Chapter Nineteen
Jack
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T HE BAR IS PACKED TONIGHT . Feels like it always is these days, especially on Fridays. I walk up to the mic with my guitar slung across my chest, grinning as the crowd claps and hoots like they’re genuinely excited to see me again. A few familiar faces wave, and I wave back, tipping my hat for good measure. It’s loud, sweaty, and chaotic—but in that beautiful, addictive way live music always is.
I strum a few chords to warm up. People are already cheering. Some woman yells, “Jumping Jack!” and the nickname catches fire again. A chorus of laughs follows. I chuckle along, but it still feels weird—like a costume I didn’t mean to put on. They like the way I bounce a little on stage when I’m really into a song. It wasn’t intentional. But now people expect it. So, I give them a little hop with a wink and they go nuts.
Whatever works, I guess.
I wouldn’t have picked it for myself, but who gets to pick their own nickname?
The set kicks off smoothly. I’m hitting the notes just right, my fingers moving like they’ve got minds of their own. I’m completely in the zone—until I notice her.
Blonde. Red lips. Tight dress that looks expensive without trying too hard. She’s sitting near the front, one leg crossed over the other, watching me with this cool, confident gaze that’s different from the usual excitement or flirty chaos I’m used to. There’s something sharp in her eyes. Calculated. Like she’s measuring me up. She has the look of a woman who’s trying to decide what cut of beef she wants.
But she’s just a face in the crowd. Doesn’t matter.
I keep playing, pouring my heart into the music. I finish the song Jinnie helped me fix and the room lights up with applause.
“You guys are wild tonight!” I shout into the mic.
I’m a little out of breath.
The crowd yells in response.
“Did you guys like that?” I ask with a flirty smile.
Yes, I’m absolutely flirting. I’ve figured out this little game. I know how to make the tip jar get fat with dollar bills.
“If you guys like that, I think I got another little something,” I tease. “It’ll make your toes curl.”
The crowd cheers. I tease with a little play on the strings, letting the anticipation build. I can feel their energy buzzing in the air, electric and alive. It’s impossible not to feed off it. My fingers move faster, my heartbeat keeping time with the rhythm as I launch into the next song. I’ve got them on their feet.
I bounce a little on stage—because they expect it now—and flash a grin at the front row. My eyes catch hers again. Blonde. Red lips. She’s watching me. Studying me. I don’t let myself linger on her for too long, but I do give her a playful wink as I sing the next lyric.
The crowd erupts into cheers, and I can’t help but laugh. A few women near the stage laugh, one of them shouting something I don’t quite catch but pretend to anyway. “Oh, you think so?” I tease, leaning forward like I’m sharing a secret with her. “Well, let’s see if this next one changes your mind.”
I shift into another song, slower this time but with a deep groove that makes people sway. My voice softens just enough to draw them in, and I let my eyes wander across the room as I sing. I want them to think I’m singing to them.
I play it up until my throat is dry. “Give me ten minutes, guys!”
I head to the bar to grab some water and breathe for a minute. That’s when the flurry starts. Normally, people leave me alone or someone will offer to buy me a drink.
This is different.
Three girls swarm me first, practically blocking off my escape route. They’re nice enough—drunk and giggly, complimenting my voice, my hair, my “stage presence,” whatever that means. I nod and thank them, but I don’t engage. Not really. I’ve learned the difference between polite and leading someone on. I’m not about to make that mistake.
Then the blonde approaches. The one with the bright red lips and eyes like she’s taking my measurements. She stands just outside the circle of groupies, giving off that vibe like she’s too good for all this, but still part of it. She leans in just enough for me to catch her scent. It’s thick and heavy and not anything I like. “You’ve got real talent. You ever think about taking this on the road?”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
She shrugs her shoulder, sipping her drink. “You’ve got the voice, the look, the moves. Jumping Jack could be a thing.”
“I’m not a thing,” I say, trying to keep it light.
“Oh, I think you could be.” She tilts her head, eyes scanning me with slow interest. “If you ever want someone to help make that happen, I’m good at spotting potential.”
It’s flattering. And suspicious. And I still don’t quite know what she’s getting at.
“Appreciate that,” I say.
“You know, most guys in your position would jump at the chance to have someone like me in their corner. All you’d have to do is let me take you out of this place.”
I chuckle, trying to keep it light, but there’s something about her tone that sets me on edge. “That’s a hell of an offer,” I say, taking a sip of water. “But I’m not exactly looking to be taken anywhere.”
She tilts her head, a sly smile playing on her lips. “You sure about that?” Her hand brushes against my arm as she leans in even closer. “I’ve been known to take young men just like you and make them very, very happy.”
I’m young, but not stupid. I know innuendo when I hear it.
“Well, I guess this answers that question,” Jinnie says from behind me.
My heart drops.
I turn, and there she is, looking stunning and absolutely furious. She’s dressed to kill. Makeup. Hair. All of it. I haven’t seen her dressed like this before. I wish it was under different circumstances.
“Jinnie—” I start, stepping toward her.
She cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t. You don’t have to explain. I get it now. You’ve got groupies. Women who want you because of what you do up there. That’s not me. I would never be so shallow. I’m clearly not your type.”
The other women awkwardly step back. The blonde just raises an eyebrow, watching like this is entertainment.
“Jinnie, it’s not like that.”
“Oh no?” she snaps. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like that.”
“I wasn’t flirting with her.”
“She was flirting with you.”
“Yeah, and I didn’t flirt back!”
“But you also didn’t walk away,” she says, voice trembling just slightly. “You didn’t say you were taken. You didn’t even look uncomfortable. You looked like you were loving it.”
That stings. Mostly because I don’t know how I looked. I was trying so hard to play it cool, be polite, not cause a scene. But maybe I came off all wrong.
Jinnie storms out. I stand there for a few seconds watching her disappear.
“Shit.”
I run out after her. If I have to choose between singing or her, it’s always going to be her.
I follow her into the alley, lit by one flickering streetlamp.
“Jinnie. Stop.”
“Go away, Jack. Or should I say Jumping Jack?”
I cringe. “I can’t control what they call me.”
“No, but you don’t have to feed into it.”
“Jinnie, it’s an act,” I say.
She stares at me, clearly not impressed with my excuse. I don’t blame her.
“You know how nervous I was to come here tonight?” she asks with emotion in her voice. “How I stood in front of my closet for twenty minutes trying to find something that made me feel even halfway decent? Because I wanted to look good for you. Because I thought maybe you’d want me the way I want you. I knew I was going to come here and see women fawning all over you but this... I can’t do this.”
“Jinnie—”
“I’m not done.” She stops pacing and stares at me, eyes watery but fierce. “I know I’m not like those other girls. I don’t wear glitter. I don’t giggle on cue. I run a bakery. I go home and watch trash TV with my cat. I’ve got baggage and mistakes and a freaking trial coming up that makes me feel like a total idiot. So maybe I’m not enough. I get it. I do.”
The silence that follows is brutal.
I take a step closer with my heart in my throat. “You think I don’t want you?”
She laughs bitterly. “I think you want attention. And you’re getting it, and you’re good at it. I think you’ve got something shiny going here, and I’m not shiny.”
“No.” I shake my head. “No, you’re not. You’re real. You’re smart and strong and sarcastic and gorgeous, and yeah, you’ve got stuff going on—but so do I.”
She looks away.
“I didn’t tell that blonde anything because I didn’t care what she was selling. I wasn’t thinking about her. I was thinking about the song. About how good it felt to play it. About how you helped me make it better and I forgot to say that from the stage and now I feel like an idiot.”
Jinnie’s quiet for a second. “You forgot?”
“Yeah. I got caught up in the crowd. But I meant to. I swear.”
She doesn’t answer right away. She just studies me, like she’s trying to figure out if I’m telling the truth or spinning some sweet-talking musician line.
“I miss you,” I say, softer now. “I miss just sitting with you. Talking. Laughing. Falling asleep next to you. I haven’t been around as much because I’ve been trying to prove something—to myself, to my dad, I don’t even know. But I want you. Just you.”
Her lip trembles, just slightly. “Then why didn’t you come inside the other night?”
“Because you’d been working since dawn, and you looked so tired. I knew you had to get up early the next morning. I didn’t want to keep you up.”
She blinks. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
We stand there in that quiet alleyway, both of us breathing hard, both of us worn out by the mess we just exploded. And then she steps forward and presses her face to my chest.
I wrap my arms around her immediately, pulling her in, resting my chin on her head.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispers.
“You won’t,” I murmur. “Not unless you walk away.”
“I tried.”
“I know.” I smile, just barely. “I’m glad you didn’t get far.”
After a long moment, she looks up at me and I kiss her. Not a showy, public kiss. Just a quiet, steady, grounding one. The kind that says hey, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.
“You have to finish your set,” she says.
“I do, but I’m not going to do it if you don’t want me to,” I say.
“Go finish your set.”
“Not without you. I’m not going back in there if you don’t come with me.”
“I can’t.” She sighs. “I just made an ass out of myself.”
“No, you didn’t. Who cares? They’re all drunk anyway. Come on. I need you there.”