by C. M. Owens
She goes back to bouncing.
“I’m ready,” I tell them, taking one last look in the mirror and trying not to let my parents’ random reconciliation irk me the way it is.
***
I can’t go to lunch with him. What was I thinking?
I’ll just have to find a reason to cancel, because it’s stupid to even consider being alone with him. I haven’t even started the healing process yet, so this is definitely not a step in the right direction.
In fact, I’m so miserable that I can’t even pretend to have fun in the middle of everyone around me who is having fun.
Nothing has changed. Jax has already proven I’m nothing special to him, even though I really wish…
Not doing this to myself. Nope. Not going to keep entertaining my wishy-washy emotions tonight.
Silk is packed, and I’m on my third glass of… something strong. I don’t know. Ruby is trying to keep me from focusing on the fact this place is jammed with people, so she’s getting me drunk. Or attempting to. I’m not quite there yet.
Britt is a hellcat on the dance floor, and if she didn’t have an overprotective Sterling entourage that kept men at bay with one warning glower, she’d be getting dragged out of here by some of the men who have been drooling all night.
My hot pink shirt shows just enough of my stomach off to be sexy. I let loose, moving with the music, and forgetting all about the fact my life lately sucks.
And the fact my parents are back together.
It doesn’t make sense. They’ve spent so many years apart—almost our entire lives—yet now they’re picking up where they left off?
Because I’m with Ruby, no guy is brave enough to try to dance with us. She’s a bit of a bitch when she wants to be. All the tats and piercings work with her sneer when she turns on her “fuck off” attitude. I’m grateful for it tonight.
I start laughing when I hear “Shake That Ass Bitch” start blaring over the speakers for the third time since we’ve been here. Corbin curses Ruby while stalking onto the dancefloor—already shirtless—and begins to freaking twerk.
Long story.
Well, not really a long story. It’s a triple dare. That’s a long story.
While he shakes his ass like his life depends on it, Maverick comes through with a train following behind him like he’s the conductor, and they start spinning a circle around Corbin. Poor Corbin.
I almost feel sorry for him. Especially when Ruby howls like he’s the full moon, and numerous others howl at him too.
And I thought I was weird.
The song finally ends, and Ruby goes to kiss Corbin’s scowling face. My eyes move over to the door as if gravity demands it, and my entire body tenses when I see who is walking in.
Dustin and Jax slap hands with some guys near the bar, and I watch, no longer dancing, as Jax moves toward a table over to the side where Viv and a few girls are waiting with Cody.
Jax’s long, jean-clad legs eat up the distance with smooth grace, and women do a double take as he walks by. His black T-shirt hugs him in just the right way, and he’s wearing a black hat backwards that for some reason only makes him sexier.
He props up on the high table instead of sitting down, leaning against it with his back to me, and I continue to watch as one of the girls moves to the chair beside him.
He looks over at her briefly before returning his attention to his sister. Dustin joins them with two beers in his hands, handing one to Jax, while Cody sits with his arm idly around one of the girls.
Dustin sidles up next to Viv and tosses his arm around her chair while sitting down beside her. Jax continues to keep his back to me, while the girl beside him starts tracing the tattoo down his arm with her fingertips.
Jealousy has a distinct and bitter taste, and I almost feel like I need to wash my mouth out. So, I chug the rest of my glass of whatever I’m drinking, ignoring the strong burn.
Ruby walks over with a fresh glass, as though she has perfect timing, and follows my gaze to the table where Jax is reaching over—with the arm the girl was touching—and handing his phone to Dustin for some reason. A passing waitress grabs my empty glass, while I start drinking down the new glass Ruby brought me.
The girl is practically pushing herself against him now.
“He’s not flirting with her,” Ruby says, nudging me in the side with her elbow.
“Doesn’t matter,” I lie, forcing a smile. “We’re not together,” I remind her. Well, it’s more to remind myself than her.
“It’s clear that she’s into him but he’s not into her.”
It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.
Being the childish, jealous brat I am in the moment, I slip my phone out of my purse that is hanging across me, and send him a text.
ME: Can’t do lunch tomorrow. You’re free now.
Dustin’s smile drops, and he frowns while handing Jax his phone back. I continue watching as he reads the text, waiting to see what happens when he realizes he’s free to do whatever he wants to do.
I can’t see his face, but he does send me a text back, while the girl presses closer, looking over at his phone to see what he’s texting.
JAX: Don’t want to be free, so I’ll see you at eleven. I have a ‘no cancellation’ policy.
Damn him. He’s texting me like it’s not a big deal that some other girl is pressed against his side.
ME: I was wrong about being friends.
Viv looks across the table about the time I press send, and her eyes collide with mine despite the throngs of people all around me. Her smile wavers, and her eyes flick from Jax to the girl who is glued against his side back to me.
I only break eye contact when my phone buzzes again.
JAX: Still picking you up. I’ll change your mind. I’m a damn good friend to have.
Unable to help myself, I blow out a breath and send the last text to him that I ever will.
ME: No. We can’t be friends.
I watch as his shoulders tense, and he subtly pushes the girl off him before pulling his hat off and tossing it to the table. When he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, my eyes drift back to Viv, who is still watching me with an expressionless face.
Just that small bit of pain I feel from seeing someone else touch him… That’s enough to remind me what it’s like to be crushed by him.
“Let’s dance,” Ruby says as I toss my phone back in my purse.
“I can’t. I need to get out of here,” I tell her, trying not to cry in the middle of the club.
She frowns, but she nods in understanding. Then her eyes widen and move over my shoulder, which has a knot tightening in my stomach.
Damn it.
“So you’re going to text me instead of just coming to talk to me?” he says dangerously close to my ear as his arms slide around my waist and tug me until my back is flush against his front.
“Jax!” Maverick calls as he sifts through the crowd with a girl perched on his arm.
I’m not sure what Jax does, because he’s behind me, but Maverick grins and keeps walking. Jax starts moving my body to the music, still holding onto me. I’m too stunned to move.
Viv sold me out.
“Well?” he asks, moving my hair to the side and letting his breath whisper across my skin, an act that makes standing a little more difficult. But he holds me up.
“Looked like you were busy,” I tell him, having to speak louder than him, since I’m not right next to his ear and the music is booming. That bitter taste creeps back into my mouth, and I start drinking my almost forgotten drink.
His hands grip my sides tighter, and he nips my neck with his teeth. I’m glad he’s holding me up, because my knees try to give out.
Ruby freaking abandons me after standing there awkwardly for several minutes, and Jax’s grip doesn’t ease.
“So you got jealous and decided to just end our new friendship?” he asks, sounding more amused than anything, which I really don’t appreciat
e.
“We’re not friends, so let’s stop pretending we are,” I tell him, even though it’s painful to say it.
The pain is a brutal reminder of why I can’t dive right back into the pool of misery.
“Fuck this,” he says before spinning me around and crushing his lips to mine.
I jerk back instead of letting the sizzle of the connection meld me to him, and I glare at him.
He still looks amused. Bastard.
“You had no problem texting me while she was pressed up against you.” Do I sound like a whiny teen girl? Don’t care.
“Oh? Didn’t know I had to have a problem, friend. But in case you didn’t notice, I wasn’t even the slightest bit interested.”
I sound like a lunatic, because I’m telling my ex I’m pissed at him for texting me while another girl pawed at him, after telling him I can’t be with him as a friend. I’ve officially stepped over the acceptable line of crazy.
“I have to get out of here,” I mumble, knowing he can’t hear that.
After abandoning what’s left of my drink on a nearby table, I start pushing through the crowd, hoping against all odds that he doesn’t follow me.
Just as I reach the outside, all hopes are doused, because one arm comes around my waist, lifting me off the ground, and hauling me against his side.
“You’ve been drinking,” he says, acting as though that gives him a reason to manhandle me.
“So what?” I growl, struggling in vain because his one arm is stronger than my entire body.
His muscles are not that big, but apparently they hold a lot of power. Unyielding asshole.
“Friends don’t let friends drive drunk,” he quips, sounding overly chipper as he continues to carry me.
“I didn’t drive, jerk. I’m also not drunk. Put me down! There are plenty of cabs. You’ve been drinking too.”
“I only had a few sips of beer, and I’m driving my friend home.”
I’m ready to claw his eyes out when he pulls out his keys, unlocks the door, and tosses me down to his seat without any gentleness. Then he points at me.
“If you try to get out, I will chase you down, toss you over my shoulder and cause one hell of an embarrassing scene when I carry you all the way back to your apartment like that. Understand?”
I’m already warm from the alcohol, but I’m burning up because I’m furious with him. And I feel like an idiot.
He shuts the door after winking at me, and he walks around and gets in on the driver’s side. He revs the engine of the his Mustang loudly as he backs out of the parking place, then gasses it and slings out onto the street.
“Sheesh! Are you sure you’re not drunk?” I hiss, putting my seatbelt on quickly.
“Not even a little. Are you really not drunk?”
My fury has mostly burned up all the alcohol, but I wasn’t drunk before then.
“I’m just buzzed enough to feel really pissed without having a mental break, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He flinches like I’ve struck him, and I turn to glare out the window.
“Why are you so damn stubborn?” he groans, cutting the wheel.
We’re not going toward my apartment.
“Wrong way,” I tell him, cutting my eyes toward him.
He hits a bump too hard, and it jars me while jingling his keys. Inadvertently, my eyes drop to where they’re hanging from the ignition, and my heart sinks to my toes.
All of his keychains are gone… except for the one I gave him. It’s all alone, without any of his other memories, as though that one keychain holds the only memory he wants.
As though it’s that special…
Maybe I am drunk, because that can’t be right.
“We’re going to my place to talk, because I’m sick of this. I gave you time; I gave you space; I gave you friendship… Now I’m going to take what I want back. And that’s you. Considering you’re berating me about some chick showing me attention that I didn’t reciprocate, I think it’s safe to say you still want me too, but you’re too fucking stubborn to take me back.”
My heart flips a little, still reeling from the keychain sighting that he hasn’t seen me notice.
“We haven’t really been friends, considering I’ve only gone to a couple of yoga classes in your gym and nothing else.”
He bristles beside me, and a small smile tugs at my lips as I watch him. He must have put his hat back on before finding me in the club, and I watch as he adjusts it like it’s an angry reflex.
The tables have turned. Now I’m more amused than him, and he’s all pissed off.
“Being friends with you is fucking impossible,” he finally admits in a quiet, surly tone.
I lose the battle with my smile, but he doesn’t notice. He’s still flying down the street and paying all of his attention to the road in front of us as he weaves in and out of traffic like he’s in a hurry.
His forearms are flexed as he grips the wheel too tightly, and his jaw is set. He wheels into the parking lot, and he hops out as a valet comes to take his keys. He grabs a spare set from his console instead of handing him the keys he’s using, and I notice there aren’t any keychains on that one at all.
He pushes his keys into his pocket—the ones that have my keychain on them—and climbs out. Another valet opens my door, but Jax is there, grabbing my hand and helping me out before the guy can offer to.
It takes me a second to realize this isn’t the same apartment building.
“You moved?” I ask, confused.
He doesn’t answer as he pulls me behind him, and we get on the elevator where he stabs a button for the fifteenth floor over and over.
I smile, realizing we’re on the same floor in different apartment buildings.
Elevator music sucks, especially when you’re trapped on an elevator with a brooding man who has just essentially kidnapped you but now can’t look you in the eye.
Why am I smiling then? I don’t know. That crazy scale tipped a long time ago.
He pulls me off the elevator and guides me down a few doors until we reach his apartment. The setup is similar to mine—in the hallway. When we walk in, I notice he has completely new furniture than the last time, even though I didn’t take much inventory that day, and I haven’t been to his apartment since.
“New furniture and a new apartment?” I ask him.
Still, he continues to brood in silence, while shutting the door and walking into the kitchen to grab himself a drink—a strong drink, because that’s liquor he’s pouring in a glass. Apparently he needs more than those few sips of beer to talk to me.
I take in the new, black leather furniture, the matching end tables, and the almost bare walls—aside from a massive TV and gaming station that is taking up one wall almost completely.
Definitely a bachelor’s pad.
There’s only one picture, and my stomach clenches.
It’s the picture I sent him of us in the bed. He had it framed?
“I’m still not crazy about anyone seeing you in a bed, but it’s the only one I had, since I’m not big on taking pictures,” he says, coming up behind me.
My eyes move around the room, taking in each surface. It’s barely decorated at all, and the furniture is minimum. He looks around before taking a sip of his drink, as though he’s seeing what I’m seeing.
“I know you didn’t want to come to my place, and I figured out why. Thought I’d start fresh. You’re the only girl who has been in here other than my sister,” he tells me.
Slowly, I turn to face him, and he blows out a breath before tossing his hat off and toward the couch. It misses and falls to the floor, but I only notice it from my peripheral.
His hair is a little disheveled from the hat, but he runs a hand through it, smoothing it down.
“You changed apartments because you were thinking about how the old one might affect me?” I ask, getting a little dizzy from the magnitude of that confession.
“And got all new furniture. None o
f my old stuff came with me,” he says quietly. “Told you that you make me crazy,” he adds under his breath.
He’s avoiding my eyes again as he turns and drinks his drink, staring at nothing in particular for several long, silent minutes.
“So this was your plan? Kidnap me and bring me back here, then give me the silent treatment?”
He groans again, and he drops his head back.
“I have no plan. I just had hope for the first time in what feels like forever, so I pounced. Now I’m realizing how pathetic this all looks.”
My purse gently slides to the floor as I let go of it. I move closer to him just as he brings his head back down, and I slip my hand under his shirt, running my fingers along his side. His breath halts, and he looks like he’s worried about moving in case it scares me off.
“Why is my keychain the only one there?” I ask him, stepping closer.
He releases the breath he’s holding, but he doesn’t make a move.
“Why do you think?”
My hand slips up higher, feeling the hard muscles ripple beneath my touch when he shudders. I step into him more, pushing my body against his.
“And the yoga classes?” I ask, staring up at him as he keeps his hands to himself.
His breathing is harsher, his eyes are hooded, and he looks like a man on the brink of losing control. But he clears his throat and answers me in a gravelly tone that barely sounds like him.
“Just to see you,” he admits.
He’s as crazy as I am, and everyone knows I’ve lost my mind lately. Jax is a disaster… Just like me. He’s wrecked… just like me.
He’s just as flawed and desperate as I am. Most importantly, he’s going even crazier without me, which might freak some people out, but considering I’m in the same shape, it feels good to see.
I don’t want to push him away. I can’t. Not now. Not after seeing all this and realizing just how deep his own feelings run.
“I don’t want to waste decades like they did,” I finally say, watching as his brow furrows, unaware of the fact my own parents once went separate ways when the real world didn’t hold a candle to the fantasy.
