Chapter 13 #2
I took a sip of my soup and glanced at Jack.
His eyes twinkled at me over the rim of his mug, and he gently nudged me with his shoulder.
My lips curved up in a smile and I nudged back.
I felt like I should pinch myself to make sure this was not a dream.
I was actually dating Jack Garcia! Beyond the pop star was a charming, sweet, thoughtful man who wanted to spend time with me.
Me! We had a good start to the evening. Who knew where it could go from here?
The thought made the corners of my mouth twitch.
Jack caught the look and whispered, “What?”
My smile grew. “I’m just thinking how much I like being here with you, Jack.”
“I assure you, the feeling is more than mutual,” he replied with an easy grin.
Jack returned our dishes to the Pavillion and then we climbed into the sleeping bag so that we were cozily snuggled together, lying on our backs.
He pulled the blanket on top of us and I was feeling warm and comfortable, with my head resting on Jack’s chest, his arm around my shoulder, and our hands clasped.
Justin was talking us through the constellations, starting with the Big Dipper. We checked our star charts and looked up. Yup, that was the Big Dipper.
I leaned to whisper in Jack’s ear, “No dis on this, but I think Scottsdale has better stars.”
He whispered back, “I agree. And more of them.”
“I wish we could have had this blanket on the golf course and done our star gazing there.”
“I was kinda wishing the same thing,” Jack breathed into my ear. His warm breath sent little shivers down my side.
“Are you cold? I could put my half of the blanket on you,” he said solicitously.
“No, I’m OK so long as you’re snuggled up next to me.”
“I will be your personal space heater, Eve. For as long as you need me.”
Hmm, as long as I needed him? That might be a very long time.
Jack separated his hand from mine and traced the side of my face with his fingers, his eyes looking at me intently. His touch raised a swirling heat in me that had nothing to do with blankets and everything to do with his embrace.
“Jack, I think we’re supposed to be looking at the stars,” I said, breathily, though I couldn’t bring myself to stop gazing into his delicious dark eyes.
“Mmm, I see something I like better.” And he breathed a kiss into my hair.
Eeek. This really wasn’t the time or place for a make-out session, but I was tempted.
Seriously tempted. Jack moved his mouth to my ear and feathered kisses along my earlobe, then down the side of my neck.
I gasped a sharp breath, my insides tightening.
I turned my head to look at him and felt dizzy looking at the hunger in his eyes.
I wondered if he saw the same thing in my eyes.
Every touch was setting off an electrical storm in my nervous system.
If we were somewhere more private, I might have been brave enough to reach my lips to his…
In the dim, red lighting, it felt deceptively intimate. Like we were the only two people on the rooftop. It was easy to forget about the other people when I was with Jack. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was like a magnet, drawing my attention, making it difficult to look away.
We managed to resist the temptation to make out. Barely. We listened to Justin. A bit. We even checked out the stars. Occasionally. I think there might have been something about bears. And a belt. But don’t quote me on that.
When Justin was done, we all gave him a round of applause and then moved, somewhat stiffly, to roll up our blankets and sleeping bags.
Several of the couples were gathered around Justin, asking questions, so Jack and I were the first to the elevator.
He punched the button to go down and turned to me with a grin. “So, what did you think?”
“I think I like watching stars with you.” His grin widened. “Thanks for taking me. It was a lot of fun!”
“It was my pleasure, Eve. Now you have a decision to make. Do you want me to take you home, or would you like to see where the band practices? I told you; it’s just a couple of blocks from here.”
As the elevator door opened, I was considering the offer. It was late and I was getting sleepy, but I really did want to see his band space. How long could it take to show me his practice area? We’d walk over, be in and out and no time, then grab a cab home.
“OK, I’d like that, Jack.” His eyes sparkled as he put his arm around me, and we led me out of the building and into the night.
The neighborhood was not run down but definitely had not yet undergone gentrification. It had a very practical feel, like everything there had a function and nothing was for show.
Jack went to the side of a warehouse and used his key to let us into the building.
The door was right next to a large roll-up warehouse door.
Inside, Jack didn’t bother to turn on lights but went past the roll-up door to a large freight elevator.
Inside, he pulled me close to him, pushed the second-floor button and we went up.
When the elevator door opened, for the second time that night I was surprised.
I had been expecting a stripped, concrete, bare warehouse space with instruments propped up in a corner.
Instead, when Jack turned on the lights, I walked into what looked like a living room.
A well-used, tan leather couch sat opposite a navy leather couch that looked just as old, and several comfortable looking armchairs in non-matching fabrics gathered around a coffee table and what looked like an electric fireplace.
Heavy drapes clung to the windows and carpet padded the floors, but they didn’t quite overcome the chill of the warehouse.
It looked like a great place to relax with friends.
On the far side of the space was what looked like a narrow, white-tiled kitchen, sectioned off from the living room by a long counter with bar stools pulled up to it.
I could see a refrigerator and stove, so I assumed it was a functioning kitchen space for the band to fix snacks or meals.
What I did not see was any sign of musical gear. I turned to Jack. “This is your practice space? It looks really cozy, but I don’t see any instruments.”
“Oh, no, this is just for chilling. The music happens in there.” He pointed toward a door on the wall to my left that I’d overlooked. He opened it and beckoned me inside.
When he turned on the lights I gasped. The third surprise of the night.
This was not at all what I was expecting.
My mind had supplied an image of a garage band, using makeshift equipment, stuffed into a tiny space.
This looked like a professional recording studio, and it took up fully half of the loft space, based on what I’d seen from the outside.
The floor was a gorgeous, finished hardwood, strewn with area rugs.
There was a large drum set on a raised platform in the corner.
Next to it was a hardwood rack holding guitars, both acoustic and electric.
There were two keyboards and a rack of various percussion instruments.
The floor was littered with amps, mikes, and music stands.
Overhead there were unfinished beams from which hung oddly shaped geometric tiles and racks of lights. On the wall was a rack holding multiple iPads that were plugged in, charging.
The far wall had a band of windows across it and a door leading into that space. I went over to peek through one of the windows and saw several boards with sliders and computer monitors, as well as headphones hanging from hooks in the wall.
“Jack, this in incredible! I can’t believe this! It looks so…so…professional.”
“Well, I do like to think of myself as a professional musician, Eve,” he chuckled.
I swatted his arm. “I know that, Jack. It’s just, I don’t know, I didn’t realize how much goes into making music. I just hear it and enjoy it. I don’t think of all this technical stuff going into it.” I pointed over to the windows. “What’s all that in there?”
“That’s where the sound engineer works. All those boards control the speakers around the room and the feed to the headphones we all wear during practice.”
“Wow. Do you do recording in here?”
“Nope. We rent out a pro studio when we’re putting together an album. This isn’t quite good enough for recording. But it’s a goal of mine to turn it into a recording studio someday.”
“Do you think I might be able to come watch you play sometime?”
“Most definitely, Eve.” He turned to look at me, his head cocked to the side. “I just had a thought. I’ve known you less than a month. But how long have you known me?”
“The same, of course.” I left the ‘duh’ unsaid.
“What I mean is, when did you first hear about PRTY? Do you remember the first PRTY song you ever heard? Was it ‘PRTY GRLS’?”
“I might have heard it on the radio, but the first song I really paid attention to was ‘Was I A Fool?’”
He looked stunned. “Eve, you heard that song? No one’s heard of that song.”
“Well, I have. I had just moved to New York and was doing corporate training. I came home one night, kind of overwhelmed, and turned on the radio while I was unpacking. It was so beautiful and so sad. I’d just had a brutal breakup and it was like you’d heard my pain and put it to the most lovely, haunting music.
I bawled for an hour and listened to that song for about a month on repeat. ”
“I wrote that song after the blow-up with Valentina. I wrote it in the back of a notebook and didn’t do anything with it for years.
Then when we were making our second album the producers wanted one more song to round out the album, so I pulled that one out and recorded it solo with piano.
It was so out of place with our party theme that the song got almost no airtime. I’m surprised you even heard it.”
“I did and I still love that song. Thank you for making it.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, wrapping an arm around my waist. “It’s a gift to be able to hear how a song has touched someone’s life.” He gave me a smile, then turned to the door and turned off the light, ushering me out.
“Would you like me to make you some hot cocoa?”
I realized that it was way later than I usually stayed up and I was starting to feel sleepy. “Thanks for the offer, Jack, but I think I should head home. It’s way past my bedtime.”
He paused, thoughtfully, then said, “Or…you could stay here.”
I laughed. “Crash on your couch? We each get a couch? Thanks, but I think I’d sleep better in my bed.”
His lips twitched up at the corners and he said, “You could use my bed.”
“What do you mean? What bed?” What was he trying to pull here?
He nodded his head to the door next to the kitchen area. “My bedroom’s in there. Complete with bed and everything.”
“Your bedroom? Like, this is your apartment? You live here?” My voice was rising in pitch and volume.
He nodded, looking wary, like he was gauging my reaction. My reaction was that I was not pleased at all.
“You invited me to look at your practice space, but it turns out it’s your apartment. That seems a little bait-and-switchy to me, Jack.”
“I didn’t do that. I promised you practice space. I showed you practice space. The offer of the bedroom is just bonus.” He splayed his hands, to show innocence.
Suddenly it hit me. “You called this our third date. Is this the ‘three date rule’? You think we should be having sex just because of an arbitrary number of dates? I think that rule is disgusting, and you are disgusting if you think I’m going to hop in bed with you just because of someone else’s idea of when it’s right to have sex! ”
I turned to go in a fury, grabbing my bag from the couch where I’d dropped it.
Jack caught at my sleeve. “No, Eve, that’s not what I meant.
I wasn’t saying that at all. I mean, if you were offering, I wouldn’t say no, but I’m not trying to pressure you into anything.
I’ll take you home now, if that’s what you want. ”
I practically shouted at him, “Take me home? You’re already home! You’d go all the way to Manhattan to take me home and then all the way back? That’s insane Jack.”
He dropped my sleeve and looked down. “I just wanted you to have fun tonight, Eve.”
My heart sank. I was being a jerk. Assuming ill intentions when he hadn’t given me any reason for that assumption.
I took his hand, and he lifted his face, hopeful. “I’m sorry for blowing up at you, Jack. That was rude.” He shrugged, as if generously excusing my bad behavior.
“I’m not going to stay, though. I’ll get a cab. I did have fun tonight. I had an amazing time. I loved the stargazing. I loved seeing your practice space. I even like seeing your apartment, although I wish you’d been upfront with me that you were taking me to your apartment.”
He nodded, a small smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, Eve. I really wasn’t trying to pull one over on you. Let me call you a cab.”
While we waited for the cab, he did make me hot cocoa. It wasn’t nearly as good as Grandmère’s hot chocolate, but I didn’t tell him that. It was sweet of him to try.
When the cab came, he walked me out, his arm wrapped around my waist. He hoisted my bag into the cab then turned to me.
I reached up to kiss his cheek and he wrapped his arms around me.
Oh, those arms. I was going to have to put Jack Garcia arm pillows on my Christmas list. His hugs were warmer and sweeter than the hot cocoa.
I pulled back and looked into his eyes, feeling an electric current between us.
His eyes dropped to my lips. They tingled, anticipating a kiss.
He lowered his head toward mine. And then the cabbie honked his horn.
Jack gave a sigh, opened the door for me, then dug in his pocket.
He extracted a wad of bills from his wallet and handed them to the cabbie, who, eyes wide, counted the money. “This should cover it.”
“Buddy, unless she wants to go to LA, we’re good.”
Jack pulled out his phone and took the cabbie’s startled picture. “Make sure she gets safely inside her door.” The cabbie nodded happily and pulled away from the curb.
I leaned back against the seat and thought about the evening. The night of surprises. The rooftop, the stars, the music studio, and…I guess I wasn’t surprised that Jack wasn’t the kind of guy who paid attention to rules.