Crashing Into Love (31 page)

“I hate it when you make sense. But I don’t want to put out your coworkers. I’ll come get you Sunday.”

“You’re filming,” she reminded him.

He scrubbed his hand down his face. “Then I’ll send a driver to pick you up. You’re my responsibility, Fi, not your coworkers’.”

“Actually,” she said just above a whisper as she dragged her index finger down the center of his chest. “I’m my own responsibility. You’re my boyfriend, not my parent.”

He touched his forehead to hers. “I don’t mean it that way, babe. I love you, and I want to make sure you get back safe and sound. And it’s going to suck spending two nights away from you.”

“Just think of how much fun it will be when we’re together again.”

SATURDAY WAS TURNING out to be the longest goddamn day Jake had ever lived through. Every scene had to be reshot several times. He screwed up two stunts because he was too distracted thinking about what Paul had said to him, and to top it all off, he hadn’t slept worth a darn without Fiona by his side. Waking up without her sucked. Going for a run without her was even worse—he didn’t know how he had gone without her for so long. He checked his watch. It was nearing six o’clock, and they still had another scene to shoot. He flagged Trace over.

“Phone.” He motioned with his hand for her to hurry up.

“You could say please.” She slapped it in his palm. “What is wrong with you today? You’re like a caged animal.”

“Long day.” He texted Fiona.
Miss you. Hope your research is going well. Xox.

He handed the phone back to Trace, who was staring at him like he had six heads.

“This is not a long day, and you just had yesterday off. What’s really wrong with you?” She crossed her arms and narrowed her heavily lined eyes. “It’s Fiona.” A smile crept across her lips as a scowl crept across his. “You’re so in love you can’t see straight. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Jake narrowed his eyes. Yeah, he missed her, too damn much to think straight, but what was worse was that he’d seen the excitement in her eyes at the prospect of going over that research. Not that there was anything wrong with that. There wasn’t. He was happy that she was doing something she enjoyed, but hell if it wasn’t an eye-opener. He couldn’t ask Fiona to give up
the biggest opportunity that will ever come her way
. That would be like her asking him to give up the next film. He wouldn’t do that to her. Maybe the old Jake would, but now that he’d had his eyes opened to how selfish he’d become, there was no way he was going back down that road. That was the old Jake. The new and improved Jake—or maybe it would be more accurate to think of himself as the Jake who had reverted to the man he’d once been—would never ask Fiona to do that.

Fuck
.

He was screwed.

He had finally allowed himself to feel again, to love, to admit all that he’d done wrong with his life, and for what? To realize that he couldn’t have the one woman he really wanted unless they had a long-distance relationship or one of them traveled four hours to work each day? What about his filming schedule? He traveled more than half the year. There was no way he could be separated from her for that long. He’d lose his mind.

“Hey. Daydreamer.” Trace tugged at his arm.

He must have zoned out, because he’d had no idea Trace was even talking to him.

She held out his phone, and he read Fiona’s reply.

I miss you, too! I hope your stunts are safe and easy. This research is going to be a huge deal. We’re going to work through dinner and probably late tonight. Can’t wait to see you Sunday! Xox.

“You good? You got your Fiona fix, big boy?” Trace held her hand out for the phone again. “They’re ready for you on set, and Hileberg just announced that he didn’t like the last scene. They’re reshooting. It’s going to be a very long night.”

BY THE TIME Fiona and the guys called it quits, it was after ten o’clock. Paul drove her home, and he agreed to pick her up in the morning to discuss the promotion. Trace had texted her earlier to say that Steven Hileberg was keeping everyone on set to film night scenes and that they’d called Trish in to shoot as well. Fiona felt horrible for not being there for her, even though she didn’t feel as though she contributed much in the way of being an efficient assistant. At least she could have been there for moral support. She’d texted Trish, and of course Trish had said it was no big deal that she wasn’t there.

She dug through her purse for her keys, and when she pulled them out, a flash drive came with them. The string had hooked to one of her keys. She stared at the little black drive for a few seconds before remembering that Jake had given it to her the first day he’d driven her to the set—the morning of the paparazzi ambush. His voice sailed into her mind.
I never realized why these songs appealed to me until last night. Now it kind of makes sense. It’s like the soundtrack to my life, or something like that.

The thrill of anticipation tickled her spine. She unlocked her door and took the stairs two at a time. She plugged the flash drive into her laptop, hardly able to believe she’d forgotten about it for so long. She was nervous and excited to hear the soundtrack of his life. She tossed her purse on the bed and undressed while she listened. The first song was “Hanging by a Moment” by Lifehouse. She moved to the easy and familiar rhythm as she brushed her teeth. The second song took her by surprise—and stung. “Go on…Miss Me” by Gloriana, which mentioned a person being unfaithful. She didn’t like hearing that, especially since neither of them had been unfaithful, but the rest of the song sure rang true. She
had
missed him like crazy and wanted to get back together. He’d said this was the soundtrack to his life. Did that mean that somewhere deep in his heart he’d been hoping they’d get back together, too?

Fiona put on her sleeping shorts and a T-shirt and lay down on her bed, listening to the other songs on his list. “Here Without You” by 3 Doors Down, “Drops of Jupiter” by Train, “You and Me” by Lifehouse, and Alicia Keys’s, “Fallen.” She hated thinking about Jake listening to songs that marked how much she’d hurt him, but she forced herself to listen to the rest of the songs. The next two nearly did her in, “She’s So Mean” by Matchbox 20 and “Please Forgive Me” by Bryan Adams.

It was no wonder he worked so hard to bury his feelings. If the songs were any indication, he’d thought about her even when he didn’t realize it. It bolstered her confidence, and she bolted off the bed.

She knew exactly what she wanted to do, and she knew what she
had
to do.

First things first
.

She pulled her laptop onto the bed and began putting together her own playlist. Darryl Worley’s “I Miss My Friend” and “It’s Not Over” by Daughtry were the first two she added, followed by “If You’re Gone” by Matchbox Twenty, “State of Grace” by Taylor Swift, and “I Try” by Macy Gray. She added song after song. “I Choose You,” by Sara Bareilles and “I Would’ve Loved You Anyway” by Trisha Yearwood were next.

Yeah, I would have
.

She added songs that made her think of Jake, which was nearly every song under the sun, so she tried to choose songs that had specific meanings throughout their relationship. When she added “3 AM” by Matchbox Twenty, she wiped a tear from her cheek. She’d missed him every minute of every day when they were apart. By the time she finished adding songs, it was nearly two o’clock in the morning.

She stood and pulled a box out from under the bed, then sat back on her heels and lifted the lid. Inside was the bear Jake had won her at the County Fair when she was seventeen. Its fur was matted from being tucked under her arm on lonely nights, and its black button eyes looked right through her. She picked it up and stroked it between its ears, then clutched it to her chest, thinking about the conversations she needed to have tomorrow, with Jake and with Paul.

IT WAS SIX o’clock by the time Jake arrived to pick up Fiona in Fresno. Hileberg had called for one last filming session, and when Steve Hileberg said he was filming, there were no negotiations. When she opened the door, Jake’s chest swelled with love. Seeing her in an emerald-green tank top that clung to her breasts, skinny jeans hugging every delicious curve, and something shimmery around her eyes, Jake couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He folded her into his arms, feeling as though they’d been apart for weeks instead of two nights.

“Two nights is too damn long,” he said against her ear before sealing his lips over hers.

He lifted her in his arms, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. This was becoming a natural position for them—and he knew just where it would lead. The staircase was just a few feet away. The couch was even closer, but as he enjoyed the feel of her sweet body against his, the taste of her mouth as they devoured each other, and the warm slide of her tongue, he knew that landing in bed was the wrong thing to do. Paul’s comment had whirred through his mind like a tornado, and his conversation with Trish hadn’t helped. When he’d asked her about Fiona’s job, Trish had raved about how good she was at it, how much her colleagues respected her, and how she thrived on discoveries—hands-on or academic.

He and Fiona needed to talk, and the sooner they did, the better.

They drove toward Los Angeles holding hands and talking about Jake’s filming. He was procrastinating, but hell, why shouldn’t he? Being unselfish wasn’t always fun, and he was about to be as unselfish as a man could get.

“The research the guys are planning could mean major funding for future projects. They’re going to try to bring in a world-renowned scientist who wrote a previous article. They’re disputing his findings, which is going to majorly piss the guy off, I’m sure, but that’s why they want to bring him in. He wrote his article two years ago, and they think if they can get him on board for the project, it will hold even more weight. It’s brilliant, really.”

Jake squeezed her hand. “That’s great, Fi.”

“Yeah, and Paul is so excited about it all. He feels like the attention the group will get from my article will drive their research forward.” Fiona pulled out her cell phone and began texting. “I just remembered something. Sorry. I’m just texting Clark. They’re taking our notes from this weekend and putting them into an outline, and I agreed to be listed on the article, so I want to be sure they use my home email as well as my work email so I don’t miss anything.”

Her excitement was palpable as she concentrated on the text with her lip trapped between her teeth and a smile pulling the edges of her lips up. A long-distance relationship wouldn’t be that bad, would it? They’d still find time for each other. He could always sell his place and buy another that was closer to Fresno.

Commuting would be hell. But he could do it. He couldn’t let Fiona pass up this promotion. Even if it meant risking what they had, he wasn’t about to stand in her way.

He watched Fiona put her phone back into her purse, then pull it out again.

“I forgot to call Trish last night. I want to fill her in.”

“Take your time.”
I’m in no hurry to ruin what we have
.

A few minutes later she called Trish, and Fiona spent the rest of the ride filling her in on her upcoming publication as well as the project the other guys were planning. Her hands flew through the air as she described the project.

“I know!” She laughed and agreed with whatever Trish was saying.

She was still on the phone when they pulled up in front of his house. He used that time to try to figure out how he was going to tell her the very thing he didn’t want to. The longer he stewed, the tighter his muscles corded. He felt like a caged tiger as he paced the front yard, waiting for her to get off the phone—and not wanting her to in equal measure.

He was standing at the edge of the driveway with his back to Fiona when he felt her arms circle his waist from behind and her cheek press against his back.

“I’m sorry, Jake. You drove all the way out to get me in Fresno, and then I spend the whole time either jabbering at you or on the phone.”

He turned in her arms, and the trusting look in her beautiful eyes chipped away at his resolve. He needed to get this over with before he lost his nerve to do the right thing.

“It’s okay.” The gruffness of his tone surprised him. “Fi, I think you should take the promotion.” There. He said it loud, clear, and without any room for misinterpretation. Why, then, was Fiona blinking up at him as if she had no idea what he was talking about and stumbling backward as if she’d been pushed?

“What?” The word came out incredulously.

These were the hardest words he’d ever had to say. Everything he’d never understood about himself, he understood when he was with Fiona. She righted his chaotic world and showed him how to feel again. He wanted her more than he wanted anything else in the world, but he’d spent the last sixteen years taking what he wanted. It was time for him to step back and make sure that Fiona got what
she
wanted. What she deserved.

“I want you to take the promotion. You’ve worked hard for it. You deserve it, and you can’t tell me that you don’t want it.” He clenched his hands into fists by his sides, repressing the urge to tell her he was lying. “We’ll figure out how to navigate a long-distance relationship.”

“A long-distance relationship? Is that what you really want? You don’t mean that.” Her chest rose and fell as her breathing hitched.

“I do, Fiona. I want you to take the promotion.”
Goddamn it.
He was dying a slow and painful death as the lie bored into his chest and sucked the blood from his heart. This must be payback for his years of living selfishly. And it sucked.

Fiona shook her head. “No. No, Jake.” She closed the distance between them, tears welling in her eyes.

Jake looked away, biting back his own devastation.

“No, Jake! I know you, and you don’t mean this. You don’t want to be apart for a week or more at a time. I know you don’t. You don’t want to go on location and know that I’m a thousand miles away for five or six or twelve weeks.”