Jack & Sadie

by JB Salsbury

  “After that night, I haven’t trusted myself around alcohol again.”

  He frowns. “Fuck.” The breeze tosses his silky blond hair and his jaw pulses a few times as if he’s working something out using his molars.

  I take pity on him. “We can go to my house, but Ricky will probably be there with a friend. How about your hotel?”

  “Are you sure?” he asks slowly, openly staring at me.

  “You’re going to have to stop treating me like I’m breakable.” After tonight, I feel powerful and a little more in control of my life. I go back into the studio to shut off the lights and grab my purse.

  He follows me. “But you are. Everyone is.”

  I snag my purse. “I’m not as fragile as you think.”

  “I don’t think I’m ready to accept that about you, especially after what I learned tonight.”

  I stop at the curb meet his gaze. “That’s fair.”

  An Uber pulls up and Jack opens the back door, ushering me in, then slides in behind me.

  After a few minutes, he breaks the silence. “I don’t think I properly congratulated you on finishing your degree tonight. Congratulations, Sadie.”

  “Thank you.” I feel shy and a little embarrassed about how long it took me. Thankfully it’s dark, and I hope he can’t see my blush.

  “Don’t do that. Don’t belittle your accomplishment.”

  “What makes you think I am?”

  He tilts his head and smirks adorably. “I may be a little rusty, but I can still read you, Sadie girl.”

  My stomach tumbles in a way it hasn’t tumbled since… well, since the last time Jack and I saw each other on good terms.

  After he stopped calling, I missed feeling loved and cherished by someone else. I agreed to go out with Fabian because he was nice and persistent. But I never once felt giddy around him—not before he forced himself on me and certainly not after.

  I realized after that night that it wasn’t feeling loved and cherished that gave me that falling feeling. It was being loved and cherished by Jack specifically.

  We pull up to the Westin, and Jack helps me out of the car. Once I’m on the sidewalk, he quickly lets go of my hand. He seems afraid of touching me for too long without my permission. I can appreciate that, given all he’s just learned, but with Jack, I’m never afraid.

  The elevator ride is short, and when we get to his hotel room, he pulls his card key from his pocket. With his chin down, he closes his eyes. “I only want to talk. Please don’t think my intentions are anything other than that.”

  Oh darn. Surprised by my thoughts—because being intimate with a man has been the furthest thing from my mind for a very long time—I chalk my response up to instinct. Like muscle memory, my body knows Jack’s body as if it were my own.

  He peers up at me, bashful and maybe even vulnerable. “Are you okay with coming inside?”

  “Don’t be silly.” I place my hand on his and squeeze. “Of course I am.”

  He pushes the door open and flips on the lights. The room is what I’d expect from a five-star hotel in downtown San Diego—modern furniture, expensive-looking bedding, and a great view.

  I place my Blow Pop bouquet on the dresser and grin. He remembered my love for the candy and bypassed the flowers. Jack offers me a drink from the mini-fridge. “I can’t drink one of those. They’re probably ten dollars each.”

  He shrugs and snags a Dr. Pepper, then hands it to me. “Dr. Pepper used to be your favorite.”

  I thank him, because it’s still my favorite. He doesn’t seem conflicted about splurging on the high-dollar beverage, but I can’t stomach spending that kind of cash on a soda I could get from the mini-mart for a dollar, so the can goes unopened.

  He drops his suit coat over the back of a chair, pulls off his tie, and releases the top button of his shirt before he snags a water bottle and sits on the foot of the bed, opposite where I’m seated at the table. “I have to apologize for the way things ended between us—”

  “You don’t—”

  “I was caught up in getting ahead, and in the process, I failed you and I’m…” He runs a hand through his hair then focuses on me. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “You’re not the one who should be apologizing.” At his apparent confusion, I swallow and prepare to confess. “After everything happened with Fabian—”

  “Fuck that guy and his stupid fucking name,” he growls, then grimaces with a muttered apology.

  “I couldn’t tell my parents, but I had to get out of San Diego, so I went home and…” I knot my fingers in my lap. “I was so upset. You have to understand.”

  His brows pinch and he tilts his head.

  “I was crying. A lot.” I suck in a breath. “My parents. Carey. I tried to hide from them, but the fear and humiliation would hit out of nowhere and they assumed it was because I missed you and was upset about our relationship ending.”

  I see the moment the information clicks. He tips his head to the side. “You told them I hurt you.”

  “No, I didn’t, but…” Please don’t hate me. “I didn’t correct them.”

  He breaks eye contact and takes a few seconds to stare blindly over my shoulder before his gaze comes back to mine. “Okay.” He nods.

  I frown. “Okay? My entire family thinks you destroyed me, and I didn’t correct them. How are you okay with that?”

  He seems to think that over. “I’d take a bullet for you. If giving you what you need means vilifying me to your family, that’s fine. Besides, I failed you. I deserved it.”

  “You did not fail me. We were too young to make the kind of promises we made to each other five years ago.”

  He fidgets with the bottle. “And now? How do you feel about making promises to each other now?”

  I laugh uncomfortably. “So much has changed. We don’t really know each other now.”

  He seems taken aback. “Of course we do. I’ll admit a lot has changed for you in the last couple years. But me? I’m still me and I’m…” He chuckles, then sobers and fixes his gaze on mine. “I’m still hopelessly in love you.”

  My stomach plummets and my jaw follows suit.

  He cracks a smile. “I can see you weren’t expecting that.”

  I slam my mouth closed and slowly shake my head. “I wasn’t.”

  “You can’t be that surprised. I felt it the moment I set eyes on you at Tanner’s wedding. It was like I’d gone so long without the missing piece of my soul, I’d forgotten it was even missing. But after seeing you again, the emptiness I feel without you is unbearable.”

  I swallow, unable to find words. Mainly because I don’t know what to say. I’m attracted to Jack, I always have been. He was my first love, my first everything. I miss him touching me, but I’m not ready for sex again and I don’t know if I ever will be. It’s unfair to make any promises when I’m not sure I can be everything he needs.

  “I don’t mean to make things weird,” he says, shifting uncomfortably. “And I’m sorry if this is too much too soon, but I have to be back in New York tomorrow and I can’t leave the state without telling you how I feel.”

  “You realize how silly this sounds, right? We are on opposite sides of the country. History has proven our relationship can’t handle distance. You have a great job in New York, and my exhibition will be on display here in Southern California for a while. We would never work, not like this.”

  “What if it doesn’t have to be like this? What if you ran your exhibition by the curators in some New York galleries?”

  “You want me to move to New York?”

  “I want us to be together. No matter what that looks like, it’s what I want.”

  “I can’t see myself living in New York. Maybe you could move to San Diego?” The words are barely out of my mouth and he’s shaking his head.

  “It would be stupid to give up my job. I make great money.”

  I narrow my eyes on him. “There are more important things in life than money.”


  “Nothing is more important than food. We need it to live. And shelter. And transportation. All these things are paid for with money.”

  I slap my hands on my thighs. “Looks like you’ve got this all figured out, huh?” I stand. “I should get going. It’s late.”

  “Wait!” He jumps up, and although his arms come out to touch me, he doesn’t, and he drops them back to his sides. “Please think about it, okay? We deserve to give us another chance.”

  “As long as it doesn’t inconvenience your life too much, is that right?”

  “No. Dammit, I’m fucking this up.” He looks around, his eyes going to the television. “Watch a movie with me. Please. I want to be close to you. I’ve missed you so much.”

  I cock a hip and lift a brow. “TV. That’s it?”

  “Yes. That’s it. Just a movie, and I promise on my mother’s grave I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

  “Your mother’s still alive.”

  He shrugs and grins that cocky smile I love. Loved. Past tense. “I promise on my mother’s future grave.”

  “That’s not even a thing.”

  He pops his lower lip in an exaggerated pout.

  “Not the lip. Fine! I’ll stay, but only for a half a movie.” I kick off my heels and crawl onto the king-sized bed.

  When my back is to the headboard and my legs are crossed at the ankles, he takes a similar position next to me and presses buttons on the remote. Warmth expands in my chest. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so safe. Maybe it’s because my exhibition is finally over and all those memories I put on canvas are locked away in an art studio, in the dark and far away from my mind. Or maybe it’s Jack. His presence brings me back to a simpler time when I knew exactly what I wanted and I knew what he wanted was me. And that was good enough for us. I try not to overanalyze the feeling and simply relax into it.

  And shortly into Top Gun, I fall asleep.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jack

  I wake to the sound of my alarm. My eyes dart open to see generic hotel furniture, and it takes me a bit to remember where I am. I blink, wondering why I’m so tired without being the least bit hungover. Then I remember.

  Sadie.

  The movie.

  She fell asleep right after Maverick hit on Charlie at the bar. And once Sadie’s eyes were closed, the movie held zero appeal. With a big fucking smile, I watched her sleep, as if I were some sort of sick, deranged psychopath. How long has it been since I had Sadie in my bed?

  After Goose died, I folded the comforter over Sadie and fell asleep next to her.

  With a grin, I roll onto my back then over, only to frown when I find the spot where she had been last night empty. And the comforter is folded over me. She left sometime in the night without saying goodbye?

  I grab my phone and hit her number, rubbing my eyes and yawning. The call goes straight to voicemail. I check the time and decide if I shower quickly and forgo coffee or breakfast, I can leave early enough to swing by her place—ya know, to make sure she got home okay. And ask her why the hell she snuck out of my bed.

  In record time, I’m showered, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and have my duffle slung over my shoulder as I wait for my Uber. Thankfully, it’s less than a ten-minute drive to Hillcrest. With my driver waiting, I jog to her door and knock. No answer. I continue to bang on the door for another five minutes, then check to see Ricky’s truck is gone.

  “Dammit!” I stomp back to the car and pull out my phone as we make our way to the airport.

  When she doesn’t answer my call again, I open the myBubble app.

  * * *

  How was your exhibition?

  * * *

  I want to ask her if anyone special showed up and what she did after, but I can’t. At this point, I just need to know Sadie is okay.

  Her reply finally comes after I’ve been herded through security, and as I’m going up the elevator to the terminal, I read her response.

  * * *

  It was amazing. Better than I ever could’ve imagined. I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

  * * *

  Okay, so Sadie is alive. Then why did she leave?

  * * *

  What made it amazing?

  * * *

  I hunt down my flight gate and have to apologize for bumping into travelers as I stare at my phone. Sadie responds, telling Dawn all about the curator from Los Angeles and the crowd. I notice she doesn’t give away the content of her pieces or anything about that fuckwad Fabian. She also avoids any mention of me.

  Not good.

  I find my gate and drop into a seat, mumbling a string of curse words.

  “Bad morning?”

  I know that voice.

  I lift my eyes to find the object of my obsession sitting across from me, and I smile so hard my cheeks hurt. Sadie. “You could say that.”

  She’s wearing a tight blue sweater, her hair long and straight and falling over her shoulders, and a pair of black leggings. A backpack sits at her side. I spot her phone face down in her lap, and she’s holding a coffee. She grins and takes a sip. “You feel like talking about it?”

  I close the myBubble app before she can see it and shove my phone into my duffle before leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. “I fell asleep last night with a beautiful woman then woke up alone.”

  She sucks air through her teeth. “Ouch. That sucks.”

  “Tell me about it.” I slump back in my seat, my heart beating a steady pace as the peace that comes from her presence and her smile washes over me. Legs wide and unable to swipe my grin off my face, I continue. “She didn’t even say goodbye.”

  She shrugs. “Maybe that’s because she wasn’t ready to say goodbye. And maybe she had a bag to pack and a plane to catch.”

  I chuckle and resist the urge to pull her into my lap and kiss her breathless. I grip the armrests to keep from doing just that. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  She flashes her ticket, and I catch the only information I need.

  8:20 a.m. to New York.

  “How’d you know?”

  Her face pinches. “You told me last night.”

  I shake my head. “No, I didn’t.”

  She laughs. “Okay, fine. I texted Andrea My Assistant from your phone and asked which airline and what time the flight leaves.”

  “You did that this morning?”

  “You should really password protect your phone.”

  My muscles tense when I consider what would’ve happened had she seen the myBubble app on my phone. Thankfully it’s three swipes from the home screen and she’s never been the snooping type. “I can’t believe I didn’t feel you get out of bed.”

  She shrugs and sips her coffee. “You were snoring like a baby.”

  “Do babies snore?”

  “Of course.”

  We share a drawn-out moment of eye contact that’s broken by the announcement that our flight is boarding. I ignore my seating assignment and stick close to Sadie, unable to stop looking at her.

  “What?” she says as we shuffle down the jetway that leads to the plane.

  “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

  Her expression turns serious and maybe a little concerned. “I thought a lot about what you said last night, about how we owe us a chance to try again. With my exhibition over and no work until Wednesday, I figured why not treat myself to a couple days in New York?”

  It’s brave, and ballsy, and probably stupid, but I slip my hand in hers and squeeze. She flinches and blows out a tiny breath. I’m about to apologize and release her when she flashes a wavy grin and squeezes my hand back.

  I allow Sadie to lead the way to the back of the plane and her assigned seat. The back of her seat is against the lavatory wall, so not only will it stink, but she also won’t be able to recline. Literally the worst seat on the plane. A young guy wearing earphones and already asleep is on the aisle seat and a woman occupies the middle seat next to Sadie. Her seat be
lt already fastened and her nose buried in a book. When she sees Sadie, she hops up to allow her through.

  “Hi there, what’s your name?” I say to the other passenger.

  She narrows her gaze. “Linda.”

  Linda is older, probably in her sixties. Should be an easy sell.

  “I’d like to switch seats with you, Linda. If that’s all right?”

  She looks skeptical. When I wave the ticket in front of her, she doesn’t even look at it. “Why?”

  “Because I’m madly in love with this girl here,” I say and watch Sadie’s beautiful skin flush pink. “And I can’t fathom being on the same plane and not close enough to hold her hand.”

  Linda grins but eyes my ticket.

  “I think you’ll be happy with it. You’ll be able to put your seat back at least. So? What do you say, want to switch?”

  She gathers her things. “Sure, I guess that’s fine.” I hand her the ticket and, after looking at it, she laughs. “First—”

  “The stewardess should be able to help you find your seat.”

  “Is there a problem here?” a steward says as he studies us gathered in the aisle.

  “Nope, no problem at all,” I say, nodding to where my booty should be.

  Linda’s still staring at her ticket. I talk a little faster and get her moving, and thankfully, she eventually moves on up to first class. I drop into the middle seat with Sadie at the window. Literally the worst possible seat on the entire plane, but I don’t care. I’m with my girl. I turn and smile at her, then rephrase in my head.

  Woman. Most definitely a woman.

  “Jack Daniels?” She leans in close, and the feel of her breath against my ear brings a soft moan from my throat. “Did you give up your first-class seat to sit back here with the peasants in coach?”

  I sigh and my shoulders drop. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. I get the feeling you already see me as some pretentious prick with more money than sense. I didn’t want to reinforce your opinion of me.”