Can't Get Over You (Fortune's Island, Book 2)

by Shirley Jump

  He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then leaned toward the microphone. His hands found the chords, and as the music flowed, Zach began to sing. “I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Too many to count. But letting you go…that was the biggest mistake of all. And now my songs have lost their music, my notes have lost their sound, because I don’t have you.”

  Her mother squeezed her hand. “He loves you, Jillian.”

  “It’s just a song, Mom. Just a song.” She couldn’t pay for a wedding with a song. Couldn’t get a mortgage with a song. Couldn’t depend on anything when it was based on a song. But her throat was tight and her eyes burned and her heart was a trembling, fragile thing in her chest as Zach sang. “I have to get out of here.”

  She spun on her heel and rushed to the kitchen, cutting through the small room and out the side door that led to the deck. The sun had set, and the world outside was deep purple, but she could still see the ocean, whooshing in and out, whispering against the sand. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and lightning cracked over the Atlantic. There was a storm rolling in and chances were good it would be here before the reception was over.

  Zach kept on singing. She tried not to listen, but the words came through the open windows and caught in the warm evening air. Out here, alone on the deck, Zach’s song seemed to wrap around her heart. She closed her eyes and gripped the railing, let the words come, let her heart open one more time.

  “You are my song, and I can’t sing it without you,” he crooned. “My songs have lost their music, my notes have lost their sound, because I don’t have you.”

  How she wanted to believe him, wanted to open that door again. But he was still living the life he had before—barely making a living, driving a car he couldn’t afford, and hanging his hat on a dream that may never come true.

  And she would be a fool to let a few heartfelt lyrics convince her otherwise.

  # # #

  Zach finished singing “Come Back to Me” to a crowd of people that included everyone but the woman he had written the song for. Jillian had left the room after the first verse, and had yet to return. He’d struggled to keep on singing, trying to get past the burning lump of disappointment in his throat.

  What had he expected? That he could perform a single song and it would change everything?

  Well, yeah.

  Life wasn’t a movie, he reminded himself. Relationships in real life were complicated things that didn’t resolve that easily.

  He set his guitar in the stand to his right. “Let’s take five, guys.”

  Duff nodded, then hooked up his iPod to the sound system to play some music while the band was on a break. AJ and Ian beelined for the bar, where a few young single women were congregating around the wine.

  Duff put a hand on Zach’s shoulder as they walked toward the deck. “Just because she went outside doesn’t mean she wasn’t listening.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Or maybe I just made a giant fool out of myself for nothing.” Zach cursed. “Maybe it’s time I let her go. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to convince Jillian I’m serious.”

  “Maybe…” Duff put up his hands and gave Zach a don’t-shoot-me look, “the one you need to convince is yourself.”

  “What do you mean? Of course I’m serious about Jillian.”

  They paused beside the door that led outside. “When I decided I wanted to marry Lori, the first thing I did was act like a man who wanted to get married,” Duff said. “Remember that crappy futon I was sleeping on?”

  “That one you found on the side of the road?”

  “Yeah. The kind that screams single guy with no taste or concern for his future spinal health.” Duff grinned. “I got rid of that and got a real bed. Stopped eating off of the back of the pizza box. Opened a savings account. In other words, I grew up. Not all the way, ’cause, you know, I’m still in a band, hoping to strike it rich. But I grew up enough to show myself I was serious about settling down with her. It’s like with the band. We can meet in my garage and hammer out a few tunes, get the pricy equipment and sport the grungy look. But it isn’t until we start knocking on doors, playing every single gig we can get our hands on, create a website and start Tweeting about it, that we prove to ourselves that we’re serious. That’s when it becomes a career, not just a pipedream.”

  Duff was right. How many musicians had Zach met over the years, who never got out of their basements? Who talked about wanting to make it a real job, but never treated it as such? Zach had gotten serious about his career, and proven it, but had he done that with his personal life?

  And then he’d gone and shut Jillian out of his music, out of everything. At the time, he’d told himself it was because he thought she wasn’t interested. But was it really because he was trying to avoid talking about the changes he needed to make? The changes that would allow him to truly be with her and still have his dream? “Thanks, Duff.”

  Duff clapped him on the shoulder again. “Anytime, man.”

  Zach headed outside, skirting around the building until he reached the corner where he knew Jillian had gone. She was leaning against the railing, looking out over the water. A light breeze danced through her hair, and ruffled the edges of her coral dress.

  The dress flattered her curves, and offset the shape of her calves, the divot of her waist. He wanted to rest his hands in that concave space and hold her tight against his chest. He missed those simple things—holding her tight on a stormy night, sharing a bag of popcorn with her while they surfed Netflix, walking the beach and searching for interesting shells. Those were the holes Jillian had left in his life, the ones he was writing about in his song.

  That other guy hadn’t come to the wedding. Zach didn’t know if it was because Jillian hadn’t asked him, or if they’d broken up or what, but he was damned glad to not see Mr. Perfect hanging an arm around Jillian right now. Really damned glad.

  “Jillian?”

  She didn’t turn, didn’t move. “I don’t want to talk right now, Zach.”

  That was part of the problem, he suspected. They’d gone along for years, dating, making love, joking, but never really talking. It was only after they had broken up that all the words they hadn’t said began to come out. Maybe it was because they had met when they were very young, not quite mature enough to handle a real relationship. Or maybe they had just gotten into a comfortable rut that neither of them wanted to disrupt. “Well, I’m tired of us not talking. I’m also tired of us pretending there’s nothing between us anymore.”

  “There isn’t. We should just move on and forget—”

  He moved into place beside her. He inhaled the scent of her perfume, mixed with the salty tang of the ocean air. If there was ever a scent he would associate with Jillian it was this—those floral notes, intermingled with the scent of the ocean. “Forget the other night? Forgive me, but I thing that proved we still have feelings for each other.”

  “Because we slept together? That doesn’t prove anything.” Her lips pursed, her clasped hands tightened. “And, at the end of that, after we had sex, that’s when I found out you’d been lying to me for years.”

  “And you’d been lying to me.” He shook his head. “Maybe that was our whole problem, Jillian. Neither of us were ever completely honest and open. We never showed all our cards.”

  “I…” Her voice trailed off. She thought for a moment, then finally conceded his point with a nod. “You’re right. We didn’t. I guess I was afraid.”

  He scoffed. Why hadn’t they had these conversations earlier? Maybe if they had, they could have saved their relationship before it got to this point. “Join the club. I was afraid if I told you the truth about Keith, I’d lose you.” He rested his hand on the railing, inches away from hers. He ached, literally ached, to touch her again. “Turns out, I lost you anyway.”

  Implied in that was the question—have I lost you for good? But he didn’t ask that because he didn’t want to hear her say yes. He wanted to go on thinking they still had a chance.
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  “And I was afraid if I told you that I wanted a career in music, you’d think…” She let out a breath, shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “Think what?”

  “That you’d push me to do it. I mean, here I am, telling you all the time that you need to be sensible and smart and get a real job, and at the same time, I’m dreaming about people hearing my songs. I know you, Zach. If I told you about that, you’d say go for it. And how could I do that, when I was too afraid to let you go for it? Because if I really supported you, I wouldn’t have cared about the car or the job or the health benefits. I would have just said those words.”

  “You were being sensible, Jillian. Lord knows one of us needed to be.” He brushed an errant tendril off her face and tucked it behind her ear. His touch lingered just a moment too long, because he couldn’t seem to break away from her. “Of course I would have supported you. I do now. I think it’s awesome that you’re doing your own music. I’d love to hear you sing.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t do that in front of people. I just…what if they don’t like my voice? What if I forget the lyrics?”

  “Those are all my same worries every time I take the stage. Sometimes you just have to do it.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “Besides, how can you be scared, when you are the bravest woman I know?”

  “You keep saying that, and what did I do when I got scared about us?” She let out a gust. “I walked away.”

  Zach noticed a storm brewing off shore was beginning to move closer. The wind had picked up and the sporadic thunder was beginning to rumble more and more regularly. It was the perfect background to the rumblings between them, to all the issues that had long been buried, as though ignoring them would keep them from arising. But all it had done was make the ground beneath Jillian and Zach too shaky to stand upon.

  “No. You gave me a wakeup call. One I really needed.” he said. “You didn’t walk away. You walked toward what you wanted. What you needed. You enrolled in college, all by yourself, without even telling anyone. That takes guts. Everything you do, Jillian, is brave and strong. And smart.”

  “Not everything.” She turned to him now, and he could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. The raw honesty, mixed with fear and regret. “I’m scared as hell of falling for you again so, instead of taking a chance, I just keep putting up this wall.”

  He knew that feeling. It was what had paralyzed him in those three months after they broke up. He’d been so afraid that if he truly tried to get her back, he’d find out that there was nothing there to restore.

  But then he’d seen her that day in the rain, stubborn and mad and determined not to get in his car, and he’d known, somewhere deep inside of him, that she still loved him. He’d seen it in her eyes, in the way she tried to pretend that she didn’t need him or want him. They may have had their secrets over the years, but he knew Jillian, knew her well. Maybe even better than he knew himself.

  He cupped her cheek, and traced the curve of her face with his thumb. “Then take that chance with me. Like I said in my song, nothing is the same without you, JillyBean.”

  She leaned into his touch, and covered the back of his hand with her own. “I don’t know, Zach. I don’t want to go back to where we were.”

  “We won’t. I promise you.” He was different now, smarter, more mature, more ready for all the things that Duff had and Zach wanted. Plus, Zach knew if he let their relationship go back to where it was, he would end up losing Jillian all over again. “Trust me.”

  “I come back early, and this is what I find?”

  Zach turned at the angry deep voice behind them. The guy Jillian had been dating was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, glowering at them.

  “Ethan!” Jillian broke away from Zach and put a good two feet of distance between them. The storm’s rumbles grew louder, the thunder more pronounced. A lightning strike lit up the night sky for a moment. “I…I didn’t think you were coming back until tomorrow night.”

  “Obviously.” He nodded toward Zach. “Is there something you want to tell me, Jillian?”

  “No, Ethan, it’s nothing. Really.”

  The other guy stepped forward, proffering his hand, although his face held no trace of friendliness. “Ethan Reynolds. I figure it’s about time you knew my name.”

  Zach’s stomach curled in against him. Just that morning, he’d had a confirmation email from the label, telling them to expect an Ethan Reynolds to come see the band play.

  Ethan Reynolds, the guy that Zach had hit in the jaw. The same guy who was dating Jillian, and had just caught Zach with her. If there was ever a way to ruin an audition, Zach had just done it.

  Duff poked his head outside. “Zach, we gotta get back from break.”

  Saved by the bell. “I’ll talk to you later, Jillian.”

  She only shook her head and, as Zach walked back inside the restaurant, he had a feeling he had just lost his one last chance to get Jillian back. In fact, he had probably just lost everything that mattered to him in the space of a few minutes. But it was losing Jillian that hurt the most.

  # # #

  Ethan was smoldering.

  That was the perfect word for it, Jillian thought. She couldn’t really blame him, but then again, they didn’t have an exclusive relationship or anything like that. Clearly, Ethan thought there was more between them than she did. “We only went out a few times, Ethan. You don’t get to dictate who I spend time with. And I wasn’t doing anything with Zach. We were just talking.”

  “And touching.”

  True. But not the kind of touching they’d been doing the other night. She didn’t share that with Ethan, or the fact that whenever Zach brushed up against her or kissed her, it sent her mind spiraling and her hormones racing. That just leaning into his palm had made her heart beat faster, and made her crave more. Much, much more. “Zach was touching my face, nothing more. It’s not like we were out here having sex.”

  Ethan arched a brow. “Are you? Having sex with him?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  He let out a chuff. “None of my business? You’re my girlfriend, Jillian. I’d say it’s plenty of my business.”

  “I’m not your girlfriend. We dated a few times. And to be honest…” Oh crap, maybe she shouldn’t say this, but if she didn’t, she’d be leading him on. She was tired of not being honest with herself or the people in her life. It wasn’t going to work with Ethan, no matter how many points he scored in the perfect man category. She needed that something more—that indefinable zing she still had with Zach. “To be honest, there just isn’t any chemistry there for me. You are a great guy, Ethan, you really are. But I just don’t feel the way about you—”

  “That you feel about him.” Ethan nodded toward the door that Zach had just gone through.

  She sighed. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”

  Zach was right. She kept pretending there was nothing between them when, in reality, there was a lot left in that space she’d created three months ago.

  The storm began to pound, and the wind picked up until it was skating across the deck and making the empty coconuts hanging between the outdoor lights sound a hollow clip-clop in the air.

  “I wish you well with him, then.” Ethan’s voice was flat and cold. He turned on his heel, started to walk away, then pivoted back. He drew himself up into a stiff, businesslike demeanor. “I meant what I said about the record contract. That was a real offer, not at all contingent on whether we are dating. If you’re interested in working with me on your music career, meet me here on Sunday at two.”

  “I’ll think about it. Thank you.” She crossed to him and put a hand on his arm. “I truly am sorry, Ethan. You’re amazing, you really are.”

  “But just not amazing enough for you.” He gave her one short nod, then he turned and was gone.

  As he left, the storm opened up above The Love Shack. Rain came down in sheets, pounding against the roof, the deck, drenching everything in seco
nds. Jillian lingered in the stormy air, protected by the roof above her, wishing she could wash away all these impossible choices as easily as Mother Nature was washing the sand and leaves off the deck.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Zach found twelve million other things to do in the space of time between Friday night and Sunday afternoon—besides tell the guys that the record producer who was coming to hear them play was the same guy Zach had decked.

  The band hauled the equipment into The Love Shack an hour earlier than they had to, taking special care during the sound checks and setup to be sure everything was perfectly acoustically balanced. They ran through snippets of a couple of songs, practicing the set they were planning on performing this afternoon.

  When they were done, Duff came over to Zach. “I think we should open strong,” he said. “Lead with ‘You Are The Everything,’ then move into the cover songs.”

  Singing that song would be painful, but maybe those emotions would come through and add that little extra something to the song. What was the old saying about suffering for your art? That was what Zach felt like he was doing every time he sang that song—the first he’d ever written for Jillian. “Yeah, okay.”

  “You ready?” Duff asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Zach attempted a grin, but it fell flat. His gut was churning, and he already felt like he couldn’t breathe—and Ethan hadn’t even shown up yet.

  Duff’s gaze narrowed. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Man, this is my future on the line, too. So don’t hold out.”

  Zach drew in a deep breath. “I may or may not have…punched Ethan Reynolds in the face.”

  Duff stepped back and let out a long string of curses. “You what? Why the hell would you do that?”

  “I didn’t know it was that Ethan Reynolds. I didn’t know his name at all. I only knew he was the guy kissing Jillian. They were out on a date last week and I reacted before I thought.” Zach let out a long breath. He had a million regrets, a million things he wished he could do over, and that punch was right at the top of the list. “I’m sorry, Duff. I had no idea who he was.”