Forever, Jack Page 52

“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.”

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