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Chapter 26
After driving to Jackson’s house, I sat in the car for a while and tried to figure out the passcode on his phone. After three tries I worried I might lock both of us out forever, so I didn’t try again. As tempting as it was to answer the incoming calls, I didn’t. I shut the phone off altogether, knowing that Jax wasn’t going to call it himself. And he was the only one who mattered right now. I left and then drove to Vent, the café where we had coffee and met with Barrett and Catarina.
Now I’m enjoying my mocha and ignoring my own phone for a while. I imagine the footage from my parents’ front yard is currently making the rounds, and frankly I’m too exhausted to think about it. Then again…
I cue up the video in record time after doing a quick search for “Nina Lockhart and Jax” on Google. Playing it back, I watch my own face for signs of tells and Jax’s for signs he’s not acting. The “I love you” he said before he left doesn’t seem faked. But his reaction to my telling him I used to love him doesn’t seem faked, either. His face falls in staunch acceptance. I think it’s acceptance.
If I’d had any guts at all, I’d have broken character and told Jax that I loved him, too, but I’d assumed he was pretending like I’d asked him to. I thought for sure he was egging on Xavier and giving the public a good show.
I’m so stupid.
Jax doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. He cares about me—about what people think about me. He cast himself to the wolves on my parents’ lawn, and I let him do it without reciprocating.
I stand to leave when a young guy with a coffee cup in hand stops me. “Hey, can I get an autograph for my girlfriend?”
“Sure,” I say with a polite smile. Always serving the public. That’s me. I scribble my name on the cup. I decide to go to Jax’s house one more time and see if he’s there. If he’s not, then…then I don’t know what. Maybe I’ll leave a note this time. I’ll sign it I love you. From Allie.
On the walk to the car I crane my neck, eyes landing on a tall building. I have a better idea than a love note on his porch.
A much better idea…
—
Tommy and I put in a full day at the Caldwell house redoing the shelving in their large, open living room. They asked for my expertise in remodeling their playroom as well. Tempting as it was to agree to do it right away and lose myself in more work, I promised to call them about it later. I leave the residence, Tommy hot on my heels.
I’m not the only person who’s working instead of dealing with his feelings.
“What’s up with you today?” he asks as we stroll to my truck.
“Nothing. You want a beer?”
“Yeah. If you’re buying.”
“I’m buying.” We walk into Corner Store about fifteen minutes later and pick a table. Beers in hand, we lift them to drink when Tommy tries again.
“What’s up with you, Jackson? We’re friends, right? You can tell me. Is it Nina?”
“She has my cellphone,” I say, mentally adding and my heart. “I don’t miss it, though. I like being unreachable. I used to worry about there being an emergency, but you know what? Fuck it.”
I offer a calm Zen master blink and chug more beer.
“Dude. What happened? Seriously.”
“You and Lydia ever make up?” I ask, ignoring his line of questioning in favor of one of my own.
“We’re talking.”
Talking.
I grunt my disbelief. “Don’t say anything that might prompt an unsavory response.”
“Un…what…? Jax.”
“I told her I loved her,” I blurt out.
“Lydia?”
“Allie, you jackass. Nina,” I quickly correct, since Tommy knows Allie better for her celebrity persona. “I told her I loved her and she chose her Oscar-winning boyfriend over me. I think. It went down in kind of a confusing way. And it was recorded. The video’s probably wallpapering TMZ right about now.”
