Lying next to him in the dark, knowing Hannah was next door having sex, drove me wild: I wanted to hook up with Nate. My body felt as if it had been zapped by electricity. I finally got some guts, rolled over, and rested my head on his chest. He sucked in a breath and lay still, and my fingers roamed all over his chest, and when I straddled his waist and pressed my mouth to his, he didn’t stop me. He gripped my hips and flipped me over onto my back, his weight heavy between my legs. Excitement rushed through me. Thanks to my courage, we were finally going to make out.

We did, and the next day, I asked him if we were officially dating.

It must’ve been the beer he’d been drinking on the beach, or maybe it was just Hannah and her animal noises, because he laid it all out for me: “I liked hooking up last night, but we can’t have a relationship because of the band.”

The rejection hurt like nothing I’d ever felt. But over the next few months, we kept fooling around anyway. But I really thought we would become more one day. He said the reason we couldn’t be together was the band; I figured he would eventually want to take the risk. Because I was worth it. I should’ve known better. If he had really wanted me, he wouldn’t have let being in a band together stop him. I hate that I went down on him—slept with him—when he never had any intention of making things serious.

I examine a pair of blue boots. “How about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I don’t date,” Jesse replies. “My last girlfriend? Turned out she was selling secrets about me to the tabloids.”

“I remember hearing about that last year.”

Rumor had it Jesse was dating Stacey Oliver, the daughter of his drummer, and she told a reporter that Jesse was obsessed with doing freaky things in bed. The story was on the cover of every magazine down at the Quick Pick.

When Jesse found out Stacey had betrayed him, he fired his drummer. Walked right into his studio and told him to get the hell out. And then Stacey showed up outside Omni, crying for Jesse to give her dad his job back, and security made her leave. An article detailing the drama filled the front page of the Tennessean.

“She sounds like an idiot too,” I say. “Did you get in trouble with Mr. Logan or your record company for all those rumors?”

“Some major stores threatened to drop my records because they didn’t like what Stacey said about me. The stores said I need a clean image, considering my audience is mostly teen girls.”

“Oh, I thought your audience was the old lady convention from lunch.”

Jesse gives me a look. “Mark said any publicity is good publicity, but my parents weren’t happy. The story embarrassed them in front of their church friends…and my dad’s boss at his accounting firm wasn’t happy. They’re all about ‘family values.’” Jesse makes finger quotes. “And honestly, I was pretty embarrassed myself. I’m glad my pa wasn’t around for it…”

“But it wasn’t true, was it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he flirts, and I playfully slap his hand. “Of course it’s not true. I want what every normal guy wants in bed.”

“Oh.” I feel my face burning hot. I can’t help but wonder what normal guys want in bed. I’ve only done it the one time with Nate. And he finished before the song we were listening to was over. He didn’t cuddle with me or tell me how nice I felt; he just put his clothes back on and asked if I wanted a snack.

When he cut things off between us last week, I can only assume it was because I wasn’t what he wanted.

I spend a lot of time thinking about what great sex with a guy must be like. Nate never gave me goose bumps. Maybe I should’ve paid more attention to my body when it was trying to tell me it wasn’t getting what it needed from him. But when all your friends are hooking up, you want to do it too, to be normal, even if it doesn’t feel exactly right.

“So you haven’t dated since then?” I ask.

“I trusted Stacey, and then it turned out I couldn’t. I thought I could trust my parents too.”

“What do you mean?”

He pulls in a deep breath. “They were excited when I first started out in the business. They wanted me to be a Christian singer, but that just wasn’t me. I thought they’d support me no matter what.”

“Go on.”

“Mark said that I’d be a lot more famous and make more money if I went mainstream, and honestly, I wanted to sing about fishing and family, not God. My parents were fine when I was singing about horses and how much I love Tennessee, but they hated when I started writing about girls a couple of years ago. It was like they’d rather I fail than embarrass them in front of my dad’s boss and their church friends. They stopped wanting to spend time with me and started making excuses…” He taps his finger on a pointy spur. It looks painful. “If the music I perform is going to continue to create this rift between me and my parents, then I need to give it up.”