Chapter Twenty-Two
JAYCE
Jayce squeezed his eyes shut, every muscle in his body straining, yearning to move one more millimeter.
How many times had he held this exact pose? So many, it had become rote, perfunctory, perfected to the point he could fake a kiss in his sleep.
So, why were his fingers shaking?
For the first time, he actually wanted to kiss the woman on the other side of the performance. So badly, the desire consumed him, almost pushing him to the point of no return.
But he couldn’t kiss CeCe like this, tainted by paparazzi, under a guise.
It needed to be real. An undeniable, unyielding expression of his love for her. It needed to mean something. And if he crossed the line tonight, the opportunity for a perfect first kiss would be lost forever.
Satisfied with the photo opp, the paparazzi dispersed, leaving them alone on the beach once again.
Regretfully, Jayce dropped his hand, immediately missing the warmth of her skin. He took a step back in the sand, creating some much-needed distance between them. Maybe his heart would stop hammering if he could no longer feel the heat from her body.
Why did she have to look so beautiful in her casual cotton sundress with a plaid flannel button-up tied around her waist? She’d pinned back her curls with a clawlike clip, and he had a crazy urge to release them to the wind, to watch them dance around her face, to tangle them in his fingertips.
He cleared his throat, banishing the thought.
“Jayce?” CeCe murmured, her voice timid, tentative. She didn’t quite meet his gaze. “What did you mean?”
His pulse throbbed as his own words rushed back to him.
I can’t. Not like this .
Oh, no. Had he really said that aloud?
He’d been so focused on restraining his physical longing, he’d lost control of everything else. What explanation could he give her without revealing too much?
He decided to play dumb and rewind to an earlier part of their conversation, hoping she wouldn’t press further. “You mean when I said I had something important to tell you?” He continued talking before she had a chance to respond. “I have a confession.”
Her eyes widened, and for a split second, she looked wary, as if she wasn’t sure she could handle whatever he had to say.
A pang of disappointment shot through him. Was she afraid he was about to confess his undying—and clearly unwelcome—love for her?
You’re reading into things. Try to focus. He raked his fingers through his hair again, recentering. “Do you remember our conversation back in the fall? The one where you gave me some tough love?”
“The fifteenth of October,” she said softly. “I marked it in my mind as potentially the last day you’d ever speak to me.”
He smiled. If only she knew he’d fallen even more in love with her that day. For her honesty. Her wisdom. And the way she pushed him to be better, even if it meant discussing the hard, uncomfortable truths most people tried to avoid.
In a world of shallow, selfish relationships that masqueraded as friendship, CeCe was the real deal. A rare treasure. Someone to be cherished and protected, no matter what.
“I’ll admit, the convo was a gut punch. But one I needed.”
They’d spent the evening on a video call streaming a documentary on George Lucas together.
When it was over, CeCe recalled a quote in which Lucas said, “If you want to be successful in a particular field, perseverance is one of the key qualities.” She’d looked him dead in the eye and said, “But perseverance is irrelevant if you’re too afraid to take the first step. ”
“I’m not afraid,” he’d countered, knowing exactly what she meant without her needing to elaborate.
“Yes, you are,” she’d argued. “Acting is safe. You don’t care if you succeed or fail at it.
But writing is your passion. It matters.
And that terrifies you. So you keep it locked in a box, untouched.
Because you can’t fail at something you’ve never tried.
But that’s where you’re wrong. It is a failure.
A failure to fight for the life you really want.
Be a fighter, Jayce. Don’t let your dream dwindle until your dying day, when all you’ll have is what if . ”
He hadn’t made any promises, but as soon as they’d ended the call that night, he’d dragged out his laptop.
“Does that mean what I think it means?” Her dark eyes glinted with hope, drawing him back to the present.
For a moment, all he could do was stare at her upturned face, noting the way the faint light of dusk illuminated her silky skin.
The tide had reached them now, bathing their bare feet, but he didn’t even register the cold.
“I wrote a script. And I’d like you to read it and give me your honest opinion.”
“As if I’d give you anything else,” she said with a playful grin.
“That’s why I love you.” He tried to match her teasing tone, masking the deeper meaning of his words.
“But it needs to be a quick turnaround. A director friend of mine talked to a producer he knows, and long story short, the producer wants to see a copy this Friday. I’m supposed to give it to him at the award show. ”
“Jayce! That’s wonderful!” CeCe tossed her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “I’m so proud of you.”
Jayce pulled her close, burying his face in her curls, inhaling the sweet, comforting scent of her coconut shampoo.
He’d missed this—missed her .
But in the same breath, he knew this feeling—the overwhelming desire to be near her, to be more than her best friend—was exactly why he’d left.
He’d once told her that he’d needed to move away to put space between him and his parents. But that had only been partially true.
The day he’d skipped town twenty-four hours earlier than he’d originally planned, he’d been running away from her.