I flinched and searched for a comeback. I didn't want to tell her about everything that had happened with my dad, so there wasn't anything to say.
She sighed, and her face looked more frustrated than I'd ever seen it. "Jax, you don't have to tell me what's going on. But the way you're acting, I think you need to talk to her. You need to do something."
I shook my head. "I'll handle a breakup however I want."
"Oh, look at the tough guy!" Sky cried, her eyes narrowing skeptically.
"What do you want, me to cry on your shoulder?" I said with a sneer.
She gave me a scornful look. "Fine, if you want to be tough, whatever. But think about how she feels. She knows that you love her, and she loves you, but you won't be in a relationship with her. That has to be breaking her heart."
Her words sent a shiver through my body, taking the fight out of me. "Even if that were true," I said, my voice low, "It doesn't make any difference now. I fucked everything up, big time."
"It's not too late. If you love her, you need to tell her."
I jutted out my chin. "But what if I hurt her even more by trying to come back now? Maybe she'd be better off if I stayed lost."
She shrugged. "I don't know. She might think that. I tried calling her a few times just to see how she was, and she never answered. But maybe she'll answer for you." She patted my shoulder. "All you can do is try."
"Maybe," I said, my eyes downcast.
Sky stood up. "Jax, I know you have baggage," she said with a compassionate look on her face. "Don't let it ruin your life. Or Riley's."
She left the living room. I heard her moving around in the kitchen, but the noises seemed far away to me. I lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.
What if she was right? Could Riley and I have a future together? All I wanted to do was protect her from getting hurt—but I already might have hurt her more by pushing her away.
Sighing, I got up and grabbed my jacket from off the floor where I must have tossed it last night. As my hand closed around it, a crunching sound came from one of the inside pockets.
I reached my hand in curiously. My fingers touched paper, and I pulled it out. I stared down at what I held with surprise.
It was an envelope. With words written on it: For when the shows are over.
Riley. This was her gift to me. Not to be opened until we were apart. Somehow I'd forgotten all about it.
My fingers trembled as they smoothed the slightly crumpled envelope. With one smooth tug, I ripped it open. Out came an SD card like the kind I recorded music on, and a piece of paper. I scanned the letter with eager eyes.
But it wasn't a letter. It was lyrics.
How can I write you something new
when everything's been said?
How do I tell you all the sweet things
I'm feeling in my head?
Three little chords is all it takes
to write a song that sounds new
And three little words is all I need
To tell you that I love you.
So if you're feeling lonely
And if you're feeling blue
play these three chords and I'll remember
that you love me, too.
My heart tightened, and I closed my eyes. Riley.
Chapter Twenty-One
IT'S A BOY
Riley
Squinting at Kristen's bulging belly, I gathered a long piece of string.
Immediately, she burst into howls of laughter. "Riley," she gasped between laughs. "I know I'm huge but there's no way I'm that big!"
The other women at the baby shower giggled, and I sheepishly cut the string. Kristen looped the big ball of string around herself, snipped it off when it was all the way around her belly, and then spooled it away from herself and compared it to the strings held out by all the other women at the party. "The closest guess, and the prize, goes to . . . Lauren!"
Lauren got up to get her gift basket, already starting to waddle from her own pregnancy. I glanced, for what must have been the fiftieth time, at the clock in my living room. How much longer was this going to go on?
When her venue cancelled, having Kristen's baby shower in my apartment had seemed like a good idea—at first. After all, a party planner was taking care of the details, which meant I mostly had to stand around as the caterers and decorators came by. Supervising the setup was at least something to do that wasn't binge-watching entire seasons of America's Next Top Model or scarfing down a tub of Cherry Garcia.
My feelings changed, though, when the first guests started to arrive.
Most of them, I didn't know at all—they were the wives of Vincent's friends, incredibly wealthy women whose clothes probably cost more than I made in a month. As they started to make small talk about their fabulous lives, their fabulous marriages, and their even more fabulous pregnancies, I started to feel myself go numb.
This was foreign territory to me. I'd never even lived with a boyfriend, and with Jax's breakup still fresh on my mind, I couldn't help but feel intimidated and a little—scratch that, a lot—left out by the whole thing.
So I'd spent my time talking to caterers, hanging back in the corners, and finding ways to mentally block the baby vibes. It wasn't a perfect solution, but Kristen seemed to think I was just especially dedicated to making sure the logistics of the party were sorted.
Every time I looked at her, radiant with baby glow, I felt a twinge of envy through my congratulatory smiles. I knew we weren't in a competition, but I couldn't help feeling like she'd won a lottery that I hadn't even been able to keep a ticket for.
"Listen up, everyone!" Kristen said, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Next we're decorating onesies! Everyone has a blank white one and some markers underneath their chair. When the baby's born, we'll be using these, so let's see some creativity!"
She shot me a grin, and I smiled weakly back. "Hey, Riles, get over here," she said, opening her arms as if to hug me. "Bring your onesie, too. We'll do this one together."
I walked over to her couch and gave her a big hug. A look of concern passed over her face. "You okay? I worried this might not be a good idea so soon after Ja—"
"What did we agree about that name?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
She made a zipping motion over her lips. "Right. He Whose Name Shall Not Be Spoken. Anyway, if you need to get out of here, I understand. The estrogen level in this room is way beyond the sanity point."
I shook my head, sitting on the couch next to her. "This is a huge day for you. I'm not going to let some stupid washed-up rock star ruin it for either of us."
"Good," she said, reaching for a yellow marker in a coffee table basket. "The shower's almost over anyway. Just a few marked-up onesies and party favors to go."