Page 56 of Echoes of a Southern Song

Chapter Twenty

Jinnie

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I HESITATE, MY CHEEKS still burning from the scene I just caused. But Jack’s hand is warm in mine, his eyes telling me he did care about me. “Come on,” he says again, softer this time. “You don’t have to stay long. Just come in with me. Let me finish this set, and then we’ll leave.”

I bite my lip, torn between my pride and the ache in my chest that just wants to be near him. “Fine,” I mutter finally. “But if anyone gives me a look, I’m out.”

He grins, relief flashing across his face. “Deal.”

He leads me back inside, my hand tight in his. The bar is still buzzing, the crowd oblivious to the drama that just unfolded outside. Jack heads straight for the stage, pulling me along with him until we’re standing just off to the side, out of the direct spotlight.

“Stay here,” he says, squeezing my hand before letting go. “You’ll see me better from this angle anyway.”

“Okay.”

I watch him climb back upstairs. The crowd erupts into cheers as he grabs his guitar and gives them that crooked grin of his.

“All right,” he says into the mic. “I think it’s time for something a little different.” He glances at me briefly before strumming the opening chords of the song. The crowd quiets almost immediately.

It’s my song. He starts to sing, his gaze finding mine. There are women surround the stage, but he’s looking at me. My heart soars as he sings the lyrics I know so well.

I stand there and watch him. Yes, he’s playing to the crowd. I have to accept that. It’s what he does. I just have to trust that he’s going to be faithful to me.

After his set, he doesn’t stick around to give an encore. He grabs his guitar, then my hand, and once again we’re going out the back door.

“Do you need to stay and help Aggie?” I ask.

“Nah, she can handle it.”

“My place?” I ask.

“Yes. I think we need to talk.”

I nod. “Yeah, we do.”

He follows me to my place. It’s a little strange at first. Like neither of us really knows what to say. I’m embarrassed by my blow-up.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. I just... I saw her looking at you, and it made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like maybe you’d realize I’m not the kind of girl who belongs in that world.”

Jack steps closer, his hand reaching for mine. “Jinnie, you are enough. You’re more than enough. That world—the bars, the stage, the crowds—it’s not who I am. It’s what I do. But you? You’re who I come home to. Or want to, anyway.”

I swallow hard, my throat tight. “But what if that changes? What if you get bigger gigs, or someone offers you a record deal, and suddenly you’re on the road all the time? What happens to us then?”

He sighs. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But I know I don’t want to lose you over something that hasn’t even happened yet. We can figure it out as we go. Isn’t that what people do?”

“People who are good at this stuff, maybe,” I mutter. “But I’m not exactly great at relationships.”

“Neither am I,” he says with a small smile. “But we’re here, aren’t we? Trying?”

He leads me to the small couch. We sit down with him pulling me close.

“I think we’ve both been dealing with our own shit the last couple of weeks,” he says. “We’re both putting in long hours and I know we haven’t talked much.”

“No, we haven’t,” I agree. “And I’m sorry. How have things been with you? Have you talked to your family much?”

He scoffs. “I talked to my brothers. Definitely not my dad. Once was enough.”