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Tripp is coming over tonight, and if my hands would stop shaking, that’d be great. I’ve been too afraid to ask Jimmy whether Tripp was receptive to coming here tonight. All I can control is me. At the end of the day, he doesn’t have to accept my apology. He’s entitled to his feelings.
I shove the wrapper into the garbage and place the frozen garlic bread on a baking sheet. My eyes land on the clock on the microwave. Tripp will be here any minute.
Lasagna is a little hearty for California, but it’s one of the few dishes I can make. I have enough on my mind today, and I didn’t want to stress too hard on dinner.
The doorbell rings, Tripp having let himself in through the gate. I glance at the sliding doors. Jimmy is out on the deck, on his phone. Guess it’s time.
I will my racing heart to settle down, reminding myself to control what I can control. I grip the doorknob, inhale one calming breath, and I open the door. Tripp stands there with a wary expression, which I’ll concede as a good sign since it’s not his usual scowl when I’m around.
“Hi, Tripp.”
He nods and steps into the house. “Lilah. How are you doing?”
“Good… better…”
A small smile tilts the corner of his lips and he shoves his hands into his shorts’ pockets. We stand there awkwardly for a moment, neither of us saying a word.
“Come on in. Dinner is almost ready. Jimmy is on the phone, but I’m sure he’ll be done soon.” At least I hope so. God, this is so awkward.
“Something smells good,” he says, following me into the kitchen.
“I’m making lasagna.” My cheeks heat. It’s completely ridiculous to invite someone over for lasagna in the middle of summer. “I know it’s weird to have it in the summer—”
“Are you kidding me? Do you know how long it’s been since I ate a home-cooked meal?” He sits at the breakfast bar while I open the oven door.
The weight on my shoulders lightens. He’s trying. That knowledge eases the anxiety creeping over my skin.
“Jimmy mentioned that the band has been back in the studio, working on a new album?” I close the oven and turn around to face him.
“Yeah, the record company wants something new out by the end of the year.”
“How’s it going?” I walk over to the fridge.
“We’ve been able to lay down a few tracks. Nothing that’s going to go platinum though.”
I open the fridge door and spin to face him. “Do you want something to drink? We don’t have…”
Tripp waves me off. “Water’s good.”
I grab two bottles of water and place one in front of him. The sound of the sliding glass door opening causes us both to look into the living room.
Jimmy walks in with a forced smile. “Sorry, man. Adelaide called, and we were catching up.”
I tense. Jimmy’s been clear that they formed a friendship while working together and I’m secure that Jimmy and I are more solid than we’ve been in years, but the insecurities and jealousy plague me whenever he mentions her name.
He and Tripp do that handshake thing guys do when they kind of hug but not really. Then Jimmy comes around to my side, wraps one arm around my shoulder, and leans in to give me a chaste kiss on the lips.
“No worries, Lilah and I were just catching up.”
Jimmy nods. “How’s recording going?”
“Meh.” Tripp shrugs. “How’s Adelaide?”
“All right, I guess. She was telling me about a movie role she’s been offered. Wanted to run it by me and see what I thought.”
Neither Tripp nor I ask for details. I’ve been around long enough to know that loose lips sink ships in this business and nothing is final until the ink is dry on the contract.
“Lilah, did James ever tell you how he tried to set me up with Adelaide?” Tripp laughs and sips from his water bottle.
