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Chapter 22
I wake up to a loud crash coming from the vicinity of my parents’ bedroom and jolt out of bed. Jax told me he’d be here early to make some final tweaks to the deck and promised to wake me when he was done.
That crash didn’t sound like a “tweak” to me. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’d planned on waking me in a much sexier way than that.
I hurry out of bed, groggy from staying up late for the last three nights in a row—Jax’s fault—and slide my legs into shorts. I grab a T-shirt, intending to forgo the bra until I hear two voices. Jax’s and another one that’s male and slightly garbled. If I had to guess I’d say it’s Tommy’s.
Bra on, hair somewhat arranged on my head, and last night’s mascara removed from under my eyes, I gargle with mouthwash and leave my bedroom. When I step into the hallway and hear my name, I stop cold and cock my head to listen.
“Calm down before you wake Allie,” comes Jax’s warning. His tone is firm but gentle at the same time. How does he do that? Call up that calmly authoritative voice? “There is a better way to take out your frustrations than knocking a hole in Daryl’s drywall.”
“Sorry.” That one word is cracked around the edges. Tommy pulls in a breath and lets it out. Then I hear a sentence that squeezes my heart with sympathy. “Lydia dumped me and I feel like I’m going to die.”
“You’re not going to die.” Jax sighs and I hear a shuffling sound like he’s sitting. “Talk to me.”
“She—I love her so much and last night she said we were over. She met someone. I know it. I mean, I don’t know it for sure, but it’s a good guess, right?”
Jax doesn’t respond.
“I texted her this morning that I’m coming over today to sort this out and this is what she said”—the inflection of his voice changes as he reads—“ ‘Today isn’t good.’ Today isn’t good! Can you believe that shit?”
I wince. I can believe it. It’s easy to be cowardly. Being up-front is harder.
“She and I were in love,” Tommy continues. “There’s no way she’d walk away unless some asshole turned her head. I can’t picture being with anyone but her, you know?” He sniffs. “Nah, you don’t know. You’re hot and heavy with the famous actress down the hall.”
Tommy’s voice lilts with good humor like he’s goading Jax into admitting something. I, for one, am curious if he’ll admit anything.
“No girl has ever broken your stone-cold heart. Am I right?” Tommy lets out a watery laugh swimming with emotion. I can’t help my own sad smile. I expect Jax to tell him to shake it off and get back to work, but he surprises me by saying more. I step lightly down the hallway, creeping closer to listen.
“Yeah, I’ve had my heart broken. That famous actress down the hall was the one who did the breaking. I was about your age when it happened.”
“You guys dated before?”
“In high school and part of college. She dropped out and moved to Hollywood.”
“And dumped you,” Tommy concludes.
“She swung the final blow, but I suspect we were heading there already.”
“Holy shit. High school sweethearts. Lydia and me have been datin’ a year. Feels longer, though. I was going to marry that girl.”
“I know what you mean.”
I’m stunned stupid, my heart thundering at that pronouncement. If Jax was going to marry me, that was the first I’ve heard of it. Maybe he said it just to be nice. To be relatable…
“Must’ve sucked seeing her on TV and magazines,” Tommy says. “Knowing she was off dating famous people while you were stuck here.”
Jax remains silent, and really what is there to say to that?
“But she’s here now, and somehow you got her back.” Tommy’s voice is infused with hope. “How?”
“She’s back for now, not for good. Her life’s in California. That’s not going to change.”
“It could.”
“No. It couldn’t. We’re enjoying being together for the moment. In the moment. That’s how you need to take this breakup. One moment at a time. Breathe in. Breathe out. It’s going to hurt for a while and it’s going to suck for a longer while. But you’ll come out of it. Even if Lydia doesn’t come back to you, you’ll come out of it. Yeah?”
A sound like Jax thumping Tommy on the back comes from the bedroom and his voice rises as he stands. “Call Daryl. Ask him to repair the hole you punched in his work. You’re explaining this mess, not me. And the materials are coming out of your paycheck.”
