Page 85 of What's in a Kiss?

Looking at Gram Parsons in his vested glory, Aurora says, “The invitations said to leave all furry bags of shit at home.”

“Well, happy birthday!” I say. “Where’s the bar?”

Aurora looks up at a second-story balcony. I take Jake’s hand and practically jerk him upstairs.

The upper deck is crowded, overwhelming, the sun a spotlight on all the exposed flesh. Gram Parsons snuggles against me, making me want to lie down and snuggle back. When Jake’s arm comes around my waist, I’m grateful.

I spot Fenny through the crowd, talking to Marty, theZombie Hospitalmakeup artist. Fenny gives me a cheery wave. I gesture that Jake and I will head over to her once we get a drink.

But the line for the bar is long. We’ve barely advanced when the boat backs away from the dock. The wind whips Jake’s hair, and I remember this was on my wish list for the trip to Catalina. So I take him in, how sweet he looks, and I kiss him.

The boat rocks us apart as it steers out of the marina, into open ocean. I stumble forward a step, edging into the guy in front of us in line. He turns around, and it’s Michael Jinx—star of the recent action movieThe Luddite... and one of Jake’s celebrity friends in Real Life.

“Sorry, Michael Jinx,” Jake says, self-consciously starstruck.

“No worries,” Michael says, already turning back around.

It seems impossible they don’t know each other here. That Jake is gulping, coming down from the excitement of interacting with a star.

All Jake has in this life is me.

And compared to what I know Jakeshouldhave, I can’t stop asking myself: How am I enough?

“You should introduce yourself,” I say in Jake’s ear, and when he laughs me off, I press. “I feel like you two would befriends. Like you have the same sense of humor.” I thump Jake on the shoulder. “You should invite him to come on the podcast.”

Jake looks at me. “Is that a joke?”

“Or a stroke of genius,” I say.

“He’s here to party,” Jake says under his breath. “Not to be accosted by nobodies.”

“Maybe if you stopped referring to yourself as a nobody, you wouldn’t be one,” I say. “That came out wrong! You’re not a nobody.” My voice is rising to the point where Michael can definitely hear us, whether he wants to or not.

“Okay,” Jake says, “I’m asomebody.” He looks around theatrically, then looks back at me. “Big change!”

Gram Parsons whines, disliking the tone this exchange has taken. Jake takes him from me and pats his head.

“I agree!” I whisper. “You’re just the kind of somebody Michael Jinx would love if given the chance. Believe me. I know these things.”

“Maybe you hit your head harder than we thought the other day,” Jake whispers back. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Think about it. Michael Jinx just did that Luddite movie whose plot hinged on the troubled father-son relationship. It’s the perfect segue for your show. Just ask him. What’s the worst thing that can happen?”

“Hard pass,” Jake says, giving me a look. “New topic: What do you want to drink, if we ever make it to the front of this line?”

“What if fate put you in this endless line,” I push on. “Directly behind your favorite actor, for a reason? What if fate wantsyou to stop wasting your talent by directing traffic jams in palm trees and making obscure podcasts—and startusingit in places likethis, on people who—”

“Who what?” Jake says, squinting at me. “Matter?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Feel free to clarify.” There’s irritation in his eyes. “You didn’t seem to think I was wasting my talent last month when you ordered all that podcasting equipment.”

“Well... I...” I start to say.

Gram Parsons tilts his head, warning me I’m in over my head. I don’t know enough about last month to have this argument. I wasn’t expecting to face off against a version of myself I can’t remember. But why doesn’t Jake want more for himself?

“I don’t get it.” Jake’s voice is rising now. “All it takes is five minutes on a yacht with people whomatter—”