by Molli Moran
It all reverberates through me: my panting breaths, the quiet groan Jake makes. I’m barely standing when he turns me in his arms so I’m facing him. I can’t even hide when I look up at him. I’m bared for him, my breathing still uneven. He puts his arms around me, and I lean into him for support. I kiss his neck like he did mine, and I feel his chest hitch. I doubt anyone realizes what just happened between us, but to hell if they do. I’m not ready to let this moment end.
We slow-dance sweetly, until the songs taper into silence. By the time the DJ announces last call at the bar, I can barely keep my eyes open. I feel so sleepy, but so safe. When Jake walks me back to the girls, his hand on the small of my back, I let myself hope that they’re right. That this is real. He presses a kiss to my temple before he tells me that he’ll call me tomorrow. Dazed, I stare after him.
What happened between us tonight wasn’t pretend. It was real. It had to be.
And I’ve never been happier in my life.
Chapter Seventeen
“You look amazing.” Sloane finishes pinning my hair into a French twist, and then meets my eyes in the mirror. “You’re going to be the most beautiful person at the gala, Sophie.”
“You and I both know I only care what one person there thinks.” I reach to pat my hair, and Sloane knocks my hand away.
“Don’t mess with my masterpiece. I worked hard on it.” She grins at me when I turn to face her.
“I know you did. Thank you so much.”
Sloane nods as I glance at the mirror again, taking a final look at the version of me she’s created. With my sophisticated hair, the subtle makeup, and the understated jewelry, I don’t look like my usual self. I insisted on keeping my piercings in, and the dress doesn’t even begin to cover my tattoos. But there’s something different. A light in my eyes I’m not used to seeing. A light that’s there because of Jake, because of my friends and family.
“So are you nervous about seeing his family in this setting? Black tie is pretty fancy-schmancy. And I know this is important to Mr. Cooper, to get his candidacy off right.” Sloane starts packing things back in her overwhelmingly large makeup bag.
Giving the girl in the mirror a last look, I face Sloane. I know the Coopers approve of Jake and me, but I want them to continue to see that I’m in this…and I think Jake is, too.
“No,” I say, sitting on my couch. “I’m not nervous. I saw them the other day for dinner and it went well. Besides, you know as well as I do that the rest of this town can get bent if they don’t like me.” Giggling, I wink at her.
“I taught you so well.”
Sobering, I meet her gaze. “I do want the Coopers to approve of me, though.”
Sloane nods. “They better.”
I nod and check my phone. Jake should be here any minute, and the thought of seeing him fills me with energy. I just saw him last night for drinks, but lately, I just…need to be around him. Stolen moments at work aren’t enough. Our rambling phone calls aren’t enough. I need to see him in person, so I can hear him laugh, see his eyes crinkle at the corners, and hold his hand. I need to feel his breath on my cheek when he whispers in my ear. I need to feel the press of his hand on the small of my back as we enter a room.
Something changed between us after that night at Time Out. It’s been over three weeks, and even though we haven’t done more than kiss, our interactions have changed. I think we both realized we were moving too fast. He hasn’t brought up that night and neither have I, but every time I look at him at work, he’s already gazing at me. When he does touch me, he lingers. He holds my hand when we’re in person, whether we’re walking into a restaurant, driving, or just watching a movie at his apartment.
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?” I jolt back to the present, and look at Sloane.
“I said, you’re doing it again.” She frowns. “Daydreaming about Jake.”
“Maybe I was thinking about work.”
She chokes on her sip of water and a hacking sound is all that emerges. “Right,” she says finally. “Cappuccino makes you so happy that you get a silly grin on your face.” She reaches for my notebook on the coffee table. “If I open this, am I going to find pages with Sophie + Coop scribbled on them?” She snickers.
Snatching the book away from her, I hug it to my chest. “No. You’ll see all the new songs I’ve written recently.” It’s true. Since Jake, I’ve felt inspired. I’ve written ten songs in the last few weeks, which is more than I wrote during the last month I lived in Nashville. Ten good songs. I've written music for them, too. I’m singing again, something I wasn’t doing much of before I left Nash. I’m also busy practicing for the upcoming showcase.
“Love songs?” Sloane eyes me. “Look, Soph, obviously I’m happy for you, but you know my fears on this fake relationship thing.”
Letting out my breath in a whoosh, I set my songbook back on the table. “That’s just it. I’m not sure it’s fake anymore. Things feel different between us. More…” I struggle for the words. “More intimate. We laugh a lot, sure, but he touches me for no reason. He calls me every night, no matter how late it is when I get home. And when we’re together…” I sigh. “I know you’ll say it’s just a crush, but I feel like I’m falling for him all over again.”
“Sophie…”
“Not just that,” I say. “For so many years, I’ve been the girl who loves Jake. And for a while that’s all I was. But then I moved away, and my horizons and perceptions changed. When I came back here, and he and I started this whole thing, I wasn’t the teenager I’d been when I left. We’re both adults, we’re both at the point in our lives where we’re looking to build futures, and…” My heart is racing because I know he’s due here any minute.
“And?” Sloane’s tone is wary.
“This feels different. Less like a crush, and more like something real.” I know I’m not explaining well, but I’m trying. “I feel like I’m seeing who he really is, who he’s becoming, and I think we’re better around each other. Better because of and for each other, but also for ourselves. I feel like I’m falling in love with him, the real him, for the first time. And maybe I’m crazy, Sloane, but I think…I think he’s falling for me, too.”
Sloane’s eyes are impossibly bright. “I hope you’re right.”
___ ___ ___
I snag a glass of champagne from a circulating waiter. I’ve somehow ended up in the middle of a group of Southern belles, who eyed me once, twice, three times, before they decided to let me stay. It’s my second drink, and I see a few well-tweezed eyebrows rise as I take a sip, but I don’t let them get to me. I went to school with Victoria, only she was Vicky then, a stoner kid. She and the others have spent the last fifteen minutes making veiled remarks about people who work for a living, and how dreadful it would be to have to serve the general public. They’ve flaunted their wealth through barbed comments, and I basically want to smack them.
“Sophie-Claire, that’s a beautiful dress.” Lila, possibly the only genuine one in this viper’s nest offers me a sweet, tentative smile.
I brush the waistline of my dress. It’s a rental, but the golden color flatters me. I love it, from the floor length that makes me feel like a princess, to the bow that waterfalls into extra material down the front, to the simple one-strap design. It’s an amazing gown for an amazing night.
Let these bitches eat their hearts out.
I’m on Jake’s arm tonight. I’ve already chatted with his parents, and told his father he has my full support. Edward is announcing his candidacy for mayor, and I’m obviously biased, but I think he’s a shoo-in for the job. He’s always been a hard working man, never content to simply be well-off. He told me once he wanted to leave his mark on the world. He really cares about his employees and his friends. He always treated me and my parents like family, and I think he loves this town very much. I think he’ll win and make an amazing mayor.
“Yes, it’s…lovely,” Victoria says. She tries to smile at me, but her
mouth barely moves. Does she even remember how? “How did you ever afford it?”
“Thanks, Vicky.” Her dress is beautiful too, but it probably cost as much as my rent for a year. “Yours is really great, too.”
Charlaine touches my arm, and I move away before I can stop myself. “Your tattoos are so vivid.” She traces the ink on my skin, and I just know vivid isn’t the word she wanted to use. The others join in when she lets out a simpering laugh. “I could never get one. I think they’re just… Barbaric.” She gazes slyly at me. “But you pull them off well.”
I bare my teeth at all of them in a gesture that isn’t at all a smile. Barbaric? Okay then.
Folding my arms across my chest, I let them see it all. Let them see me. Tattoos. Nose piercing. Sloane tried to hide me behind a fancy hairdo, makeup, and heels, but the truth is, I’m not this girl in the gold dress. I’ve always known who I am, but in the last few months, I’ve really come to terms with what it means to be me in this small town. The truth is? I’m not fancy. I’m not polished—and I don’t want to be.
I’m the girl who will always be more at home in cowboy boots and vintage sundresses. The girl with a few extra pounds, who usually wants dessert after a full meal. The girl who sometimes laughs after everyone else is done. The girl who stood up for Sloane at our debutante ball when the other debs wanted to blackball her because her escort was another girl. The girl who helped a group of lonely freshmen crash one of Jake’s Hay Loft parties and made sure they had the night of their lives. The girl who learned to hold her head high amidst whispers, who learned real friends never make you doubt yourself, and who finally realized that loving yourself is the only validation you need.
I don’t ever want to be anyone but me. A holder of random dance parties. The girl who belts out a song while stuck in traffic. I may not belong here at this gala, with these snooty girls, but there is a place for me.
This is what they get. All they get. I won’t change for anyone but myself, ever. This? Is me. I’ll wear a flower in my hair any day over diamond earrings. I’d rather serve coffee to people I like at Freshly Ground, then sit in a huge house like these women, alone. I may not be rich, and I sure as hell don’t have their wardrobes, but I love myself, and I’m not sure they could say the same. It’s taken a long while, including some dark nights and days, and a lot of tears, but I wouldn’t undo any of it. It all got me here. It made me the girl—woman—I am. And I love her, flaws and all.
Barbaric? I’ll wear that label proudly. They haven’t seen any fucking thing yet.
“Ladies.” Jake has impeccable timing, considering I’m about to get myself escorted out of his dad’s party. He slips an arm around my waist, and I count to ten once, then again. Slowly, I start to feel grounded. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to steal my girl away for a few minutes. I think I owe her a dance.”
I hear them start whispering as he leads me toward the dance floor, but they’re already behind me. I don’t give them another thought. There will always be someone who doesn’t like my tattoos, or my piercings, or who thinks I’m too loud, or too inappropriate. There will always be people who, despite my best efforts, don’t like me. I won’t win everyone over, but that’s okay. They can take me as I am, or watch me walk away.
“What are we doing?”
He guides us to an open space, and keeping an arm around my waist, he leans toward me. “Making everyone jealous.”
I stare open-mouthed at Jake for a few seconds before I force myself to regain my composure. In the time it takes me to breathe normally again, he’s already spun me away, into the crowd.
He’s perfect. In the last weeks, I’ve seen him drunk once at the Hay Loft, which was hilarious, and I’ve seen him lose his temper once when a shipment to Freshly Ground was delayed. But I’ve also seen him give a cookie from the counter case to a little girl who was sad after having to go to the doctor. I’ve seen him helping Cassidy with her homework, and overheard him giving Cassidy’s boy a pep talk about how to ask her on a date. And I’ve seen him back down two huge-ass guys who were harassing Nolan. He never ceases to amaze me. He’s charming, and funny, and loyal—and mine. Isn’t he?
We dance in silence, because I’m not sure I could say anything to make this moment any better. I forget about the viper belles. I forget where we are or that people might be watching, because the only person I can see is Jake. He commands my full attention, without even asking for it. He never has, but he’s always had it, as well as my heart.
He turns me in slow circles, spins me away from him, and then pulls me back until I just brush against his chest. It’s nothing but a whisper, but I feel it all the way through me. I shudder, meeting his eyes. They’re bright, and they’re focused on me. A smile blooms on his lips, and he moves us exactly how I imagined, without me having to say anything. I feel cocooned here with him as we sway and spin in between the other dancers. I half-expect them to make room for us like in a movie, but if they do, I don’t notice. I could leave the ground and I wouldn’t even know it, as long as I’m still in Jake’s arms.
Every second feels heavy. Infinite. My lips part. I want to tell him how I feel. I want to say his name, but before I can, the song ends. He brushes a kiss across my lips, but I barely taste him before he straightens.
“I’ve got to go grab my speech from my coat, but I’ll be back with you as soon as I can.” He squeezes my hand and walks out of the room. He’s giving a short talk about his dad and his mayoral race soon.
I stand at the edge of the dance floor. I know I should wait here for him to go find his coat in the room where we all checked ours, but something pulls me toward the door. There’s something trembling between us, something that could disappear, or transform at any minute. I don’t have time to wait. I have to tell him now. Everything in me pushes me forward.
I hurry after Jake. I don’t see him in the corridor, so I make the turn toward the entrance. My steps slow when I hear a throaty giggle. I know that sound, and even though I try to stop before I see her, my body doesn’t get the message on time. I stand here frozen after she comes into view, and I can feel my face draining of blood as the images in front of me register.
Victoria.
Kissing Jake.
My Jake.
Tears blur my vision. I blink and they fall, but I can’t even swipe at them. They haven’t seen me yet, so I sag against the wall, stumbling behind an alcove. I’m safely hidden, but barely standing. I want to run away, but I don’t have the energy to move.
“No.” It’s Jake’s voice. I close my eyes, letting his timbre wash over me. “No, Victoria.”
“Why not?” She hisses the words, syllables like claws. “What’s the matter with you?”
I fist a hand in my dress to keep from crying out. Is he…rejecting her? I fight every signal my body is giving me to leave, and try to stay still instead. Each breath is a ragged prayer.
“Victoria, I’m with someone.” He sounds closer, like he’s walking away from her.
“So?” Her voice rises; she sounds like she’s going after him. “Everyone wants me. You’re lucky I’m offering you this chance.”
Jake exhales loudly. “You may think that’s true, but when it comes down to it, I don’t want you.” New tears flood my vision. “I have a girlfriend, and if anyone is lucky, Victoria, I am. I’m lucky to be hers.” He pauses. “And I am hers. By some miracle I don’t understand, I think Claire Wright wants me, so I’m hers. No one else’s.” His voice is quiet but undeniably firm.
Victoria is silent for a long moment. She finally sniffs, and I hear a swishing sound. “You’ll regret this, Jake Cooper.”
He’s silent for a few seconds after she flounces away, then he laughs. It sounds like pure joy, mixed with relief. “No,” he whispers, “I won’t.”
My legs give out after I hear Jake leave. I sink to the floor in a puddle of gold fabric, letting my skirt billow around me. If I had doubts before and wondered if we were real, they’re gone. Vanished. I may
not be able yet to put words to what I’m feeling for Jake, and what he’s feeling for me, but I know the truth as well as I know my own name: we aren’t faking it anymore.
Chapter Eighteen
As soon as I get home from work, I shower and then change into a pair of obscenely comfortable yoga pants and a worn, soft T-shirt. It has a hole in the hem, but I don’t care. All I want to be is comfortable, because tonight, after the longest week in creation, I’m finally, blessedly alone. I’ve been surrounded all week—by Sloane, my guardian angel, and by Mina, always watching my back at work. By Cassidy, her face in a constant frown as she watches me. Everyone I love knows I haven’t been myself for the last week.
Trudging toward my couch, I snag a blanket and my headphones. They’re a retro pair I snagged at a flea market, and I love them. They’re huge, and they must send some epic “go away” signal out in the universe because no one bothers me when I wear them in public. Tonight, I turn on something loud and raw, and huddle in the corner of the couch, the blanket pulled over me. It’s not really cold out, yet but the blanket is a comfort thing. And I need to be comforted after this week. Everyone has tried, but the hugs and worried looks get suffocating after awhile.
My phone buzzes once, then again. When I check, I see texts from Mina and Sloane, but I don’t make any effort to answer them. They know I’m at home. I haven’t been out except for work, a visit to my parent’s house, and one grocery trip all week. When I’m not working, I’m here, just trying to breathe.
A week. Is that all it’s been? I worry at my lip as the music pulses through me. A week since I overheard Jake affirming our relationship is real. A week since I eventually walked back into the ballroom feeling like nothing more than ashes and dust. I’ve held it together the last few days, but the truth is, I’m terrified. I don’t know how to accept the reality of my long-cherished dream coming true.