Jaymes

I walk into the kitchen and my mom’s mouth falls open. Holding my finger up, I think I catch her in time. “Don’t say a word.” Her mouth closes and swerves into a smile, so I call her out, “I can see right through you.”

“And yet, you still came.”

Shrugging, I reapply my gloss. “Call me curious.”

“Curious.”

Ace skips through the kitchen and out the other door. I don’t think I’ve ever welcomed an interruption so much. “We should go or we’ll be late. You know how bad traffic gets with the Sunday brunch crowd.”

“Californians brunch like it’s their business.” She grabs her purse just as Ace runs by. “Go potty and we’re leaving.”

In the car, my mom tells me how she picked a small restaurant that was out of the way to avoid paparazzi. That is something I never thought would be a concern, but here we are at a quaint café.

“I’ll pay for valet, Jamie.”

“No, don’t waste your money. I’ll drop you guys off and park down the street. It’s fine.” I pull to the curb and they get out. I can’t stop from doing a quick scan for any sign of Derrick or Diane. The place looks fancy though. As soon as I find a spot two blocks down and around the corner, I apply my gloss one more time. I think it’s a nervous tic I’m developing because of a certain hot ex-boyfriend. I grab my bag and head back to the restaurant. I start to get nervous as I approach the little café, tugging at the hem of my shirt. My flats are scuffed at the toe and my jeans are old, but they fit. I drag a large section of my hair around to the front of my shoulder and play with the ends nervously. I reach the door just as it opens. Derrick is there and smiles. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He holds his phone up and says, “I’ve got to take this. I’ll be right back.”

The door is open wide so I move around him, but my arm brushes against his middle. I just keep walking hoping he didn’t mind the bonus of my bony elbow to his abs. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. They’re out back.” The phone is to his ear and he walks outside and down the sidewalk.

I survived. In the courtyard out back, I sit in one of the two open seats that are conveniently together at one end of the table. The moms dote on Ace as he scribbles on the kids’ menu. Diane looks my way and says, “You always had such pretty hair, Jamie.”

Looking down, I grab at it again. “It’s a mess,” I lie. I spent over an hour styling it and putting it up only to let it come down at the last minute.

I’m alerted to his presence just from his proximity, the heat of his body warming my whole soul. “It always looked lovely any way she wore it, but particularly down and loose around her shoulders.”

Lovely. He just said my hair is lovely. I look up as he sits down next to me and my cheeks actually heat. “Thank you . . . Diane.” I turn my attention to her, but she’s pretending to be engrossed in Ace’s art. When I look into the eyes that once only shined for me, I reply, “Thank you. That is very sweet of you to say.”

“I struggled picking my favorite way you wear your hair. You had it up on your head in a rubber band the other day and that looked good too.”

Resting my chin on my hand, I lean in. “Was this a difficult struggle, thinking about how I wear it? One that kept you up nights or just a passing fancy?”

“Up all night thinking about you.”

Our eyes lock, and I’m unaware of the magic that must be happening to have me here. I’m surely in fantasyland in my best blouse sitting next to a world-famous musician who’s insisting on complimenting me as if I can live up to the celebrities he’s used to dating. I sit up and take my napkin, the perfect distraction, and place it across my lap. “What are you doing, Derrick?”

“I’m drinking coffee and making small talk.”

“Your small talk feels awfully large in the scheme of things.”

“I don’t need to lie to you and I don’t want to hide behind some charade like we’re supposed to be on a blind date or something. That’s not us.” He stops and says, “Look at me, Jaymes.” When I do, he lowers his voice and whispers, “I would really like to spend some time with you alone and catch up, instead of brunch under the watchful eye of our moms.”

The moms are up and scooping Ace from his seat. The crayons roll off the table and flustered, Diane says, “We forgot our . . . our . . . um—”

“Bicycles,” my mom shouts.

Diane nods. “Yes, our um bicycles?” Turning to Nita, she asks, “Right?”

Ace looks between them. “What are umbicycles? Can I have one?”

“Yes, let’s go get you one. You two stay and talk. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Derrick and I watch them weave through the tables like they’ve actually got somewhere better to go. When I turn to the man who once owned my heart, I sigh. “That was subtle.”

“Not at all.”

“Nope. Not at all.”

Picking up where he left off, he says, “I don’t even know if you want to talk to me, but I would love a second chance.”

“Dating?” I ask, stunned.

“No, talking. Well, um . . . what?”

He takes a large gulp of water and I cut him some slack. “Sorry. I don’t know why my mind went there. You meant a chance to talk. We can do that. We’re here. Apparently alone. What do you want to talk about?”

“Should we start with Ace?”

Tension fills my shoulders as my defenses go up. I twist the napkin in my lap and look down at the splintering wood of the table. “Sure.” I hate how meek I sound, but when it comes to my son, I shouldn’t have to explain anything to anyone.

“He’s great, Jaymes.”

Surprised, I look back up. “What?”

“He’s a great kid. I haven’t been around either of you much, but I can tell what a great mom you are just by the little time I’ve spent with him.”

My smile grows. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

Taking my hand, another surprise on his part, he says, “I’m not going to pretend I know what’s gone on in your life, but I’d like to know. Even more so, I’d like to know what’s happening in your life now.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I want to know if anyone’s going to be upset about you having brunch with me.”

Reggie. My heart quickens like any other time I think of him. Fear does that to you. I’m not sure it will ever change. Not until I know Ace and I are safe from him forever. I pull my hand back slowly despite how much I like Derrick holding it. “I can’t answer that. I’m sorry.” This time I don’t look away.

His disappointment is seen and he lowers his hands to his lap. “That seems like an odd question to dodge.”

“I’m not dodging. I just can’t give you the answer you want to hear.”

“So you’re seeing someone?” He’s annoyingly handsome even when his brow furrows.

Despite his good looks, I have to look deeper because of the complicated situation I’m in. “Please, Derrick. Let’s not do this. It’s too—”

“Too what? Soon? Invasive? Close for comfort? Backstabbing?”

“Backstabbing? What? No. Me?”

“Yeah.” He moves away from me by leaning back in his chair. His gaze casts down and his arms cross over his chest. He looks genuinely hurt.

By me? “You left, not me.”

“Why didn’t you, Jaymes? Tell me. You’ve got to tell me why you chose Reggie over me.”

I’m standing, my bag in hand before he even finishes that question. Staring at him, I search his face for the guy I once knew. Instead I’m met with a man I don’t recognize. I swing my bag over my shoulder and leave. Searching the inside for the moms and Ace, I don’t find them, so I push through the door and walk out to the sidewalk. I look both directions with no luck.

I reach for my phone in my bag when Derrick comes barreling out of the café. “No. You don’t get to walk away like that.”

“You can’t stop me like I’m one of your roadies.”

His head goes back. “What are you talking about? First off, I don’t control the roadies. They’re there to do a job. Secondly, why are you talking to me like you don’t know me?”

“Because I don’t. I don’t know you anymore. As much as I thought I should come today, I see I made a big mistake.”

“Why?”

The moms and Ace come around the corner, but as soon as they see us they scurry back, disappearing again. Turning my attention back to Derrick, I take a breath. “Look,” I start, then readjust the bag on my shoulder. Ace’s books are starting to weigh me down. Or maybe it’s my emotions. Either way, I’m ready to go. “This was a fun little attempt by our moms. I don’t know why they thought this was a good idea, but it clearly wasn’t. I’m in no position to offer you anything more than friendship—”

“I’ll take it.”

“I was going to say we used to be friends but now we’re better off acquaintances. You don’t want that.”

“I want anything I can get with you.”

Without realizing it, our voices have gone from strong-willed to barely above a whisper, our proximity closer, almost touching. “It’s not just me not knowing you anymore. You don’t know me either.” Looking down the street, I say, “So much has changed. I’ve changed. I’m not the same girl you once knew.”

He takes my hand in his, his fingers lightly manipulating mine as if I were strings on his guitar. My chin is touched, so delicately, but with enough pressure to turn me his way. Our eyes meet, and he whispers, “Then let me get to know the woman you are now.”

“Why are you so insistent on this? You’re as bad as the moms.”

“If I tell you that you’re more beautiful now than ever would it kill any chance we have of reconnecting? Or that when I look at you, my heart hurts just enough to remind me I’m still alive? What about that when I play certain songs I still think of you? What if I told you those things, opening myself up in a way that I never do? Will you walk away or will you stay?”

There’s no logical reason for me to stay. Ace. Reggie. My job. School. My life. I can’t fit another thing in without sacrificing more of myself, but here he is more open than he ever was when we were together. His heart is open and his words are an elixir, tasting sweeter the second time. I’m in dangerous territory that could cost me more than my heart. It could cost me Ace. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

I walk away. Inside, I am running. I can’t lose Ace. I won’t lose the most precious gift I have.

I hate myself for doing it, for hurting Derrick, but it’s not just him I worry about anymore. Despite my desperate need to look back, to go back, to run into his arms and find the comfort I once felt in his arms, I can’t. I can’t think about anything but protecting my son. Just keep walking. Don’t look back. Just go.

“Wait.”

Pulling my emotions under control, I gnaw on my bottom lip before turning around. My heart is pounding. I know I should have listened to myself seconds earlier. When I see him running toward me, my better senses fall away and I force my arms to stay at my sides instead of opening wide.

He says, “I forgot something.”

“What?”

“You.”

I’m about to ask what he means, but then I don’t have to because his hands are on me, holding my face, and angling me up as he bends down. My heart pounds against my chest and this time I don’t have the strength to deny him.

Or me.