Pretty Words: An Enemies To Lovers Rock Star Romance (River Valley Rebels)

by Gabrielle Sands

“Do you want to order first?” he offered. Something about how he said it made me think he knew how nervous I was.

  “Okay.”

  We placed our orders—rice bowl for me, salad with extra tofu for him, and two waters. The waitress left, but not before blatantly eye-fucking Jamie as he spread a napkin over his lap. He leaned back in his seat, seeming at ease. His gaze skated over the view of the ocean and then he focused back on me.

  I took a breath and jumped right into it, not giving myself a chance to chicken out. “I want to start by thanking you again for taking care of me on Saturday,” I began. “You didn’t need to do that, but you did anyway, and you probably saved me from getting into even more trouble.” I cleared my throat. “I texted you because… Well, frankly, I feel bad for how I behaved in the coffee shop. We may disagree on the stuff that happened with—” I lowered my voice, as if his name weren’t meant to be spoken. Maybe between us, it wasn’t, “—Oliver and I, but you’re trying to get better, and I shouldn’t have trounced your attempt at making amends. So I want to apologize for that and tell you I accept your apology. I think after the club… I realized you’re genuinely trying to change, and I wanted to acknowledge that. I know it must be tough.”

  The whole time I was talking, he watched me intently, but when I finished, he turned his head toward the water. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he stared at the crashing waves in the distance, tension wrinkling the skin around his eyes.

  I sipped on my water, occupying my restless hands with the glass. Had I offended him with my little speech? I didn’t really know how to talk about what he was going through. Besides him, I didn’t know any addicts, recovering or otherwise. Maybe I needed to pay more attention in my class.

  I decided to ask. “Did I say something wrong? I hope I didn’t offend you.”

  He turned back to me immediately. “No, not at all. I just needed a second.” His eyes were glassy before he blinked the sheen away. “After years of numbing out my feelings, sometimes I feel too much these days. I’m…touched by your words.”

  “Oh.” His vulnerability was disarming. I smiled. “That’s good. I guess.”

  “It’s not good that me acting like any decent person would in that situation was such a surprise to you. I know you probably haven’t thought very fondly of me all these years.” His smile was tinged with sadness. “In some ways, I’m glad I got a real chance to change your opinion. It’s a rare gift that I probably don’t deserve. Thank you, Ivy.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said numbly. He seemed humbled by whatever he’d gone through. Where was the Jamie who’d shamelessly made out with groupies whenever the opportunity presented itself?

  He cradled his jaw with his palm as he watched my expression, then he chuckled against his hand. “You’re trying to make sense of it all. I can see it in your face. I’ve gotten good at picking up on it, since I’ve seen it so many times over the past few months.”

  I folded my hands on the table. “Before we met for coffee, the last time I saw you, you were being carried out on a stretcher. So, yeah, it’s all a little hard to process.”

  He rubbed his chin. “I’m sorry you had to see that. That was a bad night. It was the last time I drank.”

  “You just went cold turkey afterwards?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Yeah. Went through withdrawal in the hospital. You know, they always warn you about how brutal physical withdrawal symptoms are, but the reality is they’re nothing compared to the psychological loss one feels when that old safety net is no longer there. At least, that’s how it was for me. That’s why I knew I needed to get proper support as soon as I got discharged. Checked myself into rehab while I was on the way to the airport, and I managed to resist the free cocktails the stewardess offered to me three times.”

  “How did you manage that?” I asked, a little surprised with how openly he was sharing all of this.

  He chuckled. “You’re going to laugh.”

  “I won’t.”

  “The woman sitting beside me had a support animal with her. She took one glance at me once we got to ten thousand feet and handed me the mini poodle. Said I looked like I needed it more than her. So I played with this ten pound bundle of fur for the entire flight, and next thing I knew, we were starting the descent.”

  A giggle burst out of my lips, and Jamie gave me a chastising look.

  “Sorry,” I rushed to say. “It’s just kind of adorable. Did it inspire you to get a pet?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I haven’t pulled the trigger yet.”

  “Well, seems like you’re doing just fine on your own,” I added.

  A salty breeze picked up and sent one dark strand flying over his forehead. He moved it back with a sweep of his hand. “You know,” he said, his voice taking on a somber tone, “everyone tells me how much I’ve changed, but I think I’ve just returned to who I was before I let my life nearly slip away from me.”

  “Your old friends must be glad to have you back,” I offered.

  His smile was sad. “I didn’t have many friends back then. I was a bit of a loner before Ritual Disruption took off. It’s much easier to make friends when you’re known as the guy who’s guaranteed to give them a good time, even if he ends up passed out in his own vomit by the end of the night.”

  I flinched. God, that sounded awful.

  His brows pulled together. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overshare—”

  The waitress returned to the table with our orders, interrupting him, and giving me a moment to process what he’d just said. A loner? For the first time, I wondered what had started Jamie’s habit. Had it been his way of changing himself to fit the image of a rock star? I wondered if he’d started drinking for the same reason I’d taken Molly two nights ago—to become someone different.

  “I don’t mind listening,” I said as soon as the waitress left. “And I can relate. Not to the vomit part, but the whole being a loner thing.”

  He shot me a curious look. “Never would have pegged you as one. You seemed pretty social on tour, based on the little I saw.”

  I stuffed a forkful of rice in my mouth as I considered my response. Did I want to get into my rationale for going on that tour? I decided there was no harm in it. After all, even if he thought I was ridiculous, this was likely the last time we’d talk.

  “That was my big outing into the world,” I confessed. “I wanted to try on a different personality and see what happened. The two weeks felt like the perfect opportunity for it, since if I totally embarrassed myself, I wouldn’t see the majority of those people ever again.”

  His lips curved up. “Sounds like a good idea. What were the results?”

  “Well…” I trailed off and immediately thought of Oliver. In many ways, meeting him had derailed the entire experiment. I was so sure he’d change me into someone great, that I’d just handed him the reins. And when he was no longer there, I’d reverted right back to the old Ivy.

  My fork clanked on the edge of the bowl. “Let’s just say this past Friday was the first time I’ve tried to step out of my comfort zone since. And it ended just as disastrously as the tour.” I tried to laugh off the emotion in my voice, but Jamie didn’t join in on the laughter.

  He searched my face for something. “If you ever want to talk about what happened with Oli—”

  “Oh, I don’t,” I cut him off, moving my gaze down to my plate. “I guess I’m starting to realize that maybe I’m not meant to be anyone different. Maybe I just need to make peace with who I am.” This was getting deep, but Jamie seemed unbothered by us wading into these waters.

  “I think that’s smart. One of the lessons I’ve taken from everything that’s happened in my life is that growth starts with acceptance. You need to accept who you are—really embrace that person—before you try to make certain changes. If I’d done that back when Ritual Disruption was taking off, I may have never gotten addicted. But instead, I was so obsessed with running
away from who I was, that I was willing to do stupid things and put my trust in the wrong people.”

  Yeah, I knew what that was like. I still hadn’t seen Mimi since I got home after Jamie’s, but it was safe to say I wouldn’t be hanging out with her again. “Do you regret it? Becoming a musician?” I asked.

  “No.” He paused to finish chewing before continuing. “I loved making music. And playing it. The first few years were pure bliss. Well, that’s not completely true. I struggled with all the attention even early on. For a while, I managed to deal with it. It just didn’t last.”

  “So it was the attention that bothered you the most?”

  He let out a breath. “It was a lot of things, but yeah. In the beginning, I wasn’t a confident performer, and I hated being on camera. It felt like there was this enormous spotlight on all the things I was doing wrong. I’d get full-blown panic attacks some days.”

  The unexpected similarities between Jamie and I were more than a little disorienting. “I get those, too,” I confessed, buoyed by his honesty.

  His eyes flashed with surprise. “Really?”

  “Yeah. For me, the trigger is feeling claustrophobic when surrounded by people.” I told him the story about getting lost at the Christmas market. “Dancing together in that club was the first time I’ve felt all right doing something like that.” Heat prickled across my cheeks at the memory. I glanced away when Jamie looked at me from under his eyelashes. “I guess the MDMA helped.”

  For a few minutes, we ate in silence, and I couldn’t resist stealing glances at him. The wind had ruffled his hair, and he looked a bit undone, as if he’d just gotten out of bed. What did he look like first thing in the morning? Did he sleep naked or in a pair of boxers? I was inappropriately curious about it. He definitely looked like a boxer-brief kind of guy. Actually, given his rock-star past, maybe he preferred to go without underwear…

  I squeezed my thighs together again and gulped down some water.

  “I never asked,” Jamie said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “What are you studying?”

  “Psychology,” I said quickly.

  He hiked a brow. “Sounds like an interesting major. Do you want to be a psychologist?”

  I stabbed at a piece of tomato. “I’m not sure. Given my own problems, I don’t know if I can be someone who helps other people.”

  He leaned slightly toward me, his arms braced on either side of his plate. “I think you absolutely can. You helped me.”

  The utter confidence in his tone made me squirm in my seat. “Are you talking about the ambulance again? Honestly, it was nothing.”

  Jamie shook his head. “Not only that. You saw me right away for what I was. A guy who needed help. I heard you say it in that dressing room when you argued with your brother. Then later in the stairwell. Even when you were angry, you told me the same thing. What you don’t realize is that no one on that tour saw me like that. To the rest of them, I was an asset that needed to be managed. As long as I kept performing, no one really cared what I was doing to myself.”

  I frowned as my defensive walls shot up at the singer’s lie. Oliver had tried to help Jamie, I knew that for a fact.

  Do you? The voice in my head was Zoey’s. That’s what he said to you, but do you have any real evidence?

  Oliver had kept an eye on Jamie whenever they were in the same room together, as if it were an instinctual response. He’d worried about him. He’d taken care of him. He’d even said he’d cancel the tour if that would help Jamie. Yet when it came down to actually doing it, he hadn’t seemed too happy. Then again, who would be happy about something like that? And most importantly, why would Oliver lie to me about the dynamics between him and Jamie?

  I cleared my throat. “Oliver told me he encouraged you to go to rehab.”

  Jamie’s expression darkened in the blink of an eye. “Is that what he said? What else did he tell you?”

  Goosebumps covered my arms as the air around us suddenly grew heavier. I stood at a crossroads. If we stayed on the subject of Oliver, I had a feeling this lunch would quickly devolve into a far-less-pleasant conversation. There was bad blood between the two men, and it would be one guy’s word against the other. Did I really want to get mixed into this? Right as I was finally trying to move on?

  “You know what, let’s not talk about him,” I said, fiddling with the napkin in my lap. “It seems we get along much better when he’s not a part of our conversation.”

  Jamie’s gray eyes bore into me. “Yeah, we do.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “Okay. I’m fine with that.” A beat passed. “Getting back to my earlier point, your compassion definitely got through to me. It’s something I thought about quite often when I was in rehab.” His face flickered with something vulnerable, and he turned toward the ocean.

  My heart was beating loudly in my chest. Was it possible that I’d really helped him? I still didn’t feel like I’d done much, but the thought of contributing to his eventual recovery, even in a small way, made me feel strangely optimistic. It was amazing to see how he’d turned his life around. If I’d managed to help him without even trying, what could I do for other people if I put my mind to it? Curiosity bloomed inside of me, and I made a note to come back to this idea later.

  “So what are you doing these days?” I asked.

  “Mostly trying to stay sober,” he said, picking at the last of his salad. “But I’ve discovered that I’m best able to do that when I stay busy. So I work out, I meditate, I cook a lot, and most recently, I’ve been trying to write some music. Just acoustic stuff, as far from Ritual Disruption’s sound as you can imagine. It’s been good to get back into it.”

  I nibbled on my lip. Oliver had told me that he wrote all of Ritual Disruption’s music. Was Jamie implying otherwise? Since we’d agreed not to talk about him, I let it go.

  “Sounds like you have a very healthy lifestyle,” I said. “You’re definitely doing much better than me in that department. I haven’t used my gym membership once since the semester started, and I’m embarrassed to admit that I eat mac and cheese from a box multiple times a week. Don’t let this rice bowl fool you.”

  He raked his gaze over my body so quickly I nearly missed it. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re young. When you get old, like me, that’s when you really need to work at it.”

  Old? I was pretty sure Jamie was thirty. No one in their right mind would call him old.

  “Plus,” he continued. “I gotta make up for the beating my body took from all the touring and partying and… Damn it.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and placed his fork down. “Sometimes, I think it’s impossible for me to have a conversation without bringing up my past. You must think I’m a broken record.”

  I smiled, amused by his self-deprecating tone. “It doesn’t bother me. But if it bothers you, we can play a game. Every time you talk about anything that happened prior to your recovery, you have to—” my gaze landed on the ketchup bottle on the table, “—eat a spoonful of ketchup.”

  He wrinkled his face in disgust. “Wow. That’s a cruel and unusual punishment.”

  “Well, it has to be motivating,” I quipped.

  “Oh, I’m motivated all right,” he said, leveling me with a teasing smile.

  My gut exploded with butterflies. His gaze dropped to my lips, just the way it had in his car, and suddenly, I was pulsing between my legs. This was so bad.

  “You said you meditate?” I said a little too breathlessly. “Tell me about it.”

  His smile returned, and he began telling me about a new type of meditation he’d been practicing. The conversation flowed with surprising ease. We talked and talked until our plates sat empty and the water glasses had been refilled twice. The sun was blinking from beyond the clouds that had at last broken the unbearable heat of the past week. I couldn’t recall the last time I had talked like this with someone I didn’t know well. Normally, I’d still be navigating awkward small talk and wishing for it to end.

  When the check c
ame, something suspiciously akin to disappointment washed over me. I was so unnerved by it, I missed my chance to argue about the bill before the waitress quickly returned and Jamie handed her his card.

  “I was the one who asked you to come out. I should have gotten it,” I mumbled.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, putting his card back in his wallet and standing up.

  My gaze trailed his form, noting the perfect fit of his dark jeans and the way they flattered his toned butt. He looked at me expectantly, probably wondering why I hadn’t gotten up, and I forced myself to stop checking him out.

  I didn’t anticipate I would enjoy the lunch this much.

  When we got down to the exit, words left my mouth before I could stop myself. “Can I at least get you some ice cream?”

  JAMIE

  I held the door open for Ivy as we left the Saratoga and headed toward the boardwalk. Given that it was Monday, the area wasn’t busy with tourists or locals. We walked side by side, occasionally stealing glances at each other. I felt oddly exposed under Ivy’s gaze. Well, maybe it wasn’t so odd, given how much I’d spilled to her in the restaurant.

  I wanted her to see how I’d changed from the man she remembered. The night at the club had given me an opening, and now that we were together again, I wanted to bring that point home. Why did I care so much about what she thought of me? Despite the surprising invitation to prolong our meeting, I knew better than to assume I’d see her again after we went our separate ways. Maybe that was the appeal? I’d gotten another chance to clear things up between us, and at this point, I had nothing to lose.

  We made our way onto the boardwalk, and Ivy turned to look in both directions. “I think I remember a tiny ice cream shop if we walk a little to the right,” she said.

  “Sounds good.”

  While she was distracted searching for the shop, I studied her profile. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail today—the purple streaks only just peeking out—and I was drawn to her neck. Its creamy skin was lighter than the tan glowing over her arms and legs, and I wondered how it would feel to press my lips just under her ear. My mouth had been so close to that exact spot when we were dancing together.