Chapter Twenty-Five
Jack
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I DON’T WANT TO PRESUME anything as I walk her to the door. She’s been through hell. I wouldn’t blame her if she wants some time to be alone and decompress.
She opens her door and looks at me expectantly. I kiss her—slow, sweet, the kind of kiss that says finally . She tastes like chocolate. The storm’s passed. She’s free. We’re free. And I’m not ready to let her go yet.
Her fingers wrap around my tie, tugging me closer. “Come inside,” she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.
I don’t hesitate.
She closes the door and nearly pounces on me. “I want this,” she says, lips against my jaw. “I want you.”
She doesn’t have to say it twice.
Her fingers dance down my chest, unbuttoning my shirt as I back her against the door. I cup her face, my thumb brushing across her cheekbone. She’s so beautiful.
“This is what you want?” I ask, sliding one hand to her waist and pulling our hips together.
She nods, kissing me softly on the lips before pulling away to tug at my shirt collar impatiently. She jerks the tie loose, letting it fall to the floor. “I need this,” she murmurs, reaching for my belt buckle.
I laugh softly as she struggles with it, fingers fumbling with the clasp. But once it’s loose, she attacks it like her life depends on it, half-laughing as she pulls it free. My pants hit the floor before I can even think about taking them off myself.
She steps out of her skirt leaving them in a discarded heap by the door. I jerk at her blouse, pulling it over her head and dropping it on the pile. It only takes a few seconds to shed the rest of our clothes. We’re both naked now, our breathing heavy. Yeah, we’ve done this a lot, but it feels like we’re different people.
She’s different. She’s free. She can truly be mine.
I grab her face and kiss her. Her back presses against the wall, our bodies flush against each other with nothing between us. The heat of her skin against mine is electric, sending sparks through every nerve ending.
“Jinnie,” I breathe against her neck, trailing kisses down to her collarbone.
She arches into me, her nails digging into my shoulders as I lift her up. Her legs wrap around my waist instinctively. I press her harder against the wall for support. The position aligns us perfectly. I can feel her heat against me, ready and wanting.
“Now,” she whispers urgently in my ear. “I need you now.”
“Condom?”
“I’m on the pill. You’re the only one I’ve been with and will be with.”
I can’t explain what happens. Raw need flows through me. “And you’re the only one I’m with. You’re mine, Jinnie.”
I adjust my stance, bracing one hand against the wall beside her head, the other gripping her hip as I push into her slowly. She gasps, her head falling back against the wall with a soft thud. I pause, savoring the sensation of being inside her, of being connected this way.
“You okay?” I ask, voice strained with the effort of holding still.
“Yes,” she breathes, eyes fluttering open to meet mine. “Don’t stop.”
I start to move, finding a rhythm that has her moaning with each thrust. The wall provides the perfect leverage as I drive deeper, harder. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling slightly as she whispers my name like a prayer.
“Jack, Jack, Jack...”
It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
I grip her tighter, our bodies slick with sweat now as the pace intensifies. Her legs tighten around me. I can feel her starting to tremble. She’s close. So am I. Everything about this moment is heightened—the relief of the trial being over, the freedom of no more secrets, the pure, unfiltered connection between us.
“I’m right here,” I tell her, pressing my forehead against hers as I feel her beginning to unravel. “Let go, Jinnie. I’ve got you.”
She comes apart in my arms, crying out as waves of pleasure wash over her. The sight of her—head thrown back, eyes closed, completely lost in the moment—pushes me right over the edge with her. I bury my face in her neck as I follow her into bliss, her name a groan on my lips.
For a long moment, we stay like that, pressed against the wall, breathing hard, neither of us willing to break the connection. Eventually, I carefully lower her feet to the floor, keeping my arms around her waist to steady her.
“Wow,” she says with a breathless laugh, looking up at me with flushed cheeks.
“Yeah,” I agree, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wow.”
She leans up to kiss me softly. I swear I can feel something shifting between us—something deeper taking root.
“Bed?” she suggests, taking my hand.
“Definitely bed,” I reply, letting her lead the way.
We get under the sheet, her head on my chest and her fingers tracing circles over my ribs. I think this is it. This is the feeling I’ve been chasing. Not fame. Not approval. Not proving anything to anyone.
Just her.
“I still can’t believe it,” she says softly. “That it’s really over. That he was never even my husband.”
I brush my fingers through her hair. “It’s like something out of a soap opera.”
“Except worse. Because I lived it.”
“True. But at least you’re out of it now. And you’ve got people in your corner.”
She tilts her head up to look at me. There’s a soft smile on her face. “Including you?”
I grin. “Especially me.”
We fall asleep like that—quiet and wrapped up in each other.
*
I HEAR HER ALARM AND know it’s early. She has to open the bakery. It’s dark and she’s getting out of bed. I don’t want to move.
“I have to get up,” she murmurs. “Sorry.”
“Call in sick.”
She laughs as she crawls over me to get out of bed. “If only I could. Sleep. I’ll be quiet.”
She gets ready in a rush, but not before giving me a quick kiss.
“I’ll see you later?” she asks, grabbing her bag.
“You better,” I say. “Have a good day, Jinnie.”
“You too, rockstar.”
I close my eyes and fall back to sleep.
I wake up two hours later, feeling a little guilty that I got to sleep in while she was at work. I sent her a quick text before getting dressed and heading out.
When I get back to Aggie’s, she’s not there. There’s a note letting me know she’ll be gone all day and she’ll see me tonight.
That’s good. I’m glad I have the house to myself because I woke up with a song in my head, itching to get out. I like to do this process alone. I pick up my guitar, and everything pours out of me like it’s been waiting.
The song comes fast—no second-guessing, no rewriting, just truth. I strum the chords, sing the words, and by the time I hit the chorus, I know it’s a good one. Maybe it’s sappy. Maybe the old me would’ve rolled his eyes. But now? Now I just smile like an idiot and play it again.
It’s all about her and the way she makes me feel. Her smile. That look she gets when she wants me to kiss her.
I head to the bar early that night. Jinnie texted that her parents invited her over for dinner—they want to talk more about everything. I told her I’d miss her and that I’d save something special for when she shows up later.
I’m not going to play the song until she’s standing in front of me. She has to be there when I play it for the first time. I want her to know it’s for her. The song is the words I couldn’t say last night. I just hope it’s not too much, too soon. She did just get out of a shitty relationship.
The crowd tonight is good. Lively. When I take the stage, I’m feeling good. A kind of confidence I’ve never felt. It’s not just the people waiting to hear me sing. It’s knowing I got a great girl waiting for me at the end of the night. Someone I can count on and trust.
I roll through my set with ease. It’s getting easier every time. I’m comfortable in my own skin. I know how to move on stage to excite the crowd and I’m not even a little bit hesitant. Every now and then I glance toward the door, hoping she’ll walk in mid-chorus so I can catch that smile she gets when she hears me play.
Halfway through the second set, I take a quick break and head toward the back to grab a drink. That’s when I see her.
The blonde from the last gig. Same red lipstick and wearing another outfit that probably costs more than I’ll make in tips in a year. She approaches like she’s got a purpose. I square my shoulders and prepare myself to tell her, gently but firmly, that I’m taken.
“Jack, right?” she says, offering a hand. “Liz Belfer.”
“Hi, Liz. Look, I just want to be upfront with you. I’ve got a serious girlfriend.”
She snorts. “I don’t care.”
That takes me by surprise. She’s forward. “I do.”
“I work with Rockline Records. Talent scout. I saw your set last week and wanted to see if you can strike gold twice. You did. You’ve got something, Jack. That sound? It’s special. Your voice, your writing, your presence. All of it.”
I blink, not sure I’ve heard her right. “You’re a scout?”
She smiles. “And a producer. I sign artists and help shape their careers. And I’m not blowing smoke—I think you could go somewhere. Big.”
“Wait, are you serious?”
“Very. We’re based in Memphis. We do recording, promotion, everything. We’ve launched some major careers—maybe you’ve heard of Alix Rhodes?”
“Uh... yeah.” I let out a shaky breath. “So, what... you want to sign me?”
“I want to offer you a deal. Come to Memphis, record with us. Build your brand. It’s a real opportunity.”
It takes me a second to respond. This is the kind of moment I’ve dreamed about my whole life. But now?
Now there’s Jinnie.
She’s not here yet. I can’t read her expression. Can’t ask what she thinks. All I know is my gut’s tying itself into knots.
“I... wow. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll think about it,” Liz says smoothly. “I’ll send you the details. We can talk details later.”
I nod slowly, still stunned. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll think about it.”
She slips a card into my hand. “Do that. And Jack? Don’t let this pass you by.”
She disappears into the crowd before I can say another word.
I stand there, holding her card, my heart hammering in my chest. Suddenly I feel like I’m balancing between two versions of my life. One with her, here, in this place that feels more like home than anywhere I’ve ever been. And one where I pack a bag and chase the spotlight.
It should be easy.
But nothing about Jinnie ever is.
I head back to the stage, force a smile, and pick up my guitar. I scan the crowd again. Still no sign of her. I put everything else to the side and begin the next song.
THE END