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He hesitates. “It’s nothing.” Anxiety is radiating off of him, but I’m starting to catch on to the fact that this is just who Jax is. He’s a worrier, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s just something I notice. Probably because I worry a lot, too. I just usually get stoned whenever I feel that way, but the river ruined my stash. Not that I don’t think these guys can get me some, if I ask. But we’re getting drunk tonight, so that’ll do, I guess.
“What can I do to make you feel less nervous?” I ask, trying to make him feel better.
He considers what I said, wavering his head from side to side. “Can you just let me stay by you while we’re in here?”
I nod. “Sure. I was already planning on it, anyway.”
He relaxes a smidgeon then reaches for the door handle and pushes the door open. He climbs out, and I follow, stepping onto the gravel parking lot. Then Jax locks the door before shutting it while I wander over to where Hunter is standing in front of the car.
“It’s colder out here than it is at you guys’ house,” I remark as I wrap my arms around myself.
“It’s because it’s closer to the mountains,” Hunter explains, checking his phone. “You’re feeling okay, right?”
“Um … yeah?” I ask, unsure why he’s asking me that. “It’s just a little cold.”
He smiles at me as he pockets his phone. “That’s not what I meant.” The gravel crunches underneath his boots as he steps toward me. “I just want to make sure you’re okay after the bridge incident. We weren’t sure if we should take you to a doctor or not. If you feel weird at all, you should let us know.”
“I’m fine,” I promise as Jax steps up beside me. “I’ve just never done well with being cold. I never really lived in cold places for too long. Although, you’d think, after feeling the coldness of that water today, this would feel like a cakewalk. Apparently, not the case—I still have zero tolerance for freezing my ass off.”
“Then let’s get you inside,” Hunter tells me, snagging a hold of my hand and pulling me toward the entrance with him.
Jax lollygags behind us with his gaze on the ground as we walk. “We should make this quick … Being here …” He sweeps his gaze over the mostly vacant parking lot. “I don’t like it.” The few people who are out here are watching us, so I kind of see what he’s saying that.
Hunter quietly sighs. “I know, man. We’ll hurry.” He pulls open the door with his free hand then steps inside, pulling me with him.
I’m immediately overcome by the sound of chatter, the smell of booze and cigarette smoke, and the heat of what I’m guessing is being caused by all the sweaty bodies crammed in here.
“Dude, there are so many people here.” I have to speak loudly over the chatter. “And the air feels sweaty.”
Hunter tosses me a smile from over his shoulder. “You wanted to feel warmer, right?”
I crinkle my nose. “Not from sweaty people.”
He chuckles, shaking his head, and mutters something under his breath that sounds like, “So adorable.”
Before I can remark, he’s towing me through the rough-looking people as we make our way farther into the bar. Jax moves up behind me and places his hands on my hips, offering me a bit more comfort. Well, his touch probably would if his fingers weren’t so close to my scars. But I know he’s only trying to help keep me a bit more protected from all the people, so I suck it up and keep moving forward, attempting to ignore all the gawking in our direction.
At first, I wonder what in the hell these people are looking at. Then it dawns on me that none of us are twenty-one and we’re just wandering around in a bar.
I turn my head toward Jax and whisper, “Are we even supposed to be in this place? We’re not old enough.”
“We’re fine,” he assures. “This is the sort of place we could probably order a drink and be okay. Although, then we’d have to stick around, and I’d rather not.”
It seems a bit weird that he’s so freaked out about being here. I mean, yeah, the crowd looks rough, but Jax and Hunter look like they could hold their own in a fight. Then Jax says something that makes me understand why he’s kind of uneasy.
“There are people here who work for my father. And I hate being around those types of people.”
“Oh.” I flick a glance around before returning my gaze to him. “So, is that why they’re staring? Because they know who you are?”
“Yeah. And Hunter.” He gives a short pause. “I’m sure they’re wondering who you are, too.” He frowns at a large dude with a shaved head and a snake tattoo going up the side of his face. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea that we brought you in here.” His grip on my hips tightens. “I don’t like how some of them are looking at you.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him. “Remember, I said I can throw a mean punch if I need to.”
“I know, but”—he sweeps his gaze over the area—“I feel like this is announcing that you’re part of our group. And, while I know everyone in this town was going to find out eventually, it might not have been a good idea to do it in this bar of all places.”
He holds onto me tighter as we continue to squeeze our way through the crowd, past the bar area, and toward a door located at the back near the bathrooms with a sign on it that reads: Keep Out.
When we reach it, Hunter wraps his fingers around the doorknob. I’ll admit I’m a bit tense as he pulls the door open. Part me half-expects a beefy dude to jump out and throw us out for entering. And a beefy dude, who I’m assuming is the bouncer, is standing right there, but he just gives us a nod.
