Page 66 of The Sound Of Forever

When I hang up, I have a message from an unknown number, but with only twenty minutes before Jesse’s arrival, I ignore it and rush to get ready. Trying hard not to care about how I look but also knowing that I do care. A lot. Basically, I’m trying to convince myself more than Sara.

Jesse texts as I’m putting on a coat of mascara, and when I read his message, telling me he’s in the lobby, I see the one from before, and it’s the same number that texted a little while back.

Unknown:You’re not home. You’re always home.

What the hell?I thought it was a mistake the first time, but was it Tate? I never gave him my number. I mean, it’s not hard to find—it’s on our store website—but still, if it’s him it feels like an invasion of privacy.

I text Jesse to say I’m coming and ignore what I now assume is Tate’s text. For all I know it could still just be a wrong number. And while I’m here and he’s in Oregon, there’s nothing I can do anyway.

But why is he looking for me?

And why is my skin crawling?

***

Jesse smiles when I step out of the elevator, but I can tell that it’s forced. Doing this as “friends” isn’t easy on him. But it’s hard on me too. Especially when he’s looking like God’s gift to women as he leans against a pillar wearing a navy blazer over a fitted tee and his hair mussed just enough to make you want to run your fingers through it. Maybe pull on the strands a little or…Dammit!

His smile turns to a smirk, and I know he’s busted me ogling him. But I challenge anyone not to stare at him like he’s a piece of meat, because he’s freaking mouthwatering.

“Thank you for picking me up,” I say with a polite smile.

He nods and gestures to the glass doors ahead of us. “Thank you for checking me out,” he whispers as I walk past.Again, dammit.Ignoring him, I pick up the pace, walking toward the rental he pointed out, my head held high. What was I thinking with this?It’s going to be a long lunch.

Jesse puts some music on when we’re seated, so we spend the drive mostly in peace. But when “The Sound of Silence” by Simon and Garfunkel comes on, Jesse starts singing to himself and I almost gape.Jesse sings?I mean it’s not amazing, but I never imagined his broody ass would actually enjoy music.

“I love this song,” I say when he stops singing at a light. Apparently, he can only sing when we’re moving.

“Me too, although I prefer the Disturbed version.”

I do too, but I keep that quiet. “What about the Anna Kendrick one? That seems more like your style,” I joke, but it falls flat when he has no idea what I’m talking about.

“Who?”

“Poppy fromTrolls.”

“Again, who?”

Where’s Sara when you need her? She would have laughed.

“Never mind. Where are we going?”

“A restaurant closer to the touristy part of town. I thought you might want to see the Walk of Fame.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, while my traitorous heart skips a beat.

“Thank you,” I say, giving nothing else away. So what if I was just thinking the exact same thing. It doesn’t mean he knows me. It just means he’s being thoughtful. Like he would with anyone new to town.

Jessedoesn’t dothoughtfulforanyone. Except me.

Pushing my inner musings from my mind, I smile politely as we pull into a parking space. Jesse laughs to himself, and I’m sure it’s because he can see right through my fake attempt at being fine. He always can.

When we reach the door to the restaurant, he darts around me to hold it open, eliciting a feeling of déjà vu. Last time he held a door open for me, our roles were reversed. He was the one trying to pretend, and now it’s me. Because as much as I tell myself I’m okay, just being in Jesse’s presence proves that I’m wrong.

My chest tightens again as I plaster on a tight smile, trying hard not to give the game away. It’s just lunch. I can do this. And if I don’t remember anything else, then at least we tried.But if I do?I’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jesse

Willowtriestomakesmall talk for the first half of our meal.

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