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“Zay always has a shit-fit,” Harlow remarks. “But yeah, I’ll let you go.” She starts to back away then pauses. “You remember that thing I texted you about them yesterday? That club thing?”
I nod, attempting to focus past the bizarre déjà vu still plaguing me.But seriously, what was that?“Yeah. Why? What’s up?”
“Well, I want to talk to you about it more,” she explains. “However, since my brother and his friends seem to think they get to claim your entire schedule, I wanted to pen in some time with you Saturday night.”
“To go clubbing?” I check to make sure that I’m understanding her correctly.
“Sort of.” Her gaze glides to Jax then back to me. “I’ll text you more info tonight, okay?”
I nod, and then we wave goodbye as she heads off toward the cafeteria while Jax and I start toward the exit.
My thoughts instantly go back to those images. I don’t know why they appeared other than maybe my imagination is working overtime. Still, I can’t help but think about all the time I’ve forgotten memories.
Do I know Jax from a long time ago?
And then there was that dream I had that I thought Hunter was in …
“So, about this club she wants you to go to,” Jax interrupts my thoughts as he opens the door for me. “Did Low mention what it was called?”
I take a discreet breath and force myself to focus on the conversation, shaking my head as I step outside. “No, but even if she did, I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you,” I tell him with a teasing smile, hugging my arms around myself as the cool breeze touches my arms.
He steps out and lets the door shut, looking completely serious. “You need to be careful about the places you go in town, especially with you hanging around with us. If you run into one of our enemies, it could get bad if you’re by yourself.”
“You make it sound like you’re in the mob or something.” I start to laugh, but the noise fizzles when he doesn’t even so much as crack a smile. “Are you in the mob?”
He briefly hesitates. “No.”
“You hesitated,” I say slowly.
He hesitates again, strands of his hair blowing away from his face, giving me a good look at his eyes, which I’m noticing look shadowed, haunted.
“We’re not really in the mob,” he finally says. “We’re just … I don’t know …” He sighs. “Can I talk to you more about this when we’re in the car where no one can overhear the conversation?”
He sounds just like Harlow, and I’m left wondering what the hell is going on in this town.
I nod, shivering from the wind. “Sure, but you kind of have me worried.”
“You don’t need to be worried. You’re with us, so you’ll be protected.” He offers me a small smile, and I want to return it, butprotected? Protected from what?
Then his gaze drops to my arms, and he frowns. “Are you cold?
“A little,” I admit. “It was a lot warmer where we moved from. I wore shorts around this time of year all the time, so I didn’t think much of it, but I’m definitely regretting my clothing choice right now.”
“Yeah, Honeyton gets cold earlier than a lot of places,” he says, setting the box down on the ground. “And we have snow like nine months out of the year.” He slips off the zip-up hoodie.
My eyes widen. “Nine months? Holy shit.”
He nods then moves to place the hoodie on my shoulders.
My shock of the wintery weather here is mild in comparison to what he just did. No guy has ever done something like this for me. Like ever. No one has, really.
“I don’t really need your hoodie,” I tell him. “I can tough it out until we get to the car.”
“No way. You’re not used to the cold, and I am.” He tugs down the sleeves of his shirt then leans over and picks up the box.
Yeah, scary my ass.
“Well, thanks.” I slip my arms through the sleeves, and then, to add to his sweetness, he zips it up for me.
