Chapter Twelve #2
“Tell me more about you,” I say, leaning forward slightly, trying to steer the conversation away from being all about my fame. “Let’s not make tonight about me.”
I hope she’ll take the cue and dive into her world. If we keep circling back to my fame or my life, we’ll never find anything real. And real is what I’m searching for.
“Okay, well, as you know, my daddy is a breeder of horses and…” she starts talking, and almost instantly, I tune out.
I can’t help it.
I know it’s wrong.
Hell, I know it isn’t polite.
But I can’t listen.
Because I checked out of this date right back at Strike Two.
The oysters arrive, and I couldn’t care less. Jaci has ruined the night, and I’m majorly disappointed.
But now, as I zone out and leave her to them, my eyes can’t help but wander over to Alex’s table.
Logan and she seem to be more comfortable with each other.
They’re sitting closer, and his arm is on the table, his sleeve rolled up.
She’s looking at his forearm in awe, obviously checking out his tattoos.
I grit my teeth, watching her fingers trail along his arm, stroking his skin. My chest heaves slightly, and I’m not really sure why.
I hate Logan.
He was late.
He was rude on arrival.
Logan does not get to win Alex over with some flashy ink.
She’s better than that.
When he says something—I’m not sure what—Alex instantly reacts, moving her hand to embrace his. My nostrils flare as I watch her squeeze his hand as if she’s giving him comfort.
If only I could hear what they’re talking about.
It doesn’t matter, though. After the way he treated her, he should be comforting her, not the other way around.
I want to scream, He’s playing you, Alex!
She’s a strong woman and can handle herself, I know that, but I’ll be here if she needs me.
Suddenly, her fingers lace with his, and just like that, they’re holding hands.
My stomach sinks, and a small gasp of air leaves my mouth as I watch her look at him with such sad eyes.
A part of me is glad they seem to be hitting it off—if that’s what’s happening—but the other part of me can’t get past my gut feeling.
I swear, I will tear him limb from limb if he hurts her in any way.
“Jesus, Matt, you look like you’re going to break someone’s neck,” Jaci states rather loudly, breaking me away from my thoughts.
I stop staring at Alex and Logan and avert my eyes back to Jaci. “Sorry, I’m just hungry, I suppose.”
“Well, you didn’t eat one of the oysters,” she says, and I feel a little guilty.
Then, as if on cue, the waiter brings out our entrée. He places down a bowl of pasta for Jaci and a plate of God only knows what in front of me. It appears to be a round mold of raw meat, with a side salad and some fried potatoes.
“Bon appetite,” the waiter says, and I shake my head slightly.
“Um… I don’t wanna sound rude, but what’s going on with my steak? It looks, well, um… not like steak?”
Jaci giggles as the waiter smiles.
“It’s the steak tartare, sir. Raw minced steak mixed with onions, capers, seasonings, and a raw egg yolk. It’s a delicacy, sir. Jaci chose wisely,” he tells me.
I swallow hard. “Raw?” I ask.
He nods along with Jaci.
“As in… completely?”
They both nod, and I exhale as the waiter smiles and walks off. I look at Jaci and pick up my fork, going straight for the fried potatoes.
Looks like I’ll be making a trip to Taco Bell on the way home.
“Are you even going to try it?” she asks with a slight grin.
Shaking my head, I place a potato in my mouth. “I’m brave with most things, Jaci. But raw beef mixed with raw egg? Nope! That’s not one of them. The potato and salad will do me fine,” I reply, and her grin falls to a frown as she picks at her pasta, seemingly disappointed.
There’s finally a lull in the conversation as we eat our meals. A slight awkwardness fills the air, and then a bellowing laugh from Logan filters across the room.
I look over at Alex, who’s face is beaming
At least they’re having a good time.
“Isn’t it weird there’s only one other table in this section? Are they famous, too?” Jaci asks, finally breaking the silence between us.
I figure I can roll with this conversation, so I do. It’s easier than telling the truth. “I’m pretty sure she designs a lot of covers for the music industry and is an upcoming artist. I’ve seen her around a fair bit. I’m almost positive she is quite famous here in LA.”
Jaci turns, glancing at Alex in awe.
I roll my eyes before Jaci looks back at me.
“Wow, two famous people in one room. How exciting!”
I watch the waiter walk away, but Alex’s voice catches my attention as she calls him back. She says something that makes Logan grin, leaning back in his chair like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Their night seems effortless, smooth—everything mine isn’t.
I shift my focus back to Jaci, but the illusion of the girl I’d connected with through messages is gone. In her place is someone so caught up in my fame, so far removed from the person I thought she’d be, that I feel nothing but disappointment. She’s not the down-to-earth woman I’d imagined.
My gaze flickers back to Alex. Not because I see her as anything more than a friend—no, it’s not that—but because it’s easy with her. There’s no pretense, no trying too hard. Just us, as we are.
If I’m honest, we could’ve saved each other a world of grief tonight. Alex and I should’ve just gone to dinner together. Not as a date, but because I wouldn’t feel like I’m sitting across from a stranger trying to impress me. With her, I’d be at ease. And right now, ease is what I need.
I stop looking at Alex and glance back at Jaci, who’s eating her lobster and prawn linguini.
She really is stunning, even when eating.
It’s such a shame. As I study Jaci, I wonder if maybe I should try harder.
I mean, out of my ten rules, she ticks a solid eight of them.
It’s just nine and ten that I’m not sure of—a sense of humor and, of course, getting along with Nate.
The rest are all there or pretty damn close, so like I said, on paper, she’s almost the perfect ten.
It’s just in person, she seems to be taking my fame a little too personally.
I’m not stupid. I know that comes with who I am, but I realize it may also be just something I have to deal with. So perhaps searching for someone who’s going to accept me for me—without having the Recoil attachment—isn’t a reasonable expectation.
This means I should probably put in more effort and not give up before I’ve honestly given her a chance.
Fuck, I don’t know.
I feel like I’m already overthinking a relationship that hasn’t even started, and that can’t be a good sign.
Halfway through the main course, my appetite is nonexistent, and a queasy knot sits in my stomach.
Jaci’s voice drifts on about her horses, a never-ending stream of chatter that I’m struggling to engage with.
I nod here and there, mumbling responses to seem polite, but my attention keeps slipping.
I can’t help glancing over at Alex and Logan. They’re relaxed, laughing as they dig into their meals, like the world outside their table doesn’t exist. It’s easy for them—effortless in a way this night is not. And for reasons I can’t quite admit, that only makes this all feel worse.
If I’m honest, a pang of jealousy twists in my chest, though I can’t quite pin down why. Is it because their date seems so smooth, so natural, while mine feels like an uphill battle? Or is it something else entirely—something harder to admit?
Am I jealous of Logan?
The idea feels absurd.
It has to be, right?
I shove the last piece of potato on my plate into my mouth and eat it slowly, hoping that somehow it will make me feel full, even though eating five pieces of potato can in no way fill a man.
“So, in essence, I’m kinda famous too. All the breeders know me in the industry, and the jockeys rely on me heavily for inside info. We’re not entirely that dissimilar,” Jaci says.
“Are you saying that because you know famous jockeys, that makes you famous?” I ask, and she nods her head, smiling widely.
“Ah-ha, sure, famous by association. That’s a thing, right?” Jaci takes a sip of her champagne, and I sigh, sinking further into my chair.
Yeah, there’s no point in holding out hope here.
Jaci’s a goner.
My fame has completely gone to her head.
This was over the minute she saw me.
Fuck!
“Right, yeah,” I say, trying to appease her.
“Matt, I have to be honest, you don’t seem very present here tonight,” she says, looking at me and furrowing her brows.
I exhale and rub my forehead, feeling a bit like a douche for not giving her my full attention. This is probably the last time I will see Jaci, and the least I can do is show her a good time. Leave her with an impression of me and give her the respect she deserves.
“Sorry, I am a little distracted. Things with the band are hectic at the moment, and my brother is going through something, too.”
Her eyes light up as I speak, and it’s then that I know I should probably talk about the band a little to make her feel special before I break her dreams of becoming the next ‘Recoil girl.’ And I do just that, looking into her eyes and discussing the guys.
What’s happening in their lives, without giving too many details in case she runs to the press.
You can’t be too careful.
Tillie has drilled that into us.
I tell her what it was like working with Zaria. How she was amazing, and how the music video was so much fun to make. I continue with as much as I can, without actually telling her anything. Well, anything she can’t find on the internet.