Page 29 of Holly Jolly July

I can’t believe she didn’t recognize me. Sure, my hair is different, and my clothes are different, and... well, everything is different. But Jax had recognized me almost immediately. Maybe he’d been paying closer attention to me in high school than I’d thought. My stomach flutters at the idea.

Before Bethany can get another look, I beeline for the discount books outside the front doors. I scan the stacks and pull out something familiar, careful not to cause an avalanche. The fore-edge is stained grey from thousands of page flips and the cover is bent and creased, but it’s unmistakably the same book I’d read a dozen times as a teenager.

Seems fitting; nostalgia is hitting hard today.

I takeJade Green: A Ghost Storyto the till and pay with a loonie and other loose change, then duck out of the bookstore and back into the sunshine.

Book in hand, I walk back to set and make my way towardthe film area where Jimmie and the other crew are seated behind the screens. It’s interesting to see what goes on back here, between lighting and sound techs and all the other people making sure filming runs smoothly. For the first time since taking the job, I feel like I’m actually learning something. We keep an eye on the monitors and rush out between takes to touch up makeup and hair as needed, but mostly it’s a lot of sitting around. While everyone else is checking their phones and chatting, I read snippets of my book and am met with the familiar haunting tale, which grips me the same way it did when I was in fifth grade. The scene I remember most clearly is when Judith Sparrow is riding in a horse-drawn wagon with her love interest and sweat trickles between her breasts.

I clench my thighs together with the imagery, recalling how this book was my first inkling of knowing I was bisexual. It wasn’t until Rachel McAdams inThe Notebookthat I was certain.

The scene reminds me of a certain someone else whose sweaty breasts I’d been ogling the other day. She’s not on set today, and for a split second I almost miss her zany energy before shaking the brief thought from my head.

By the time I finish my book it’s wrap time. One more hour until I can see Jax.

Part of me considers telling him I ran into Bethany. We could laugh about how she had no idea who I was and what she’d think if she knew about us.

But the last thing I want is to remind him of who I used to be.

After cleaning up and being released by Jimmie, I get back into my car and drive through the closest A&W to scarf down a quick burger, fries, and root beer. Wouldn’t want my stomach rumbling if things get spicy.Whenthey get spicy, that is.

After brushing my teeth with a bottle of water and spitting out onto the pavement, I touch up my makeup and reapply deodorant. Jeez, I feel like I’m eighteen again, living out of my car. I drive to the bar and steel myself, trying to summon theair of someone who didn’t check the clock every five minutes in anticipation of a booty call, then walk inside with all the confidence and ease I can muster.

It’s busier in Grumpy Joe’s today, with several older blue-collar gentleman sitting at tables with sandwiches and pints, playing keno games and quietly chatting.

Jax is behind the bar, standing out like a blinking neon sign in this drab environment. He spots me immediately, his neutral, bored expression morphing into a smouldering smirk. I remain stoic and cool as I take my usual seat at the bar.

“What’ll it be, ma’am?” he asks.

I sputter in mock offence. “Excuse me? Do I look like a ma’am to you?”

He leans on the bar as his eyes hungrily assess my cleavage. “No, you do not.”

“Then behave, or I’ll leave.”

His eyes snap up to mine. “Youbehave, and I’ll show you a spot in the back where there aren’t any cameras.”

My lower half clenches at the idea. I lift my chin. “Fine. I’ll...behave.”

He grins. “I’m sure you will.”

Jax quickly scans the bar, then, deciding it’s safe, nods his head toward the doorway behind the bar to the staff area. He lets me lead the way, walking through a hallway with shelving on one side holding various goods for the bar and kitchen. I turn around, not sure where Jax wants me to go, but he’s right behind me and I run into his hard chest. His strong hands grip both of my upper arms as he pushes me back several steps, then presses me against the wall.

He looks left, right, then down at me. “There’s a camera blind spot right here. They’ll never know what I’m about to do to you. It’ll be our dirty little secret.”

I like the sound of that far too much. “Is that so? Tell me, Jax, what is it you’re about to do to me?” I pull my arms away from him and grip the back of his neck.

He squeezes my hips, then reaches lower, grabbing my ass and hoisting me up so my legs wrap around his waist. He grinds against me, already hard, our breath intermingling. “I’d rather show you.”

His mouth meets mine, tongue seeking, and I oblige, starving for connection. Our kisses grow more fervent, and the throbbing need between my thighs gets desperate. Jax isn’t in a hurry, despite being on the clock. It’s easy to forget that there’s a whole world outside when he’s against me like this, so close, and yet not where I need him to be.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he says, removing his lips from mine and kissing my throat.

I snort. “Liar. And easy on the neck.”

He pulls away, inspecting it. “I distinctly remember leaving a hickey here.”

“I almost got caught with it at work.”

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