Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 104498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“Hmm, decent idea, but I think I have a better one. We do.”
“But we could not.”
“Jay … you know what will happen if we don’t. We’ll be sued, your career will be over, and all that money you’ve earned these last few years? Bam, tied up in lawyer bullshit.”
“I don’t want to leave Fiji. I don’t want to leave …” I almost say Soren.
He makes me forget. He distracts me. Takes care of me. Doesn’t take my attitude.
“Don’t want to leave what? Or is it a who?” Luce asks.
The sound of someone coming up the steps of the hut has me lighting up. I already know it’s him without looking.
I turn, and he’s standing there, all tall and Soren-like. Soft features and strong body. Stubble because he hasn’t shaved since we got here.
“Hey,” he says through the screen door. “I’ll leave you to business, but I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
See—he takes care of me. Actually cares if I’m upset.
I try to hide the stress Luce showing up has caused. “I’m fine. Thank you. We, uh, you and I … we’ll have to talk and stuff—”
Soren puts up his hand. “It’s all good. Take your time.”
“I …” I glance at Luce and then back at Soren, and that must tip Luce off because he moves in behind me and whistles.
“Whoa. Yeah, I can see why you don’t want to leave.”
I elbow Luce in the gut. “Ignore Luce. He drinks.”
Both Luce and Soren laugh. They know I’m lying.
“I’ll swing by your hut in a bit.”
Soren nods and leaves.
“Damn, his ass is even better than his face,” Luce says, and I elbow him again, while I hear Soren chuckle on his way next door. “Quit it.” Luce rubs his stomach.
“You have a man. Leave that one alone.”
“Can I point out you’ve been mocking me for my age? That dude can’t be far off …”
“He’s still younger than you, gramps.” Even if it’s only by one year. I don’t say that though.
“Who is he?” Luce asks.
“Who is he? Who do you think he is?”
Luce’s eyes widen. “He’s ‘Someone Else’s Perfect’ and ‘Hat Trick Heartbreak’?”
“Yup.”
“I’m screwed here. There’s no way you’re gonna come back on tour with that kind of baggage hanging around.”
“That kind of baggage is nothing. We’re just having fun. It’s not serious.” And maybe if I keep saying it out loud, the twenty-year-old romantic inside me will quit telling me it could be so much more.
“You wrote two songs about the guy. Two highly emotional songs. You haven’t written any about Harley.”
“That you know of.”
“Have you?”
“Well, no, but not for lack of inspiration. More like because I know the label will never go for ‘Romeo and Julien, locked in a cage. Ripped apart by fucking labels, watching me drown on stage.’”
“Okay, yeah, they’ll never go for that.”
“Exactly.”
We both stare at each other with the same question in our eyes. How am I going to handle seeing Harley again?
“Do you want to hire a bodyguard to babysit you so you don’t fall into Harley’s trap and keep letting him back into your bed?”
“I’m not that weak.” But even my protest sounds weak. I’d like to think now that everything has changed—Harley getting married, me and Soren … being me and Soren—that I wouldn’t fall into old patterns, but I know from experience how easy it is to fall when it comes to Harley.
“Jay …”
“Luce,” I mimic.
“All I’m saying is if the asshole is forcing you to go back, the least you can do is make sure he doesn’t get to use you anymore.”
“I know that’s what it looks like to you, but Harley and me … we’re not like that. What we had was real.”
“Yeah, really toxic. You couldn’t be together, but you still wouldn’t leave each other alone. You both need to move on.”
“That’s why I’m here. I want to move on, but how can I when he keeps dragging me back in?”
I can’t believe this is happening.
I’m going back.
I have to face Harley again.
Chapter Seventeen
Soren
Jet’s leaving already.
Just when I thought this vacation had turned around, it’s cut short by the only light in it walking away.
I know he has to. It’s his job.
If a hockey player is traded, we have no choice in moving or not. It’s in our contracts, and work always comes first.
I stare at the ceiling of my cabin, my hands under my head, and try not to think about it. Which means I only think about it more.
He’ll go back on tour where he’ll see Harley every day. He’ll be near him, with him … most likely, he’ll go back to him because I know he’s not over him.
After a few days together, I have no right to Jet, but I was hoping we’d get more time to figure this out.
Bryce said I wasn’t in our relationship—not completely—and I think it’s because I’ve always had a what-if floating around my head.