Can't Look Away(36)

“Small world, indeed,” he replied, dropping his gaze to my bare midriff. Exhilaration prickled my skin. I couldn’t believe I was standing right in front of him—my Jake—after so many months away from him, dreaming of a moment just like this. We’d made a baby together. Not a day went by that I didn’t think of this; being near him again, it flooded me.

“Well, you ladies coming out with us or what?” Hale stood from the chair where he’d been sitting, rubbing his auburn beard. “We’re headed to Roxy’s.”

“Sisi’s only home for the weekend,” Jake inserted, well-mannered as always. “I’m sure she has to get ba—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jake. A night out on the town with Danner Lane?” I winked. “Count us in.”

Martelle whined about going out—she wanted to get home to Perry—but I dragged her along. This was an important night for me, and a girl needs her wing woman.

There wasn’t room in Danner Lane’s car, so Martelle and I took a separate cab. At Roxy’s, I scanned the crowded room for Jake, finally spotting him at the bar.

“I’ll get us drinks,” I told Martelle, who was busy texting Perry.

I wormed my way through the packs of sweaty, inebriated people and sidled up next to Jake, pressing my shoulder against his.

“Two vodka sodas!” I called to the bartender, flashing my credit card.

“Drink order hasn’t changed, I see.” One side of Jake’s mouth slid into a grin. He looked so fucking good, especially after I’d watched him kill it onstage hours earlier. In the year we’d been apart, he’d become a real live rock star with a knockout debut album, just like he’d always dreamed. I was so proud of him. I told him as much.

“I feel lucky,” he answered modestly. “Lucky to have Jerry. Lucky to have Sam and Hale. Lucky Ron took a chance on us.”

“Cheers to luck.” I gazed up at him, tilting my chin. “How about a shot to celebrate your hard-earned success?”

“I don’t know, Sisi.…” He laughed lightly, raking a hand through his hair.

“No one really calls me Sisi anymore. I go by Sabrina now.” The bartender placed my drink down on the counter, and I ordered two shots of Fireball.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Sabrina?” There was a flirtatious edge to his voice that sent my confidence skyrocketing. I waved the bartender back and ordered two more shots—tequila this time.

“Now I am, Jake.”

His lips parted slightly, his blue eyes brightening in surprise. A thin layer of sandy stubble coated his face.

“Really, what are the chances?” He studied me intently. “Of all the shows we’ve played, of all the weekends … I didn’t even know you liked the Black Keys.”

“Martelle is crazy about them,” I lied, shrugging. “I’m along for the ride.”

The bartender lined up our shots—two each—along with my receipt. A Katy Perry song blared from the speakers, thumping in my ears.

“Bottoms up.” I lifted the Fireball to my lips, waiting as Jake did the same.

After we’d knocked both of them back, I glanced around for Martelle, but she was nowhere in sight. I chugged the rest of my vodka soda and started working on hers. Jake led me to the dance floor, where Sam, Hale, and another guy—maybe their producer or one of the guys from the Black Keys—were practically gyrating to a Bruno Mars remix.

“Thanks, Danner,” Hale said when Jake handed him a beer. He plugged a nostril with his pointer finger and inhaled through the other. “You want?”

Jake shook his head, his voice blunted by the music. “I’m good.”

I was tempted to tell Hale that I wanted coke, but was hesitant to leave Jake’s side. By that point, all of the alcohol—the countless drinks I’d consumed since brunch with Martelle that morning—had worked its way into my system, and I was unquestionably drunk. Drunk and ecstatic to be with Jake, to be close enough to smell the warm, woody scent of his skin. But I needed to get closer.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him deeper into the dance floor. Neon lights rained down on us from the ceiling, the music loud and thumping.

“Where’s your friend?” he called over the noise.

“Who knows.” I clasped my hands around the back of Jake’s neck, pinning my chest against his. God, I wanted him. I’d never wanted anything so badly in my life.

I ran my fingers through his hair, relishing the feeling of our bodies being pressed together again. Joy struck through me.

“I miss you,” I said, knowing with every ounce of my heart that he missed me, too. I moved my hands down the length of his torso, stopping at his belt, grasping it lightly. I felt good; I knew I looked good. I tipped my chin forward, ready for him to lean down and kiss me in the expert way that only Jake Danner can kiss.

But then, horribly, I felt him retreat. He placed his hands on my shoulders cautiously, stepping back.

“Sisi.” His eyes grew serious, almost offended. “I’m with someone else now. I’m happy.”

My stomach plummeted, churning. I was too drunk to feel the pain, but I sensed it looming, waiting eagerly on the other side of the alcohol. The pain would obliterate me. It would kill me, I was sure.

“Jake, can we … what happened, Jake? Can we just talk?” I was nearly choking out the words; I hated myself for being unable to veil the desperation in my voice. “Just for a minute? Outside?”