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“Stop lying!” she cries.
I’m not lying!
I make an aggravated noise through my clenched teeth.
Jack fists the back of my shirt, pulling me away.
She tosses the empty cup at him, and I smack it aside. “Back off!”
“What did you just tell my daughter?” Her mom emerges from the restaurant with a to-go container. She pushes the girl behind her back. “You’re grown men. You should know better than to be talking to a thirteen-year-old in the middle of the night on the street.”
I hear Donnelly in my head. Miss, we’re on the sidewalk.
He’d make it worse, but fuck I miss the laugh.
“I’m not trying to fight with a teenager,” I tell her. “And I’m also not the one who threw a milkshake on another person.”
Her eyes ping down to her daughter. “Claire?”
That’s my exit.
I spin around and walk alongside Jack towards…? “Did you park around here?” I ask.
“Yeah, two blocks down.” He tries to mop up the milkshake with his dirtied tank.
“Here.” I grip the back of my tee and pull the fabric over my head. I toss him the shirt. “You take all my clothes anyway, Highland.”
His lips rise. “You might not see this one again.” He wipes off pink liquid from his hair. “It’s a Summer Fest tee, right?” He inspects the festival logo while I study his reaction to everything that just happened.
Jack…Highland…
He senses my silence as we walk. “What’s wrong?”
His plea to me. Before the kiss. He said, it’s you and me and anyone who tries to come in, you’ll help me keep out?
You’ll help me keep out.
“You knew,” I realize. “You knew that if we kissed in public, in front of cameras, you weren’t just coming out. You knew you’d be confronting the Oslie rumors. You knew you’d be ‘the other man’ to Oscar + Charlie.”
Jack smiles softly. “Understanding public perception is part of my job. And the types of fans who pair you and Charlie are intense. So yeah…I had a good hunch it’d all blow up in my face.”
“And still, you kissed me?” He knew the cost of being with me was astronomically high, and I had no clue.
We stop next to a Mazda parked on the street.
He breathes in. “I would’ve regretted not kissing you. Like I’ve regretted rejecting you in Anacapri.” He swallows hard, rests a hand on his head. “Not to beat around the bush, I’m scared.”
His fast heartrate. The one I felt after we just kissed in public. It wasn’t regret. It was fear. “About what?” I hold his longboard for him.
“Of having millions of enemies,” Jack says with reddened eyes, digging in his pocket for car keys. “It overwhelms me when I consider the hatred I’ve seen and filmed for so long is about to be directed at me.”
It’s crushing me knowing he’s probably right. He’s about to face a tidal wave of negativity. And what can I do?
“I’m trained for this. I’m going to protect you the absolute best I can.” I’m in for the long-haul, Highland. We edge closer, our legs threading as we hug. I press a kiss to his temple, tasting a hint of strawberry.
His fingers stay in mine for another minute before he lets go and unlocks his car. “Coming out tonight actually makes me feel better. Because at least that fear is largely gone…and I’m not in this alone.”
He has me.
Undoubtedly.
I nod, my mouth curving up. “I’m proud of you.”
Highland smiles, a more emotional one, and we hug again, this one tighter and longer.
When we break apart, he asks me, “Where’d you park? I can drop you off at your car. I’ll be at your place tomorrow morning, and we can start early.” He means for the show.
Work might be his distraction technique from emotional bombs.
“The other direction.” I point back towards Woody’s and stare at his hair, matted with dried milkshake. “Let me drive you home. I’ll get my sister to come pick up my car.” I’ll owe Joana one, or twenty, for the favor, but it’ll be worth it.
I just don’t want Jack to be alone tonight.
“Another second with Oscar Oliveira—why not?” He smiles and tosses me the keys, and when I climb into the driver’s seat, I realize I actually have regrets about how this all went down.
I wish I screamed louder and harder back at Woody’s that I don’t like Charlie. I wish I yelled that I like Jack.
I’m dating Jack Highland.
I’m with Jack Highland.
Every phrase in every dictionary that means, he’s it for me.
22
JACK HIGHLAND
The hum of the car’s air conditioning is a familiar, pleasant sound. Back when I lived in SoCal, the sun would beat down on my Mazda, and sometimes I’d just shut off the music as I sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the PCH. Windows rolled down. Fresh wind off the coast cooling me as much as the air from the vents.
