“How are your Mom and Dad?” he asks.
“Good,” I smile. “They still live in Manchester, in the same house.”
“You’re kidding?” he grins.
I shake my head, no. “And my dad’s teaching music now to underprivileged kids.”
“He always was a good man. Is it a charity based organisation he works for?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s it called?”
“Why?”
“Because I want to donate some money to it. If it wasn’t for your dad, I would have never picked up a guitar let alone learned how to play one, and I wouldn’t be where I am right now. I owe him a lot.”
I fill with pride for my dad. He is the best.
“It’s called Tuners for Youths.”
“Cool,” he says. “I’ll make the arrangements tomorrow.”
“My dad will be made up when I tell him.”
“You don’t need to tell him the donation was from me.”
I kink my eyebrow in confusion at him.
“I don’t want him thinking I’m being a flashy bastard.”
“He wouldn’t think that, he’s really proud of you.”
He looks up, surprised. “He is?”
I nod. “He follows your career, like I do. Probably more so – you know how he is about music.”
“I bet he wasn’t proud of the drugs … and women.” His lips turn down at the corners.
I have the urge to reach out and smooth my finger across them, but I don’t, instead I reach out and put my hand on his arm.
I see his eyes go to it, then he lifts them back to mine.
“He was worried about you, like I was. But he’s really proud of everything you’ve achieved. And to be honest, I think he was quite impressed with all the models and actresses you’ve been pictured with,” I laugh, trying to come off as light-hearted, but if anything my own words sting me.
Moving my arm away, I pick my beer up. “I bet your mum’s real proud of you.” I take a swig of my beer.
He shrugs. Glancing down at his beer, he starts to pick at the label. “She’s proud … sure, she just worries a lot – you know.”
“I know, but she’s your mum and it’s to be expected,” I say.
I know Susie feels like she let Jake down over the years. That she should have forced his dad out of their lives. Then what happened to Jake never would’ve happened.
I overheard Susie talking to my mum one day. I never told Jake though.
He shrugs again, and I get the feeling there’s something more, but I don’t press it, and then the waiter appears with our pizza.
After that we just fall into conversation like we’ve never been apart.
We talk school and childhood memories.
He tells me stuff about the band and his label, which bands he has signed to it.
I tell him about my time at university, living with Simone and my job as a music journalist at the magazine.
But mainly we just talk music, like we used to. Recent and old stuff. And Jakes music.
I haven’t spoken to anyone about music in the way I’m speaking to Jake now. Not in all my time at university while studying it, and not even in all the time I’ve worked at the magazine.
It’s how we used to talk about it, with real passion. And to me Jake was and is music, it’s what glued us together, and now it’s like a dam is opening back up and everything Jake is just flowing out of me.
One thing I don’t talk about it is Will. And he doesn’t ask.
I also notice he doesn’t mention Jonny. It must still be so raw for him to talk about.
I also notice he’s only had the one beer all night. I’m glad because he’s driving. I like that he’s being responsible. Because the Jake I’m used to seeing in the news, never appears responsible, despite all his success.
But the more time I spend with him, the more I feel like there are two Jake’s.
The one the world sees, and the one I’m getting to see here. The one I used to know.
I’ve kept light on the drink too. Funny, because earlier I thought I would need it to get me through the night. But not at all.
This is one of the best nights I have had in a long time.
We talk for hours, and when we’re finished, Jake calls Stuart to let him know he needs him to bring the car, then he pays the bill.
“Let me pay my half,” I press, as we walk to the exit.
He laughs. “No Tru. Just call it birthday present number one of twelve.”
“I owe you twelve birthday presents too, remember?”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten. I’ll start collecting on them soon.”
And there it is, that flirty undertone again.
No wonder women are always throwing themselves at him. I’m having a pretty difficult time myself not doing just that.
Jake gestures for me to go first up the stairs.
“You still eat like a dude,” he says from behind me. “But your ass is definitely all woman.”
I gasp.
Pausing, I turn and look at him, agape.
“What?” he feigns innocence, stopping behind me, but I can see the look in his eyes and he’s close, so very close to me. “I told you I’d let you know what I thought of your ass, and I’m telling you it’s perfect. Even better than I remember.”
Eyes back front and I’m up those stairs quick march. My insides turning over with embarrassment and want.