Fairfield knows Vince’s father, Deegan Jennings, as the man who mostly keeps to himself. The one who sits in his vintage Bronco on the street outside the football stadium to watch the high school games from afar wishing his son were on the field instead of playing with his secondhand guitar. The man who wants a homecoming king for a son instead of an outcast who doesn’t care if he fits in. The one who frequents the liquor store a little too regularly but always has a subtle nod or quiet smile to anyone who says hi.
But I know him as the man Vince hates. I know him as the man with sharp criticism and demeaning quips in the background during our phone conversations. I know him as the man responsible for the marks on Vince’s face even though he’s never confirmed it.
“I just can’t, okay?” He swallows, his voice thick from the tears brimming in his eyes that he blinks away. “I should have done it the day I graduated, got the hell out of here . . . but . . .”
“But you stayed because of me.”
He put up with whatever hell he won’t talk about because of me. My heart breaks a little more.
He nods. “You’re the only good thing I have here, Bristol.”
“But it isn’t enough.” My voice is barely audible.
“No. That’s not it.” He holds my chin up and stares into my eyes as his first tear slips down his cheek. This boy . . . this man that I love, seems so broken, and I don’t know how to fix him. How to help him. “You’re more than enough. You’re everything, but if I stay, I don’t think I’ll ever take the chance at becoming what he thinks I can’t be, and I know I can be.”
“Yes, you will. I know you will. You’re—”
“Shh.” He presses a finger to my lips and shakes his head. “And if I stay, you won’t take those chances you need to take. You’ll hold yourself back because of me. You’ll pick a college where you think there’s a music scene for me instead of one that’s best for you.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“I know you better than that. You’re selfless like that, and I can’t do that to you. I can’t hold you back from being the person we both know you can be.”
“You’re just saying this to make it easier to leave. You’re just—”
“You’re right. I am.” He swallows roughly. “I have to believe it.” His hands are on my cheeks. His forehead is resting against mine again. “It’s the only way I can do this. It’s for the best.”
Salt is on my lips. My own tears falling hard and fast while my brain tries to process Vince’s decision.
That he really is leaving.
That he’s walking away without a fight.
We had plans. Tomorrows and forevers. A future.
I love him.
I can see those same thoughts reflected in his eyes. The same pain. The same hurt. The same regret.
I can’t make him suffer more because of his loyalty to me. I can’t force him to endure whatever hell happens in his house simply because I need him.
He needs so much more. He deserves so much better.
I press the most tender of kisses to his lips. Goodbye, Vince. Somewhere deep down, I find the strength to give him what he needs while it slowly kills me.
“I understand,” I whisper and choke on the next words. “It’s for the best.”
His eyes hold mine before he nods and moves back toward the window.
Another kiss.
A squeeze of our linked fingers.
A shuddered breath of acceptance even though I don’t want to accept anything.
He climbs out the window.
Fight the tears.
He turns to face me.
Don’t let your voice break.
“I’ll call you,” he says, but I know he won’t.
If there’s one thing I know about my boyfriend, it’s that he’s all or nothing. And his all is ahead of him, and I’m the nothing that must remain behind. I’m the nothing that might pull him back when he can’t even chance looking back.
“Don’t call,” I say.
His eyes flash to mine. Hurt flares in them followed shortly by acceptance.
This is it.
A clean break.
The chance to walk away while I’m holding the broken pieces of myself together . . . so he doesn’t have to see them fall apart.
He stares at me long and hard for a moment. The darkness masking so much, and I’m not sure if I’m grateful that it does or if I’d prefer to see it.
“Goodbye, Shug.”
“Goodbye, Vince.”
“Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”
“Maybe.”
I struggle for composure. My hands fisting. My teeth digging into my bottom lip. My jaw is clenched tightly.
I watch his shadow disappear into the night . . . “Vince, wait!” But he keeps walking right out of my life.
“I miss you already,” I whisper.
I don’t even make it to my bed before I fall apart. The tears come fast, hard, and uncontrollably.
He’s gone.
My strength dissolves into despair. My resolve shatters into heartbreak.
I’d wait for him. He knows it. I know it. But I also can’t spend my life waiting for him either.
Hope is enough to sustain someone and break them simultaneously.
I’d hold it tight if I thought it would help.
But for some reason I think it’s already lost.
He deserves so much more than being his father’s punching bag.
“Make all your dreams come true, Vince. I know someday your star will shine.”
CHAPTER ONE
Bristol
I should have stayed in bed.
If the smoke alarm chirping at three in the morning (because isn’t that always when the batteries die), the coffee pot breaking, and Jagger throwing up all over my clothes minutes before I headed out the door weren’t a warning sign I should have heeded, then I don’t know what was.
And now as Simone looks at me with raised eyebrows, expectant eyes, and yet another imposing request, I know being nestled in my warm, soft bed would have been so much better than what I’m about to agree to do.
“Don’t give me that look,” she says. “I’d do the same for you, if you asked.”
“The difference is that I don’t ask. Ever.”
Her sigh and the shift of her feet are all the proof I need. She knows I’m right. That this is most definitely a one-way relationship—unless you consider the laughter she pulls from me on the daily. If we compared that, then she’s the reason I stay sane most days.
And the same reason I glare at her but nod my head. “He better be a damn good lay if you’re making me cover for you.”
“Really?” Simone clasps her hands and dances a jig, her spiral curls bouncing and her smile reaching megawatt levels. All for covering her shift tonight so she can be with her current flavor of the month—and they do change monthly—who happens to be in town for the night. But who am I to deny someone in love with the notion of being in love and the addictive giddiness that comes with it?
“Really,” I say drolly, already hating that I can’t say no to her.
“Oh my God. You’re the best. Maybe this will put you front and center with Xavier so he sees what a godsend you are and finally treats you what you’re worth.”
Xavier McMann. Schmoozer to the stars. Hard-ass galore. Our boss. How he led McMann Media Management to be one of the top media and public relations firms in Los Angeles is beyond me. With his grueling schedule, his unyielding demands, and his snap-of-the-fingers-you-better-jump communication skills, he only seems to notice you if you screw up.
And yet we both work here because he’s the best of the best. His stamp of approval is the golden ticket to a successful career in the industry. The connections you make working for him guarantee it. If dealing with him and his demands is what I need to do to learn the ropes and get my foot in the door I feel like I’ve been pushing on for what feels like forever, then so be it.
One day I plan to be him.
My own publicity or talent management firm. My own employees. My own reputation.
I just got a little later start on everything than planned . . .
The roll of my eyes in response says it all.
“Nothing will ever make Xavier see me.” No matter how hard I work, he’ll never notice me. “We’re never in the same place either.” In the rare instances that we are, my most important job is relegated to grabbing coffee. Apparently, my immediate boss wants the more important tasks to try and make a lasting impression with the top one.
“He’s going to be there today.”
“No, he’s not. He’s—”
“Here. In Los Angeles. He came back from Napa early because this thing came up, and he wanted to be here for it. So you know it’s a big deal if he cut his trip short.”