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I look around the luxurious room and run a hand along the Egyptian cotton duvet as I dump myself down on the bed.

I can’t stay here and live off Jack’s hospitality. These were decisions I made, and I can’t expect other people to pick up my pieces.

Trying to sob in silence, I sit up and reach over to the nightstand, uplugging my phone charger and stuffing it into the suitcase at the foot of my—Jack’s—bed.

A soft knock stops me in my tracks. “Kendra?”

“Just give me a minute, okay?” I ask Jack in an unsteady voice.

“Are you dressed?”

“What?” I ask, a laugh threatening to break through the sobs.

A long sigh filters through the door. “Are you decent?”

“Yeah,” I answer.

Jack’s face is full of concern when he opens the bedroom door and sets his eyes on me. He then looks to my opened suitcase. “Where are you going?”

I shove my long hair behind my ears. “I can’t stay here. I’m taking advantage of you.”

“You aren’t.”

“I am,” I counter, standing from the bed and heading for the dresser next to Jack.

In a hurry, I pull the drawer open, and Jack reaches out, placing his big hand over mine as I grip the handle in my palm. Anything to prevent the tears from flowing freely again.

“Talk to me, Kendra.” His voice is soft and understanding, like a warm blanket cushioning my troubles. “Did Tyler say something?”

“No,” I reply on a deep breath. “I just think my bullshit bucket might be at full capacity.”

“Bullshit bucket? That’s one I haven’t heard before.”

I press my lips together, my mood switching from desperate to kind of amused. “Can you not for just a second?”

“Not what?”

His hand is still resting over mine as I look up at him, and my attention snags on the popped dimple in his cheek.

“Not make me smile when all I want to do is throw my clothes around the room and yell into one of your unnecessary Egyptian thread pillows.”

His smile grows wider, and his blue eyes sparkle with mischief. “But you have to admit, Hart. Life’s more fun when you smile.”

“I’m not preventing you from smiling all you want,” I huff, trying to maintain my mood.

It happens before either of us can register it—his other hand reaching up and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

“My original statement is still valid. Life is more fun whenyousmile.”

A different kind of silence from the one shared with Tyler falls between us. One I don’t want to bring to an abrupt end.

“He’s sleeping with other people,” I say. “I guess he can do what he wants. But what really irked me was, minutes earlier, he asked me to attend NYPAG with him. I told him no because the last thing I want is to be on his arm, as a friend or otherwise.”

I puff out a frustrated laugh, and Jack drops his hand from over mine.

“But I can picture it now—me standing alone and next to the bar while he carries on with some random girl he’s been boning. All while at a gala for a city I never wanted to be in.” My voice grows increasingly harsh as frustration overtakes me. “I should be playing in London right now.”

As the tears start to build, I quickly swipe underneath my eye.