Forever, Jack (33 page)

“She’s the last person on my mind, trust me. It’s you I’m worried about. And how this affects
us
.”

We hugged for a few moments. Then I pulled back to look at him seriously. He seemed about to say something else.

“I don’t want you to come to the art opening party, Jack.” I spoke in a rush, before I chickened out, before he said something to change my mind. I steeled my nerves. I was probably going to say this all wrong. “I just don’t want you there—”

He flinched.

Shit
. “And now after … this story, after Ashley even … if they see me with you, people will think the worst of me.” I wish I didn’t sound so childish and petty. So selfish and uncaring. It was so out of character for me, and I knew it.

“No they won’t. Because I’ll tell them you’re my girlfriend.”

My eyes stung with tears. “I already did. I admitted to Tom Price we were having a relationship. I probably wasn’t supposed to do that from the way he acted. I guess you didn’t confirm it for him.”

“I didn’t, I never do.” Jack shook his head. “But it doesn’t matter. Don’t let him get to you.”

“You may be used to this circus,” I swiped at my eyes, thinking about Tom Price’s words and how they cut right to my fear of being just Jack’s girlfriend, “and ignoring what people say about you, but I’m not. You said you would try and keep me out of the madness. How does showing up to an event with me fit into that? I’m so nervous about the event anyway. There are people from SCAD coming, and maybe some press. I don’t want to be worrying about what people are thinking.” Then the more sordid aspect made me shudder. “And if I’m supposedly your girlfriend, what will people think you were doing with Ashley? Especially if Audrey’s story hits.” I thought of England. “Especially with your reputation. I’ll just be the next one in a long line.”

“My reputation?” Jack swallowed. “Yeah, I guess I deserved that. But you know, Keri Ann, there’s always going to be an Ashley. Someone saying they know me, or did something with me or whatever. Please. Please be strong enough to choose
us
over this.”

He was right. “I want to Jack, I’m going to try to be strong enough to deal with that. But as it stands you’re asking me to give up my own identity, one that I’m only just discovering. My mother did it for my father, and excuse the cliché, but she lived a life of quiet desperation. That’s what Joey sees for me with you, and I understand now. That’s what you’re asking of me. To never be recognized as my own person, always to be talked about in reference to you.”

He grabbed my shoulders. “Even if people talk, it won’t last forever. At least not with the same intensity. I know I promised to keep us secret, but I’m no longer in control, thanks to Audrey.”

Panic washed over me.

“It’s going to be impossible actually. I wish—”

“What?” I hiccupped a sob. “So you just want to go on business as usual and stick me in the slot of Jack Eversea’s latest romantic interlude? Since your next movie is filming here, how convenient you have a local girl all lined up to take care of your lonely nights. And bonus, she gets to cash in on your fame to get some publicity.” I breathed out roughly, already regretting my words and the bitterness in my voice. The way I’d just reduced the amazing thing we had between us to a cheap and shallow anecdote. I didn’t need a tabloid to do it, I’d just done it myself.

Jack’s eyes were dark.

“God, I’m sorry,” I said, and wiped my eyes. “I’m so sorry. You know that’s not how I feel about us.”

“I don’t think I really do know. I know that you’re scared.” He shoved a hand bleakly through his hair. “I wish you weren’t afraid to be with me.” His eyes settled on mine, and he looked so sad. “People use me all the time. They use my name and my status for everything. Being seen with me, wanting me to use or wear their product, their clothes, talk about it, wanting me at a party to raise their profile.” He sneered, his mouth twisting. “Over and over again.

“But for
once
.” He kicked at the ground. “For fucking once, I want to do that for good, for something
I
choose, beyond the bullshit. Even beyond the charity stuff I do and money I give away to this and that, even the freaking sea turtles.”

“You give money to the sea turtles?” I interjected. The first orange sun rays glinted off his glossy brown hair.

“Since I met you, yes,” he said dismissively then looked at me intently. “I want to be able to use who I am to help
you
. I want to help you pay for SCAD, I want to save your house for you.”

God
. Mortification burned me from the inside out. He must have heard the whole conversation I had with Joey.

“And I know you won’t let me,” he went on before I could react. “You have too much pride, you’d think I felt sorry for you or something. I don’t. Not even fucking close. Yes, I want to go to your party,” he said fiercely. “If you don’t want to use my name then I want to go and be there for you, as your boyfriend, not as Jack Eversea. I know this is the biggest thing you’ve ever done. And I’m so proud of you even though I have no right to be.”

“But you can’t be there as my boyfriend and not as Jack Eversea,” I said quietly, my eyes casting down to his chest. “They’re the same thing as far as everyone is concerned.”

“You’re right, and what’s wrong with that if it means more people show up and more people pay attention to how damn talented you are? And no, since we’re being honest,” he ground out, “I don’t
want
to keep us a secret.” He jabbed his chest, hard. “I’m just a guy in here. A mostly insecure, when it comes to you, depressing idiot, who has created this life of grand illusion. But it
is
my life. Without it, I wouldn’t have you, but with it, I can’t really be with you?” he asked. “It makes no fucking sense. I want you to see it all for the sham it is and look through it to
me
… I want your brother’s approval only because I realize I’ll never fully have you without it. I also want
you
to not give a shit who’s watching. I want you to be proud of being with me and not care about what people might say about us.” He pointed to his chest again. “Because
I
don’t care what people say about us.”

My eyes stung sharply before filling again and blurring my vision. All my joy and happiness at being with Jack—and fears enough to cancel the good stuff out—swirled blindingly together.

“I don’t think I’m ready,” I said in a small voice.

“What are you saying?”

“I need, I need time. I wish I could pause
us
.” I cringed as Jack stumbled backward. “Please, Jack. Please try and understand. It’s going to be hard enough for me to take this professional step without worrying about whether people are there for me or for you.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I, I need to do this by myself. If it goes well, I need to know it went well because of me and only me. And if it doesn’t, then it doesn’t.”

“It will, regardless,” he said, with exasperation. “But you’re punishing me for something I can’t control!”

Silence, brittle with tension, arced between us.

Then Jack’s hands were on my face, his thumbs sliding under my eyes as I closed them, and a huge wave of emotion shuddered through my chest in a sob. “I’m sorry.”

I’m an ugly cry-er, and that alone should have stopped me, but it didn’t. I cried and cried, my shoulders heaving, until Jack had me pressed against his hard chest, his hand in my hair cradling me. Soothing me. Whispering to me like a child. Even though I should be the one soothing, even though I was the one punishing him for something he couldn’t change. I hated being so pathetic, it wasn’t me. It had never been me. And that made me cry harder.

I wanted to run. I wanted to run back to the past before I put myself out there and before I’d met Jack. I wanted to go back to the bland waiting period of a life un-begun. Back when dreams were just concepts and not the sinuous, glittering sirens they were now, taunting me to take a leap off the edge for them, to risk dashing myself on the rocks if I did something as stupid as try and grab on to them too tightly. I couldn’t imagine how their smooth promises wouldn’t slip through my fingers.

“God, please stop crying, Keri Ann, you’re killing me.”

I pulled out of Jack’s arms, swiping my cheeks and nose with the back of my hand.

Nice
.

God, my relationship with Jack had fully deployed every terrifying emotion I was capable of, and in the process I’d hurt him. I’d hurt the person I loved with my whole heart.

“You are so beautiful, so talented, so honest. And you are strong. Let me be part of your life, and be brave enough to be part of mine. I know you can be, I’ve seen your strength. Please believe in us.” His voice broke.

I stood, mute, letting his words pour over and through me.

He sighed deeply, agony and frustration reflecting in his eyes. “I’ll stay away if that’s what you want. But know I’m only doing it because you’re asking. We’re going to have to figure this out. Unless I give up what I do and who I am, this is
always
going to come between us. I know I told you I could keep you out of it, or try, but I’ve realized I really can’t. You need to choose
us
anyway, Keri Ann.”

Jack giving up who he was? Never. Imagining him without his passion was like me deciding never to create anything ever again. It wasn’t going to happen. But Jack being Jack meant having to put up with the Audrey’s, the Ashley’s, and tabloids, the Tom Price’s waiting in the wings to pick up a whiff of scandal.

It probably also meant him leaving for filming projects for months at a time. And if I went with him, what did that mean for my life? What kind of life would I be living if I could just jet off to be with him? Not a conscientious student, that was for sure. And one day, if he was done with me? Then what? Who would I be then?

Who was I without Jack? I needed to be sure now, and I needed to set the boundary now, otherwise I’d always be swallowed up by the tidal wave of who he was, and his life. I’d always only be an extension of him.

…
And cease to exist
…

The reporter’s words, and Joey’s story about Mom, shuddered through me.

All the reasons I’d rejected Jack when he stood in my kitchen were still valid and so very, very real. Yet somehow, I’d suspended them, and let Jack in, and fallen more deeply for him than ever. Now I was hurting us both.

“And Keri Ann?” He slid a hand behind my neck, tilting my face so he could land a kiss on my forehead. “However well you do, it’s always going to be because you earned it, and you deserve it, no matter who shows up to the party. You have the talent, you just need to believe it.”

I stood in Jack’s arms, the cool early morning breeze ruffling through our hair, letting his strength and his certainty flow into me and trying desperately to believe it.

Then he let go. “Just …” Exhaling deeply, his jaw tensed tightly, the muscle twitched over and over. His expression was tortured. “Just … try and remember,” he swallowed and grabbed my hand, pressing it against his chest. “Whatever anyone sees on the outside … this is yours in here. Please, God, don’t throw it away.”

The morning of my art opening dawned beautiful and sunny. A complete contrast to my mood. I was worried about the evening ahead of me and weighed down by the thought of how I’d left things with Jack.

He’d left me standing on the dock. I’d watched him walk away and climb into the closed Jeep and done nothing to stop him.

Over breakfast, Joey and I scoured the Internet to see if there was any story out there, but there was nothing. I felt like my head was on a guillotine.

“I checked, too,” Jazz said when she arrived to pick me up for our trip into Savannah. “There was nothing.”

We were spending the day at the spa where Colt’s friend Karina had set up my appointments. I had begged and pleaded over the phone to bring Jazz, and they’d finally said she could come and they’d try to fit her in for either hair or makeup. I was reluctant to go at all, but Jazz speared me with a sharp look. I could see she wanted to say something like I might be photographed, so I needed to look my best. But in the end she settled with, “It would be a shame to ruin Mrs. Weaton’s fabulous dress with mediocre waitress hair.”

I thumped her on the arm, and Joey laughed at us as we made plans to meet back at the house. The Westin was sending one of their vans to pick us up. Colt and his date, Karina were going to meet us there.

The day passed in a blur. I was primped and prepped. My hands, my feet, my hair, my makeup. I did agree with Jazz, after hearing about my dress they did an awesome job with my hair. It was waved and swept down over one ear then tied in a beautiful swirl, low on the side of my head. They used a tiny silver band that peaked out across my forehead before it hid back in the smooth, silky do. I felt like an old-timey Hollywood starlet, and I actually felt good. I didn’t enjoy the amount of spray they had to use to keep it from coming loose, however. The make-up was flawlessly done. With deep kohl swept eyes, I hardly recognized myself.

“Wow,” said Jazz when my chair was turned around.

“Wow, yourself,” I said. They’d curled large cascading waves into Jazz’s long blonde hair and tied half of it up with a loose and elegant braid. She would be wearing a red floaty dress that was sure to hit my brother like a blow to the head.