Yes & I Love You (Say Everything #1) - Roni Loren Page 0,44

and took a long pull from his beer, his mind spinning and his gaze scanning the luxury apartment. “I can’t believe I’m going to be living in a fucking penthouse and trying to start a business. Life is weird.”

“Yeah, this place doesn’t suck.” Fitz grinned as he settled onto the couch and hooked his ankle over his knee, looking every bit the confident businessman. “I got it mainly because it reminded me of that apartment in that old Tom Hanks movie Big.”

“Huh.” Jasper looked around at the open space, remembering the movie. “Yeah, I can see the resemblance. No trampoline though.”

“That could be arranged,” Fitz said, no jest in his tone. “I loved that movie when I was a kid. The thought that I could just instantly be grown up and make my own decisions, not have to deal with another foster home or caseworker. That sounded like living the dream.”

Jasper met his gaze, seeing the kid Fitz used to be for a brief second in his mind’s eye. Scrawny. Scattered. No one would’ve suspected that hard-to-corral, too-loud boy could’ve landed in this spot. “I’m glad you finally got here, man.”

“Me too. But don’t get too sentimental.” Fitz ran a hand over his close-cropped black hair and stretched his arm out over the back of the couch. “Let’s be real. I also got this place to impress women.”

Jasper snorted and took a seat in the armchair across from him. “Of course. Does it work?”

“What do you think?” Fitz’s smile turned sly. “Feel free to test out its magical powers for yourself. Our rooms are on opposite sides of the apartment. You’ll have all the privacy you could want if you bring someone home.”

Jasper stretched his neck from side to side, tension building at the thought of getting involved with anyone again. “Thanks, but I don’t see that happening. I’ve got too much on my plate right now to worry about dating or any kind of social life outside of work. Plus, this”—he flicked his hand toward the wall of windows—“would be false advertising. You don’t want a show a woman a caviar lifestyle and then break it to her that you’re a coffee-pouring starving artist.”

He’d learned that with Kenzie. He could almost pinpoint the moment when her view of him shifted from seeing him as a passionate, ambitious performer to someone who was weighing her down. The only difference between hot, up-and-coming star and guy who can’t pay his bills was a break in show business. But the gap was a big one. They’d fallen on different sides of the chasm.

Fitz snorted. “True, but you won’t be that for much longer. Give it a little time, sprinkle in a little of my networking magic, and you’ll be owner of the hippest new theater in town before you know it. All the ladies will want a ticket to your show.”

Jasper rolled his eyes. “I’m glad you’re so optimistic.”

Fitz shrugged. “After what we went through as kids, I learned you have to be your own cheering squad. The world doesn’t want to believe that you can be special—that the kid with no family support and all kinds of issues can actually make shit happen. But look where I’ve landed. Screw all that negative noise. If you don’t believe you can do it, how the hell will you convince other people you can? Investors are going to want to see confidence.” He leaned forward, brow cocked. “So why not you, Jasper? Why the fuck can’t you have your own theater?”

Jasper stared at him. “I don’t know. It’s just—”

“Are you a shitty actor?” he asked, tone full of challenge.

Jasper’s teeth clenched. “No.”

“Does your group suck?”

“Of course not.”

Fitz leaned back as if pleased with himself. “Then there you go. Why not you? Why not now?”

Jasper let out a breath, the condensation rolling down the side of his beer bottle as he gripped it hard. Fitz was right. Why not him? It’s not like someone was going to give him official permission or a stamp of approval. Hell, even his family, who were more supportive than most artists could hope for, were losing faith in him. If he wanted this kind of opportunity, he was going to have to take it, fight for it, believe he was the best damn person to make it happen. Buy the story he was selling. He was going to have to treat this whole venture like he did improv. Onstage, in a scene, you couldn’t waffle. You had to fully