination or are his eyes darkening? Does that happen in real life?

  “Why’s that?” I raise my brows. I know I’m playing a dangerous game, but when I’m around him, I can’t help it. I can tell myself that I’m ready for this all I want, but the truth is, I’m not. My reactions to Coop are too strong. Sloane already cautioned me last night, but clearly I didn’t listen.

  “Someone could just barge in,” Jake says. When he advances on me, his eyes lock on mine. “And…”

  Without meaning to, I retreat slowly. “And what?”

  Jake closes the space between us and takes my hand. His is warm as it swallows mine. I take a breath that’s more like a gasp, just as he puts his other arm around my back and dips me. I slam my eyes shut and yelp because I expect to hit the floor, but I don’t. Instead, I’m suspended in Jake’s arms; when I open my eyes, his lips are so close to mine. I stare at his mouth, memorizing the shape all over again.

  “And do this.” Jake’s warm breath caresses my face.

  I could kiss him if I wanted—could claim that I'm practicing for the family dinner. I could finally know what it’s like to kiss Jake Cooper, if his mouth fits as perfectly on mine as I’ve imagined. I could loop my arms around his neck and breathe him in until I’m dizzy. It wouldn’t take long.

  But I don’t. “Well, I’ll keep an eye out for the dancing marauders,” I say. I follow it with a gurgling cough-laugh I can’t prevent. The moment shrinks and disappears like a popped balloon. “I should have plenty of time to escape while they’re busting moves.”

  He pulls me to a standing position, shaking his head. “You’re such a smart-ass, Claire.”

  “Everyone needs a talent, Coop.” I bow in his direction with a flourish, but I can’t do it without cracking up. The laughter feels good, soothing, after such an intense moment. I don’t know him well enough anymore to know if he was just getting into his role or if there was more happening. I do know myself well enough to know I can’t let myself hope. Hope is dangerous when it comes to him.

  When he sobers, he gestures around the room. “So why don’t you show me this apartment?”

  It’s just a one-bedroom, so a tour won’t take long, but I oblige him. The apartment is about as nice as one could expect for a first place. It’s in a newer complex in a good neighborhood, and the manager seemed decent. Between what was already here, and my belongings, the place won’t feel empty once I’m settled.

  I show Jake the kitchen, living room, and my bedroom. I try not to blush at the queen-sized bed I brought out of storage. It’s the only furniture in the room so far, and suddenly it looks huge.

  Once we’re back where we started, I eye the mountain of boxes Dad and Wes moved in earlier, and then glance
at Jake. “Now you see what all there is to open. Plus Dad left the trailer outside with my kitchen table, chairs, and so forth.”

  Sloane and I turned the thrift stores in town inside out this morning and found mostly everything I needed. None of it is fancy, except the bed, which was my grandmother’s. We joked about it being my statement piece, but we didn’t talk about Jake. Much. She could tell I’m committed to this ruse, that I’m going to see it through because I think at this point, backing out would do more damage than letting it play out as it will.

  “Okay.” He squares his shoulders. “Let’s get to work.”

  For the rest of the morning, that’s what we do. Jake hauls in what he can, and we work together to move in the couch Mama gave me. Jake growls playfully at me when I ask him to move it to two different spots in the living room, but he does what I ask. We work together on anything heavy, though he shows off a few times, refusing to let me help. I get to ogle his muscles though, so I don’t mind. While he’s being all macho, I work on sorting boxes.

  Slowly, the apartment starts to come together. I tell him I can handle everything in the bedroom, and smack his arm for the leer my remark produces. We work on unpacking dishes and the like in the kitchen, then move to the living room. Jake tries to “help” me put my books on my small bookshelf, but when he puts everything in the wrong place, I chase him away to make a food run.

  While he’s gone, I fix my bookshelf, and then turn my attention to my bedroom. When I go through the boxes and find my intimates, I blush at the thought of Jake seeing my bras or panties. No one has in a month or so, and even though I want someone to see them at some point soon, this isn’t exactly what I imagined.

  As I’m hanging clothes in my closet, I finally feel calm. Thanks to today, I’m starting to remember the friendship Jake and I had before I moved and how, despite my pesky unrequited love, we always got along so well. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us. I never let myself think about him when I was gone, but now I can’t believe I went so many years without him in my life. Even though the circumstances are wacky, I’m glad we’re getting to know each other again.