Walking as tall as I can, I enter the dimly lit space and catch sight of Jax at his usual spot. He looks up at me, but his slow smile does less for my libido than it did yesterday. I take my usual seat, but it feels uncomfortable now, like my ass is either too big or too small for it.
“Hey,” I manage.
He leans over the bar. “Hey, you.”
I regard his features, trying to spot a crack in his facade. “I thought I’d come pay you a visit.”
He nods his chin over his shoulder. “There’s one more camera blind spot back there. It’s in the walk-in fridge, though, so it’ll be a little chilly.”
Does he seriously think I want to be banged in a walk-in fridge next to all the produce and condiments? I can’t be the first one to take him up on that offer. Would I have, if Ellie’s revelation hadn’t tarnished my image of him? I don’t want to know the answer to that.
“Rain check.”
“Okay. Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure. Whiskey. Neat.”
“Rough day?” He pulls out a rocks glass and free-pours two fingers.
I toss it back, setting the empty glass onto the bar with a loud clink. “You could say that.”
He pours three more fingers. “Want to talk about it?”
My heart softens momentarily, then hardens once more. Here we go. Five seconds of bravery. “I was thinking about going back to your place, but I was worried about cramping your style. You know, with other people.”
An old guy with a grey moustache and hunched back limps up to the bar and takes a seat a few barstools away, his chair squeaking on the old floors. Jax and I eye him, annoyed by the interruption.
“Bottle of Bud,” he drawls.
Jax leaves for a moment to serve his customer, then turns back to me, leaning even closer on the bar and speaking in a hushed tone. “No one else is there, Mariah. It’s just you and me.”
“Just right now? Or in general?”
He tilts his head to the side. “Is everything okay? It’s not like you to be so self-conscious like this.”
“How do you know how I am? We’ve only been together a few days. In high school I don’t think you said more than two words to me, and I’m pretty sure they were in reference to my breasts.”
Reaching across the bar, he takes my hand in his. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to, Mariah.”
My hand warms, tingles running down my arm. “You did?”
He nods. “Every time I wanted to say something to you, I got so tongue-tied.”
I blush, imagining infamous popular jock Jax secretly pining after me. I like the thought of that far too much.
“And then after Bethany,” he continues, dropping his gazemomentarily, “I couldn’t. You know? I always felt like you were the one that got away.”
“And now you want to be with me?”
“I always did.”
I bite my lip against a smile.
“That’s my girl,” he says, caressing my lip with his thumb. Once again, I’m putty in his hands.
I want to let it go, to put this all behind me, and maybe take him up on his offer of the blind spot in the fridge.
But I have to be sure.