Arlo finally turns to face me, his expression unreadable—but something in his eyes shifts. “You’d be damn good at that.”
“I’d still be part of it. Still connected. But I’d have a home base. With Jax. With…something steady.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of Arlo’s mouth. “You don’t sound conflicted. You sound ready.”
“I’m tired,” I admit. “Tired of pretending I have to keep proving something out there. Maybe it’s time I started showing up for myself instead.”
Arlo lifts his bottle, clinks it against mine. “To showing up. And to finding a life that fits.”
I clink back. “To both.”
We drink in silence. The stars above us. The noise of laughter drifted from inside. And for once, I’m not stuck between two worlds. I’m standing right in the middle, and it feels like balance.
CHAPTER30
PHARO
The automatic doors whoosh open,and the familiar scent of antiseptic and lavender hits me square in the chest. It’s strange how something can be both comforting and slightly clinical at the same time.
Jax hangs back just a little as we walk in, hands in his jacket pockets, posture loose but alert. I know that stance. It means he’s trying to play it cool but has already scanned the exits, counted the nurses, and clocked the guy in the corner reading upside down.
The front desk is manned—womanned—by Allison today. She brightens when she sees us. Or more accurately, when she seeshim.
“Well, look who’s back so soon,” she says with a teasing smile. “Good to see you again, Jax.”
I arch a brow. “So soon? It’s been weeks since I asked you to visit.”
Jax shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “I dropped by a few times while you were deployed. Then a few turned into... more. Figured someone should keep her company. And you know. A promise is a promise.”
My stomach does that annoying little twist it sometimes does around him—equal parts admiration andwhat did I do to deserve this guy?
Though, ironically, that’s also something I ask myself when he’s being a pain in the ass.
“You promised her you’d visit?”
He shrugs again, cheeks definitely pink. “We have a connection. She likes me.”
“She called you a ‘slippery bastard’ the first time she met you.”
“Term of endearment. You should hear what she calls you,” he smirks.
I shake my head, but before I can make a sarcastic comment, Allison buzzes us through with a grin. “She’s in the garden room today. Go on back.”
We find her parked by the window, wrapped in a quilt patterned with cartoon birds. Her gaze is distant, flicking over the flowers outside with a dreamy kind of detachment.
“Hi, Mami,” I say gently, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Brought someone you might recognize.”
Her eyes snap into focus like a camera lens sharpening. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite delinquent.”
Jax salutes. “Reporting for duty, ma’am.”
She cackles and the smile lights up her eyes. “Don’t tempt me. You still owe me for the time you spilled prune juice on my bingo cards.”
Jax appears confused. “I... never did that.”
She raises her brows. “Notyet.But bingo starts in an hour.”
Jax kneels beside her wheelchair, still grinning like an idiot, and she runs her hand over his carefully gelled faux hawk, then smacks the back of his head lightly. “Your mind is rotting, like mine is.”