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“After what happened, I am not even going to share this news with him. He doesn’t deserve any decency from me. He can read it on social media if he wants.”
“I agree. Just wondering, in case I run into him.”
Gemma and I hang up and I spend the next few hours working. By the end of the day, all the emails cluttering my inbox have been read and filed accordingly. I feel like it’s safe to disconnect. I grab my phone and sit on my couch for a few minutes to decompress.
There’s a bunch of new social media notifications. Everyone is commenting on my video post. New followers are flooding in from the media, and obviously 5 Leo Hearts’ fans. Wow, I feel almost influential overnight. I scan through the list of accounts and one notification stops me in my tracks:Jax Slater started following you.
* * *
I spend the rest of the week running errands, packing, and getting ready for tour. When I said goodbye to my mom, she lectured me on being safe and gave me a female safety alarm keychain. She’s happy for me, but she’s also a mom worried about her daughter going on tour, so I get it. Gemma gave me so many clothes that I basically have a new wardrobe. I’m set for the bus, show nights, and gosh, even bedtime, because she threw in silk pajamas. I told her no one wears silk pajamas on tour and that I am not impressing anyone because I’ll have a bus to myself. She just winked.
We’re getting down to the wire now and everyone is in a tizzy, but I never expected Jax to randomly text me.
Jax: Need your opinion.
Me: Go for it.
I move to my couch, nervously pull a blanket on me, and grab a pillow for emotional support. Just the thought of Jax wanting—no, needing—my opinion, gets me giddy. As I settle in, Jax sends me a bunch of photos of him in different outfits. This is not what I was expecting. Also, Jax Slater is sending me mirror selfies. Is this real life?
Jax: Packing outfits for the stage. Harry wanted me to use my old stylist, but I don’t want to look like a boy band guy. I want to look like me. So, I went shopping the other day.
He’s texting me about clothes. I can handle this. It’s part of my job.
Me: I am sort of an expert in clothes. What makes you feel the most confident?
Jax: Definitely pieces that are more laid back and casual, but I think my fans are expecting my outlandish costumes. I don’t want to disappoint them.
Me: I think just seeing you up on stage will get them going.
I immediately regret typing that message and stomp my feet on the couch. In an effort to redeem myself, I text him the options I think will look great, which are tight black jeans that hug his backside. Or, at least I imagine they do.
Jax: Thanks, Cailin. I trust your opinion so I’m going with it.
Me: Happy to be of service.
This is where I expect the conversation to end. Except, I see three little dots blinking across the message box. It looks like Jax keeps typing and deleting his message. Finally, he hits send.
Jax: Hope you know what you’re getting yourself into going on tour.
I’m not sure what Jax means by this, so I opt to keep it light-hearted.
Me: I am fully prepared with my favorite snacks, so I feel I can accomplish anything that comes my way.
Jax: Is that so? Sweet or salty?
Me: Trick question. A mix of both. What about you?
Are we really having this conversation?
Jax: Spicy, but I also like the taste of sweet things…
He certainly knows how to heat things up. There he goes, borderline crossing boundaries. Is he flirting with me again? This must be his personality. No wonder he has this reputation. But I can’t let it get romantic between us as much as I want to fall for his lines. So, I don’t reply.
Of course, Jax keeps this going.
Jax: I also like to stream movies on the bus ride between cities. A few hours of my favorite action flicks pass the time. It can get lonely.
Jax is good. Real good at being bad. I, however, am really good at being the good girl. And he will not break me. I ignore his little innuendo.
