Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

"Kevin, I swear, if you don't tell me where we're going, I'm turning this car around and we are going back home."

He sat in the passenger seat, fiddling on his phone. "You're going to love it, trust me. Keep driving."

She sped the car along the highway heading west, with absolutely no idea what their destination was. He told her to get in the car after a surprisingly busy day at the shop—the townies flooded Port Wheels after a local foodie influencer featured the new focaccia on her page—and they were now heading off to god knew where. She'd been driving for twenty minutes now, with still no idea when the end was in sight.

"You know, I think at this point, I'm okay with getting fired," she said. "I mean, I don't think you'll actually do it since I'm single-handedly saving your business—"

His laugh sounded like a squawking bird.

"—but I'm willing to take my chances."

He looked up from his phone. "Pull off at the next exit."

She grumbled but did as she was told, following the exit and the rest of the directions he gave her, until they pulled into a train station.

Jess parked and stared up at the train tracks, flabbergasted. "Where are we going?"

"Oh my god, can you really not handle surprises?" He picked up the flat brim hat balancing on his knee, then tucked his hair and placed it backward on his head. The way his wavy hair curled around his ears and trailed down his neck made her want to reach over and tug .

She frowned—half at him, half at that warm feeling simmering in her gut. "It's like you don't know me or something."

Kevin rolled his eyes, a grin still painted on his face. "Sweetheart, look at the sign on the platform, where does it say the train is going?"

She looked where he pointed and watched the flashing electronic sign hanging above the track.

Grand Central Station, Boarding in 15 Minutes.

She gasped. "New York?"

"If we're going to a grungy underground concert, we might as well do it right, yeah?"

She slowly turned to face him. "Y-yeah."

He opened the passenger door. "Let's go."

Two hours later, they stepped off the train and into Grand Central. Jess paused when they hit the main terminal, eyes glazing over the turquoise ceiling covered in gold constellations. The station buzzed as people swerved in and out, dancing around each other as they entered and exited trains. The constant movement made her feel frazzled, and on instinct, she grabbed Kevin's hand.

He squeezed. "Are you all good?"

"Overwhelmed," she breathed. "But—a good overwhelmed."

"I've got you, sweetheart, don't worry."

She looked over at him, his eyes also on the ceiling, duffel bag slung across his shoulder. The motion made her realize a very, very big problem. "Kevin, you didn't tell me we're staying the night! I don't have any clothes!"

He smirked. "Don't worry, I've got a plan."

"And what's that?"

"You'll see. We're staying at a hotel near the station, but we won't have time to check in. Our first thing closes soon, so we need to go straight there."

He tugged her arm, keeping his grip firm around her hand as they weaved through the station and out onto 42nd Street. A melody of honking horns filled the air as flashes of yellow cabs zipped by, the setting sun casting glimmering hues on street signs and sleek buildings.

Jess kept close to Kevin, their hands still clasped, as he followed him block after block down Park Avenue. He turned right when they hit Madison Square Park, and after another few blocks, be paused in front of a distressed wood door, a rugged brown awning overhead that read Thrifty City.

Before she could comment he pulled her inside, down a flight of stairs, and through an archway that opened up to reveal a massive basement. The space looked like it spanned an entire city block and was lined with racks upon racks of clothes.

She stood there flabbergasted as Kevin unzipped his bag and handed her a second folded duffel. "Everything here is five dollars or less. The place closes at nine, so that gives us two hours to find you—"

"The perfect pair of jeans," she finished for him.

"Exactly. And a few other things, you know, to replace those high school tank tops you say you don't care for. Maybe you'll even find something fun to wear to a concert."

She looked up at him. He remembered. Even if it was a small comment about a tank top she didn't care about, he remembered it and found a place where she could do a complete wardrobe overhaul. One that even fit her budget. "Th-thank you."

He smiled that perfect golden boy smile. Under the flickering fluorescent basement lights, he still glowed. He walked backward as he made his way down the racks. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's find you a pair of jeans that perfectly accentuate that amazing round ass I now know you have."

She rolled her eyes and followed him farther into the thrift shop, then they got to digging.

They rode the elevator up the 18th floor of their hotel, duffel bags stuffed with Jess's new wardrobe. They'd found soft cotton T-shirts and comfy oversized sweaters and dressier tank tops and linen shorts that actually made her feel like an adult—a far cry from the distressed cut-offs of her high school days. She even bought new chunky sandals and Boston clogs that made her squeal with delight, a small pleather crescent bag, and of course, the perfect pair of jeans. Light wash, no rips, straight leg that cut right below her ankle, stretchy enough around her curves, the denim at her hips no longer cutting into her skin.

The entire haul made her feel giddy. "I forgot how much of a rush shopping can be."

The elevator dinged as the door opened. She followed Kevin down the hall.

"And all for under fifty bucks! It's like your dream come true."

"You have no idea."

Kevin tapped the key on the door of their room, and it finally dawned on her. Panic rose in her chest. "Wait, we're sharing a room?"

"Figured paying for two wasn't in the budget?"

Damn, he's right , she thought to herself. If he'd gotten two rooms she would have definitely given him shit for being so frivolous. But… still.

She followed him in, then exhaled. The space was small, but it was big enough to squeeze in two queen-sized beds.

"You got two beds."

Kevin placed his hands on his hips, looking vexed—but in his usual, playful way. "Did you really think I wouldn't? You're so adamant !"

She smirked. "Come on, admit it, sleeping in your own bed is really nice."

He grumbled something she couldn't quite catch as he plopped his duffel bag on the bed and unzipped. "The concert is at ten. I was thinking we could grab a dollar slice somewhere on the way?"

She plopped her own bag on her bed, rummaging through her goodies, that giddiness bubbling up in her chest again. "I have so many options now. This is awesome."

"Your ass deserves to be in those jeans tonight."

"Which ones? I found four pairs."

His head dipped, his pupils dilated. "You know which ones."

She smirked, pulling them from the bag. "Pizza sounds great. Give me five minutes to get changed."

Jess kept close at Kevin's heels as they walked up to a crowded dive bar, booming music flooding through the open floor-to- ceiling windows. Patrons poured out the bar holding plastic cups of foamy beer.

After a bouncer checked her ID and stamped her hand, Kevin snatched it and pulled her in, keeping his grip firm as they snaked their way through the crowd and close to the stage. He didn't let the small clusters of people stop him as he pushed his way forward until they made it to the front, then pulled her to the stage and stood behind her, like a guard.

"We don't have to be in the front , you know," she teased. "I wasn't even expecting to see the stage."

"Oh trust me, we need to be in the front," he quipped. "Is the vibe good? Floor sticky enough for you?"

She lifted her new chunky sandals, delicate straps buckled around her ankles. It was certainly sticky, and it made her grin. "Vibes are immaculate."

The lights dimmed and the crowd screamed. Jess cheered along with them, even though she had no idea who was about to hop on stage. When the band stepped up the screaming grew louder, her ears ringing and popping from the sound. But when she saw the singer with hot-pink hair approach the microphone, everything in her vision felt like it slowed, the cheering and the screeching from the amps dulling.

"Kevin…"

The singer with hot-pink hair snatched the microphone. "NEW YORK, MAKE SOME NOISE!"

More screaming. Jess watched in awe as the bassist fiddled with the amp, the drummer trilled the bass pedal, and the guitarist held up rock signs to the crowd.

"We're Definitely Maybe, and you're going to need a drink in your hand for this one."

The guitar started to tick as the lead singer unhooked the microphone from the stand and began to sing. The bass dropped, the drums cracked, and the band rolled into the first chorus of "You + Me." Jess didn't stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks as she watched her favorite band perform live. She turned to face Kevin behind her, his eyes on the band, his arms in the air.

He was singing along. He knew every single word.

The band rolled through all of her favorite songs, and she sang along without abandon, not caring if her ears would be ringing for days after standing so close to the speaker, or if her voice was hoarse from singing the lyrics she knew so well—the songs that'd brought her back to life. Full of hope for people like her; who felt dark, lonely, anxious, disappointed, abandoned. The entire moment was magical, and she never wanted it to end.

After the band thanked the audience and promised one more song with a wink from the singer, they rolled into the one that the entire crowd seemed to know by heart. Fans jumped and threw arms in the air as the band tipped over into their final number for the evening.

A small mosh pit formed at the center of the bar, crushing fans aside as they pushed and danced. One fan lifted his hand in the air to protect the plastic cup of beer in his fist. But another shove had him stumbling back, his beer sloshing and tipping as he headed right for Jess.

Kevin jumped between them, shielding her in his arms, and hunched. Jess peered up and watched in horror as the entire beer slipped out of the fan's hands, pouring over Kevin's hair and pooling down his back. Her body tensed as she watched him wince at the cold liquid, but then he beamed, a wide full-mouth grin of delight, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Oh my god, man, I am so sorry," the guy said, the plastic cup crushing beneath his sneaker as he stepped up to Kevin.

Kevin brushed his beer-soaked hair back and peeled an eye open, a smile still brushing his lips. "As long as you didn't get any on my girl and her perfect jeans, you're all good."

Instead of feeling irritated like usual, Jess's cheeks bloomed with pink at being called my girl. She took a step back, examining her jeans, her sandals, and her new white sleeveless bodysuit. Miraculously, she was dry. No splotches of beer in sight.

The guy exhaled in relief as the song petered out, the band wrapping up for the night. "Can I buy you both a drink to make up for it?"

"Dude, you lost your entire beer. I should buy you a drink," Kevin joked.

"That's ridiculous, no. What are you drinking?"

Kevin eyed Jess, brow cocked.

"Tequila soda with a lime, please," she answered.

He smirked and looked over at the bar. "I'll take something on tap. Mind if I go up there with you?"

"Not at all."

Kevin looked in her direction, and held up his thumb. "You okay here?"

She nodded, watching Kevin as he weaved through the crowd, joking with his new friend. Only Kevin would have an entire beer poured on him and find himself laughing with the culprit. It's like he never got angry at anything; he always found the good in people, and made everyone happier and brighter around him. Even herself. Even when she was at her lowest point in life, he bottled sunshine and handed it to her in the shape of a snarky joke, a compliment, a subtle praise.

She smiled to herself as she leaned against the front railing, watching the band exit, the stage hands already cleaning up the equipment. Music blared through the speakers as the lights brightened, the sweet ringing in her ears reminding her of how amazing all of it was.

"Here alone?"

Jess looked up to find a tall man next to her, wearing an all-black ensemble—T-shirt, tight jeans, and a pair of black suede boots that felt impractical for the muggy August evening in the city. He leaned against the railing, his arm brushing against hers.

"Um, no, my friend went to get a drink at the bar."

"Friend or…?"

Her face felt hot, her hands clammy. "Friend."

His smirk was heart melting and beautiful, his straight jaw and five-o'clock shadow the kind you wanted to trace with your hands. "Can I buy you a drink then?"

"Tequila soda with lime, sweetheart," Kevin said, thrusting a plastic cup in her direction. She watched as he paused, looking back and forth between Jess and tall, dark, and handsome. He froze.

She took her cup from Kevin's hand, her fingers brushing his slightly. "Thank you."

Handsome pushed off the railing, his height towering over Kevin by at least half a foot, maybe more. "If you want another, come find me."

She watched him step away, a little dazed at being hit on for the first time in, well, ever. He was everything a girl could dream of, and yet…even if his looks made her insides melt, she wasn't interested in more than a lingering look. Not in the slightest.

Kevin shuffled around her and lowered down into the bar seat next to him, resting his head back on the poster-covered wall as he took a sip of his beer. "You still have number eight, you know."

Jess took a sip of her drink as well, shifting on her feet. "Not like this."

He squinted his eyes. "What do you mean not like this ? That was the perfect setup, Jess. You're in a city where no one knows you. You could have your pick."

She scanned the crowd with a slow turn, her heart sinking lower and lower. He was right; she could do it if she really wanted to. She could pull tall, dark, and handsome into a corner and have her way with him, and Kevin would let her do it. To make her happy. To give her what she deserved.

But it wasn't what he deserved, and deep in her gut, she knew this wouldn't make her happy. It would leave her feeling hollow.

There was really only one person who left her feeling whole.

She finished her circle and faced him, his hair slicked back and sticky from the beer. He placed his beer down on the table and threaded his hands, resting them casually in his lap.

Be brave, Jess.

She took a long gulp of her drink and placed it on the table as well, then stepped closer to him, right between his legs. She brushed her index finger down his neck, trailing his tattoo along his collarbone and down the opening of his button-down short-sleeve, following the ivy until it hit the center of his chest. She pinched the first button and flicked it open. "I've made my choice."

He hummed, his hands still loose in his lap, not giving in to her touch. "Jess, I told you, I can't practice with you. It…it would destroy me."

"Maybe it's not practice," she whispered.

He let out a guttural sound as he leaned his head back again, slamming his eyes shut. "Sweetheart…please."

"Please what?"

"Please don't do this unless you're absolutely sure you're ready."

She played with the next button of his shirt, tucking it in and out of its hole. She let out a shaky breath. "I can't give you what you want," she admitted. "I'm not sure when I'll be ready for a big commitment. This…this is all I can give you right now."

Her stomach twisted after she said it. She knew she was hurting him, and she hated herself for it. But she needed to be honest. She wasn't sure what the "right" steps were after breaking off a nine-year relationship. But there was one thing she did know, and it was a step she was ready to take.

"I want you," she breathed. "More than anything I think I've ever wanted in my life."

He looked at her, his eyes dark and intense, his pupils dilating like they did when he saw her in those jeans at the thrift shop…when he spoke about them in the hotel room. She wanted to know how big they would get if he saw her fully naked. Her toes curled at the thought.

She released her hold on his shirt and took another sip of her drink. She broke her gaze from his and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, then slowly trailed her fingertips down the deep V of her bodysuit, landing at the tip right above her navel.

"Oh for fuck's sake."

She yelped as he gripped the belt loops of her jeans and pulled her in closer with a forceful yank. He curled his hands around her hips, his palms roaming down to the curve of her ass.

She bit her lip as she pressed her nose against his. "Maybe you're the one who needs to watch your mouth."

He slithered a hand around her neck and cupped the back of her head. "I don't think you'll be saying that after tonight."

Then he crushed his lips against hers. She dipped her tongue in his mouth and tasted him, sweet and tangy from the beer. He groaned and slipped a hand down her spine, tucking it in the back pocket of her jeans. She ran her fingers through his sticky hair and pulled. He chuckled into her mouth as they broke apart.

He gently traced her jaw and pinched her chin, then rubbed his thumb against her lips. "Tell me when it's too much, sweetheart. I don't want to do anything you don't want."

She nuzzled in closer and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I want everything," she breathed.

They couldn't get out of there fast enough.