“Yeah, that never happens to you?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I can’t say it does.”
He crawls onto the bed, leaning down to bite my neck. It’s nice what we have. No emotions, no strings. No exclusivity. It’s the perfect arrangement, and I dread the day some girl sweeps him off his feet, and he ends our tryst.
“I’ve gotta go.” He stands up, grabbing his jeans and pulling them on. “You can chill here if you want, just lock up on your way out.”
I decide to take my time, going to his kitchen to brew some coffee while I peruse the magazines on his counter. Who still has magazines?
“Sugar Pie Honey Bunch” blares through the living room and I groan in frustration. Only Jax would set his ringtone to something so obnoxious. I take my time answering.
“Hey, Teeth.”
“Sweetheart. So good to hear your voice. What are you doing right now?”
“Right now?” I look around Logan’s living room and cringe. Jax doesn’t approve of my relationship with Logan—which is rich considering he’s the king of sex with no strings. “I’m havin’ some coffee at Logan’s, thinkin’ of all the ways to strangle you for messin’ with my ringtone, again.”
He groans. “When are you gonna cut that guy loose, Alina? He’s only using you for one thing.”
“I sure hope so.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he sighs into the phone.
“Oh please, Jackson. I swear, I can’t with you. Actin’ like a man can get his jollies anytime, and a woman needs to wait for some big love.”
He’s silent. I know what this is really about, even if I don’t want to admit it. Jax wants things to go further with the two of us, but I’ve been clear it won’t happen. I wouldn’t be able to love him right. And if anyone deserves the ‘can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t breathe’ kind of love—it’s Jackson Rhoades.
I change the subject, not wanting to argue. “How are things on set?”
“Ugh. I can’t stand the people out here. I’ve worked with some pricks, but this guy, Donahue, thinks he shits out gold. To tell you the truth, I think he actually might.” He exhales before speaking softer. “He’s a giant in this industry. My dad’s dream is so close I can taste it, Lee.”
“Then you’ve just gotta keep pushin’ through it, Jax. Your work will speak for itself. Your daddy would be so proud of you.”
“You think so?”
“I do.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Did I tell you he has this kid? She’s annoying as hell, and always in my ear asking a thousand questions about the cars I’m shaking down. I don’t know why he lets her on set.”
“I thought you loved kids.”
“I love little kids. Not nineteen-year-old brats who aren’t used to hearing the word no.”
My eyes widen. “Nineteen isn’t exactly a kid, Jax.”
“Tell me about it,” he says, more to himself than me.
I hear a faint knock through the line and know he’s about to be stolen away.
“Shit, sweetheart. I’ve gotta go. I expect a phone call Monday night so you can regale me with stories of how you kicked ass at your new job.”
“You got it, Teeth.”
I hang up the phone, melancholy infusing the air around me. I’m so proud of him for all his accomplishments. But I miss my friend.
I spend the rest of the weekend wallowing in loneliness. Jax is gone and Becca is busy doing her daddy’s bidding at the church. Before I know it, it’s Monday morning.
I wake up before my alarm. Dang, Lee. You’re killin’ this new job game. It’s not until I’m in the kitchen I realize I didn’t, in fact, wake up before the alarm, I slept through it.
Shoot.
I rush around the house. Sniff my armpits because a shower’s out the window, brush my teeth and try to tame my tangled hair. My only saving grace is that I laid out my outfit last night. I throw on the black pencil skirt and cream silk blouse I borrowed from Becca. It’s a little tight around my curves, but until I get my first paycheck this is as good as it’s going to get.
I pull into Tiny Dancers five minutes late. There are two other vehicles in the lot and the lights are all turned on inside. The contractor must be here already. Great. Even though I don’t have the time, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, wiping my sweaty hands on the seat’s upholstery.
It doesn’t matter that I’m a few minutes late. I’ll kick butt today, wow this contractor so he’ll sing my praises to Regina. Then I’ll go home, open my celebratory bottle of wine, and call Jax to tell him how amazing I am.
With a nod of affirmation, I get out of my car, straighten my skirt and walk inside.
24
Alina
It’s when I’m walking to the back office that I feel it. The shift in the air. It’s subtle—a ghost of a chill that flickers down my spine. What the heck? I brush it off, straightening my shoulders and walking through the open door.
I don’t see him at first, but when I do—that chill drops like an iceberg, free-falling through my body and freezing me in place.
This isn’t happening.
This cannot be happening.
“Alina! I was starting to wonder if you would even show up,” Regina says, smiling thinly. She’s annoyed, and rightly so. I should respond, but I don’t. I’m not sure I physically can since my heart has stalled in my chest.
Chase Adams.
I’d love him if I didn’t hate him so much.
There’s a pencil behind his ear, a blueprint rolled up in his hand, and another laid out on the desk. But he isn’t looking at that. He’s locked on me, mouth partially open, hand frozen halfway through his silky, dark hair.
He swallows, and my traitorous eyes track the way his throat bobs. “Goldi.”
The nickname travels across the room and pierces me in the chest, snapping me out
