“Cool. Thanks.”
I got into the elevator and twiddled my thumbs as it crawled to the top floor. There were only two ways that the night would go, and I really, really hoped it would go well. Her coming back into my life again was an opportunity I wasn’t going to mess up again.
The elevator dinged, indicating it’d reached the top floor. I stepped out and made my way to her front door. My palms were all sweaty and I couldn’t figure out if it was because of the heat or because of nerves. I wiped them on my shorts. Would they leave wet patches? Shit. I hadn’t thought of that. I looked down to check. Nope. No wet patches. Phew.
Reaching her door, I knocked before I could chicken out.
She answered immediately, as if she’d been waiting for me. “Jack! You look lovely.”
I smiled. “And you look beautiful.” She was wearing a sixties-style minidress that barely covered her thighs. Not that I was complaining.
“YIP! YIP YIP!”
“What was that?” I said.
Tate started laughing. “Sorry. That’s my dog. She’s upset because she’s in her crate. She likes to jump up at people. Mom’s coming to dog sit soon.”
“I don’t mind dogs jumping up,” I said. “And given her size, wouldn’t she come up to, like, my ankle?”
Tate giggled. Oh, I’d missed that sound. “A little bit higher, but not much. Where shall we go? Unless you want to stand in the doorway all night?” she said with a smirk.
I wanted to say we could just stay in and get food delivered, but that felt like overstepping for what was basically a first date all over again. Why were first dates so awkward?
“What are you thinking?” I asked. “Dates aren’t really my thing, you know that.”
“And they’re mine?” she said. “It’s not like I get much of a chance to go anywhere without getting recognized.”
“True. Are we going to need a bodyguard if we go anywhere in public?” I asked.
“It might be best. I’ve got one on standby just in case.”
Of course she did. Yay. Another stalker.
But if it meant getting more time with her…
“Why? Have you thought of somewhere we can go?”
“Call your standby security. We’re going to the movies.”
*
Of course the movie theater was full of people. Why’d we have to go on a date on a Friday night? That hadn’t been one of my smartest ideas. We should’ve gone out at two o’clock on a Monday afternoon. Everywhere was always quiet then.
But I was spending time with Tate, something I’d wanted to do for weeks, and I needed to focus on her and not everything that was going on around me. And how I was going to sneak a drink with so many people around me. Tate probably knew I was still drinking, but that didn’t mean I wanted to do it in front of her. I was still ashamed I’d failed at rehab and that had led me to treating her so poorly, but I couldn’t admit that.
“What do you want to see?” I asked as we studied the board.
“What about the new Russell Crowe movie? That looks good.”
“Sure,” I said.
People around us pointed and whispered and probably took photos on their phones as we stood in the line and waited. Couldn’t they just come up to us and ask instead of trying to be stealthy about it? Most people, when trying to be stealthy, were about as stealthy as a barking dog doing zoomies.
Tate’s bodyguard for the night kept a close distance, blocking many people’s views, but I couldn’t help but feel like he made us more conspicuous. He wasn’t a small guy, and his hair was so brilliantly blond there was no way that it was natural. Was it? He’d tried to blend in by wearing jeans and a hoodie, but when you’re that tall and large it’s really hard to blend in no matter what you do.
I tried to include him in the conversation so that it wasn’t awkward, but he mostly just grunted, so I gave up and focused my attention on Tate. Her hair was in a platinum blonde bob that made her honey-colored eyes even more striking. It complemented her minidress and red lipstick too. Her lips were poutier than usual. Was it the lipstick? Had she done that on purpose?
“Jack, we’re moving,” said Tate, nudging me forward.
“Sorry,” I said. Taking my mind off the crowd by checking her out had worked so well that I’d forgotten where we were. Oops.
We were nearly at the front of the line. Finally! Why did lines always feel longer when you were impatient? And afraid of crowds?
I felt bad, taking Tate to the movies. Was it a good enough sort-of first date for someone like Tate Gardener? Was I keeping it too simple? She loved movies, sure, but a movie date? What were we, schoolkids?
Someone behind us cleared their throat. Oh! We were at the front.
We paid for our tickets then went to the concessions stand, where we studied the menu to find something vegan. Even in a place like New York that wasn’t easy. We settled on some drinks and dark chocolate. I could’ve had something non-vegan, but I wasn’t that hungry and I was worried she wouldn’t kiss me if I’d had something with dairy in it, like the popcorn, or with gelatin, like the candy. Lame, I know.
She tried to convince me I could have something else, but I didn’t want to. What I wanted to do was focus on her. And enjoy the movie, since what she’d told me about it sounded good.
Afterward, we went to a bar around the corner for some food. It was a high-end restaurant, which meant fewer people taking pictures as they were more accustomed to seeing celebrities around. It wasn’t too noisy, so we could have a conversation, and it wasn’t too dark, so I could check her out. Which I did. Repeatedly.
“You know, if your jaw keeps dropping like that it’ll hit the floor soon,” said Tate.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you’ve been checking me out, mister,” she said with a smirk.
I grinned. “What can I say? I know a good view when I see it.”
“Is that so?” She leaned in to me.
“It is so,” I said. I stroked her bottom lip with my finger. Her eyes smoldered, begging me to kiss her. But not yet. No, we hadn’t turned up the heat enough yet.
30
Tate
Give me your hand, it’s time for us
To do things to make your mamma blush
Your touch gives me such a rush
You’re the only one with my heart I trust.
— “Rush,” Tate Gardener
We dragged our date out as long as we could. But after going for food, eating every course, and even staying for the coffee course, it was time to decide: what now?
Spending time with him again reminded me of how much I loved his company. There was something about his presence that calmed and reassured me better than anyone else’s. And most importantly, we always had fun together. He was a welcome distraction from everything that had happened in the last few months.
“What shall we do now?” I asked. I mean, I didn’t want the date to end. But I couldn’t rely on my mom to dog sit all night either. She’d already been with Moxie for nearly six hours. It didn’t seem fair for her to get back to her place much later. I knew she should’ve taken Moxie back home like she sometimes did, but I hadn’t planned to stay out so late. “I should really get back to the dog.”
Jack’s face fell. “Of course.”
“I think she’d like you,” I said.
“Dogs always like me.”
“Well, they say dogs are a good judge of character.” I smirked.
“Maybe we should go see what Moxie thinks of me, then,” said Jack.
I raised my eyebrow. “Inviting yourself over to my place, are you?”
“You saying you haven’t missed waking up beside me?”
“And if I have?”
“You know what the solution is.” He grinned.
I grabbed his arm and hailed a taxi. We hopped in and I texted Mom to say we were on our way back. She said she’d head home then so that Moxie had some time on her own. Even a few minutes was good to
help with preventing separation anxiety. Given how late it was, she’d probably just sleep anyway.
On the taxi back, I was reminded of when I’d last gotten a taxi back to my place with a guy. That had been with Astin. It had also been a mistake. I’d used Astin. Thinking about it still made me feel sick. What a horrible thing to do to another person.
“Where’s your head at, babe?” said Jack. He reached over and touched my hand.
“Sorry. I don’t know.” I stroked his thumb. “I’ve really missed our quiet nights in.”
He smiled. “Me too.”
*
We got back to my place to find Moxie asleep in her crate in the hallway. She didn’t wake up when we got in, so we left her and snuck into the living room.
“I’ve missed you,” said Jack, walking closer so that he could cup my face with his hands.
“I missed you too,” I said. “Everything is so quiet without you.”
He laughed. It sent shivers down my spine. “I have that effect on people. Once you go Jack, you never go back.”
“Is that why you got a drink thrown at you on New Year’s Eve?” I asked with a laugh.
He lowered his hand and looked away. “You heard about that?”
“Oh sweetie, everyone heard. She was practically bragging about having gotten close enough to you to do it.”
“Bitch,” I growled.
“She did seem like one,” I agreed. “She didn’t seem to understand what she was signing up for with you.”
He tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. “You know it’s different with you, right?”
“Is it?” I wasn’t convinced. Not after last time and the way he’d responded to our breakup by sleeping with everything that had a pulse. Just because we hadn’t spoken, that didn’t mean I didn’t know what he’d been up to. I had my sources.
“Yes! Always!” he said. “You’re the only person I’ve ever seen a future with. Whatever happens in my life, I know I need you in it.”
“Need or want?” I asked skeptically.
“Both.”
Before I could respond, he pressed his lips to mine in one of the fieriest, most passionate kisses I’d ever felt. My knees buckled. He cradled my back, holding me upright. I leaned into him, desperate to taste more of his passion. Oh, it tasted good. It was waking me up in ways I didn’t even know it could. It almost made it feel like our first times together had been pedestrian—but this, this was like getting swept up in a tornado.
I was so caught up in the moment that I forgot everything. Until he reached under my shirt. I pushed him away. “I…I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s OK. I’m sorry. It was too fast.”
“No, it’s not that,” I said, shaking my head.
He stepped closer, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“It sounds like it does,” he said. He stroked the side of my face. I flinched. What the hell was wrong with me? It was Jack. Why could I suddenly not stand to be touched?
“It’s…after what I found out…I can’t…I hate…” Unable to form sentences, I burst into tears. Jack pulled me into a hug. His touch offered me some comfort, but how understanding he was just made me hate myself more.
“None of it’s your fault. You shouldn’t blame yourself,” he said.
“But I exist because of something so horrible. Just the thought of my birth father makes my skin crawl and I don’t even know anything about him. Do I look like him? Do I sound like him? Do I act like him?”
He held my face in his hands. “You have nothing in common with him. A person with a heart as big as yours would never do what he did to your birth mom. You’re your own person. Who your birth parents are or were has no influence on that because they’ve never been here. If you hate the way you look that much we’ll change it, but I have to admit, I like it.”
“Even after everything you know?” I said, my eyes so full of tears I could barely see.
“Especially after that.”
I gasped in horror.
“Let me finish,” he said. “Especially after that because it shows how strong you are. And your strength is a testament to nobody but you.”
I grabbed his cheeks and pulled his face to mine, desperate to feel his lips on me. He had a magical way of making me feel better about just about everything, and I needed to absorb that in any way I could.
Our lips never parting, I guided him toward my bedroom. I felt him smile as he realized where we were going and what I had in mind. I loved it when he smiled mid-kiss. It made me feel lucky; like I was the only person that mattered to him. Knowing that I made him happy and had the chance to take his pain away made me feel even better. Him being able to do the same for me was an added bonus.
We reached my bedroom and he pulled away, shaking his head as if to dispel whatever was going on in his head.
“What? What is it?” I said.
“Is it…are you sure? This all seems fast,” he said.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Says the guy who—”
“Sleeps with everyone with a pulse. But like I said: things are different with you. I don’t want to fuck this up again.” He rested his forehead against mine. “I love you Tate.”
No guy had ever said that to me before. I’d never expected to hear it from a guy until I was older. But hearing it from Jack just then, I knew that it was right. I was where I needed to be and with who I needed to be with. We’d make our relationship work this time, no matter what it took.
I cupped his face with my hands and kissed him. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, as if he couldn’t get close enough. The feeling was mutual.
In between kisses, I managed to tell him that I loved him too. He was unlike anyone I’d ever met, and I knew that without him in my life, it was all shades of beige. With him, I could see, hear, and feel every shade of the rainbow and I needed that. It kept me on track. It kept me alive.
We fell onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and tongues. My heart was racing so fast it was like I was at the gym doing cardio. But that was the effect he had on me, and he likely always would. I pressed my hand to his chest to see if his heart was racing too. It was.
“Making sure I’m still alive and not a vampire?” he asked.
“Just seeing if your heart is racing as much as mine,” I said.
“With you around? Always.”
31
Jack
You show me the reflection
You see of me
And suddenly I realize
I’m the person I see in your eyes.
— “Gatsby,” Jack Cuoco
I woke up surrounded by Tate. I could see her beside me, smell her jasmine perfume in the air. I closed my eyes and smiled. I was back by her side, where I belonged. She was the other half of me. I couldn’t deny the effect she had on me, mentally or physically. I was starting to realize that I had a similar effect on her, too, something I hadn’t noticed the first time around. It was amazing how much I’d learned about the world in the few months that we’d been apart. I’d started to pay more attention to the things around me, and that included her.
Tate was curled up beside me, fast asleep. I got out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and went to meet Moxie. She was sitting up in her bed. When she saw me, she jumped at the crate and started barking. I lifted her out and she wriggled in my arms, thankfully falling quiet so that she didn’t wake anyone up.
Once she’d calmed down, I took her outside to the bathroom. I figured I’d let her out, then bring her to bed with us. There was nothing more comforting than puppy cuddles.
It was only five in the morning, but the city was already brimming with people. Tate loved the busy city life and didn’t seem to mind that it meant she always needed security by her side. Not that she always had it when she was supposed to.
Moxie finished doing her business, then I took her back upstairs, cleaned her paws, and put her on the bed. She curled up on the foot of
the bed, having already learned she wasn’t allowed near the pillows. Tate had vetoed that for reasons she refused to tell me.
Not feeling tired enough to get back to sleep, I picked up my phone. It was time for my favorite bad habit: researching myself.
And of course, they’d already reported on our date. Why was I surprised?
Are Tate and Jack Back?
Is it just wishful thinking? We hope not. We caught sight of Tate Gardener and her ex-boyfriend Jack Cuoco hanging out at the movies watching the new Russell Crowe flick just last night. Rumor has it they haven’t spoken since Tate cheated on him with hunky model Astin Mack. Could they be willing to give things a second chance?
More importantly, why is he giving her a second chance when she cheated on him? Would you give a cheater a second chance, or do you believe that once a cheater, always a cheater? Let us know in the comments below!
Ugh. Did they really have to document our every move? And misinterpret everything they saw? Tate hadn’t cheated on me. I hated that she was painted as the villain in our relationship. We were both to blame for what had gone wrong. Acknowledging that was the only way we’d survive as a couple. Except talking about my feelings wasn’t really my forte, so when I rolled over and saw her lying beside me, I felt like someone had pulled my tongue out. If she’d been awake I’m not sure I’d have been able to speak.
I put my phone back on the bedside table and curled back up under the covers. It had been hot the day before, but the temperature had plummeted; it was too cold to do anything other than stay in bed.
Why did strangers feel so entitled to whatever happened between us? Could we get disguises and walk around wearing them so nobody recognized us? No. That was silly. Wasn’t it?
“What are you thinking?” Tate asked, gazing at me with beautiful, sleepy eyes.
Hollywood Parents Page 19
