It's my Jack Henry.
He gets out of the cab and stands in the heavy rain looking back at me. I don't know how—because my body has turned to mush—but I'm off my knees and running toward him. I pummel him against the open door when I reach him and squeeze my arms around him tightly, using all the strength I can muster. My knees are far too weak to stand in his arms without falling. I bury my face against his neck and breathe him in. This is where I want to be forever—in Jack Henry's arms.
"Are you in or out, man?" I hear the driver call from inside the cab.
Jack Henry doesn't answer and I ease my tight grip on him so I can look into his eyes. I touch his face because I can't believe he's real. "You sort of have a beard. Almost. I love it. It's sexy."
As I cradle his face with my hands, I'm bothered by what I see. This should be the happiest moment of our lives—it is for me—but his expression leaves me with a different feeling. Something isn't right. "What's wrong?"
His face is pained. "We need to talk."
Of course, we need to talk but his tone makes me uneasy. If I'm being honest, it downright scares the shit out of me because it sounds so ominous. "Okay."
"Do you need to go inside to get your things?"
"Yes. But it'll only take a minute." I take his hand because I don't want to be away from him for even a second. I'm afraid he'll disappear. "I want you to come with me."
He leans inside and tells the driver, "I'm staying," before he shuts the door.
I grasp his hand tightly as we walk toward the entrance to the concert hall.
I'm certain he saw Charlie kiss me. Shit! He probably thinks I'm with him now. But I'll explain. I'll make him see that he'll always be the only one for me.
When we get to the door of the lounge, he stops. "I think I better stay out here."
Yeah. He definitely saw Charlie kiss me.
"I won't be long."
I walk through the lounge door and Charlie is still sitting in the same spot I left him. I have no idea what to say to him. He's spent the last two months patiently pursuing me in the sweetest manner. It's going to be painful for him for a while, but my heart knows it's the only way. He deserves to be someone's everything, not second place to a man I could never stop loving.
I sit next to him to explain—because he's a friend and I feel I owe him that—but he already knows. I see it on his face. "He chose to come for you on the night I planned to make my big move."
I nod because I can't answer. Charlie loves me and has been so kind the last two months. It's painful to hurt him like this.
His forearms are propped on his thighs as he leans forward, staring at the floor. "That's good. You deserve to be happy. But I sure wish he'd come before I had the chance to fall in love with you."
Dammit. Why does this have to be so hard? "I'm sorry. I truly didn't intend for that to happen."
He continues staring at the floor and I suspect it's because he doesn't want me to see the tears in his eyes. "I know, and it's not your fault. You're just too damn easy to love. You told me from the beginning you didn't think you could love anyone else after him. Now you'll never have to try."
I want to tell him he deserves so much more than me and reassure him he'll find the one to give him all the love he deserves, but he's not in a place where he's ready to hear that. "I have to go, Charlie."
"Of course you do." He looks up at me. I was right. He has huge tears in his eyes and my heart breaks for him. "Don't forget that the bus pulls out at nine sharp tomorrow."
Is he afraid I won't come back? "I'll be there." I pick up my Martin and place it on the couch next to him. "Can you ask the crew to be sure this makes it onto the bus?"
"Sure."
Jack Henry is waiting for me in the hallway. He's standing on the far side of the corridor and I wonder if it's because he's afraid he might overhear something Charlie has to say. He walks in my direction when he sees me. "Where do you want to go?"
I want to go wherever I can get naked with Jack Henry and show him how much I've missed him. And I don't want to risk running into any of the band or crew. "Where are you staying?"
"I have a suite at the Fairmont."
"I want you to take me there."
We're both silent in the cab on the way to the hotel. He looks straight ahead while I stare at him from where I'm sitting. I'm sure he must see me but I don't care. I can't stop because I'm afraid he'll disappear like a phantom.
I want him to kiss me like crazy all the way to the hotel, but he doesn't. In fact, he never even looks in my direction. I wish I were brave enough to reach for his hand so I could get some kind of reaction from him, but I don't. I'm too afraid—I'm not sure where his head is after seeing Charlie kiss me.
This isn't going to be good. Why did he have to see that?
We walk through the luxurious hotel lobby and get onto the elevator. I'm closed up with him and two other people in the tiny space for only a minute or so, but the sexual tension we're radiating is almost suffocating. I want him so badly, it hurts. I need to touch him, to feel his skin against mine.
I don't have time to brush up next to him because the elevator arrives on the sixth floor where his suite is located. After the door clicks behind us, my heart, and my body, rejoice. We are alone at last. And I'm scared to death.
We've been apart for three months and another man is kissing me when Jack Henry sees me for the first time. The situation is a nightmare that never factored into any dreams or fantasies I had about our reunion.
Damn, this sucks. What is he thinking? Is he angry with me? Or hurt? Or worse—maybe he doesn't care enough to feel pain or anger. I can't tell because he's being so obscure.
The air conditioning is on and the room is really cold. I'm soaked to the bone and feel myself shivering. Or maybe I'm trembling from fear. Either way, he takes notice. "You're drenched and freezing to death. Go take a hot shower to warm up and we'll talk after you're finished."
I think it's a bad sign he doesn't want to take me to bed and strip me out of these cold, wet clothes so he can warm me up himself. That's what my Jack Henry would do, without any hesitation at all.
"Okay," I say, feeling deflated. This isn't what I had in mind. I'd hoped he'd want me as much as I want him. But he doesn't.
I go into the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. Holy shit, I look awful. No wonder he wants me to shower. Who wants to look at this? I look like a drowned raccoon thanks to the black mascara smudged under my eyes. Beetlejuice never looked this shitty.