8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Jax
I think I’m having my first heat stroke.
When the guys and I first visited the States last year, my mum would constantly harp on us about staying hydrated and wearing lighter clothing.
She was convinced one of us would keel over from the heat because some friend told her Cardiff’s July is basically Boston’s springtime.
We just rolled our eyes and told her she was being dramatic, and that heat strokes were more of a concern in the southern states, like Florida.
Not so much of a worry on the East Coast.
But here I am, in the middle of Boston, Massachusetts, swearing to God I’m having my first heat stroke. Because there’s no way this makes any sense.
One second we’re just messing around, tossing a ball back and forth, and the next? That same ball nearly nails Allie in the head—of all people.
I stand here, staring while trying to figure out if she’s a mirage or some sort of heat-induced hallucination. But then she smiles—just a small one. The corner of her mouth pulls up, and it’s like the ground drops out from under me.
She turns back to Gareth and tosses him the ball when the sun bounces off her sunburnt cheeks. I’m too busy still staring like a weirdo that I almost missed the small glimpse of a purple-and-blue crescent lying just under her right eye, and it hits me like a punch to the gut.
I don’t even think before my feet start moving, every step harder than the last because the sand’s working against me like it’s trying to hold me back.
I reach her in a few strides and my fingers instinctively reach for her chin as they easily glide underneath.
Pausing, I search her face for any sign of discomfort, or that I might have crossed a line, but she doesn’t flinch.
Doesn’t even pull away. Instead, she leans into it, tilting her head slightly while her eyes lock on mine.
I let my hand fall, take a step back, and mentally kick myself in the ass. What am I even doing ? I’m not the kind of guy who just runs up to someone like that.
What the hell is wrong with me?
All I know is, the heaviness in my chest? It’s awful. If I thought I felt bad before, it’s nothing compared to the mess in my stomach after seeing her eye like that.
I grab the back of my neck, squeezing tightly to try to find some sort of relief, but it’s no use.
“I’m so sorry, Allie. Are you sure you’re okay?”
She smiles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It wasn’t your fault,” she says lightly, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. “I should’ve been paying attention.”
The tension in my shoulders suddenly lifts, and my hand falls from my neck, returning to my side. The fact that she’s not pissed off about it and taking it out on us says a lot. I’ve seen firsthand how many bands lose fans because they got hurt at their shows and never wanted to come back.
“Hey, since you guys are from here, maybe you can help us out,” James interrupts, gesturing toward Allie and her friends. “If tomorrow is America Day, why is the beach so dead?” He hikes his thumb over his shoulder toward the boardwalk.
He does have a point. We’ve been out here for a few hours now and passed maybe three people, tops. I’ve heard people usually go all out for the holiday, fireworks and all, so it was pretty shocking to walk here and find it practically empty.
“What the hell is ‘America Day’?” Gareth laughs beside me.
I glance at him and nod toward James. “He’s talking about the Fourth of July. It’s practically the same thing as St. David’s Day.”
Allie’s friend, the one with the warm skin and long, curly, brown hair, places her hands on her hips and scrunches her nose. “There’s a storm coming so everyone’s hiding while we indulge in it.”
“Ah, so you guys don’t celebrate the beloved birthday then I take it?” James jokes, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Well, I don’t know about them, but I was planning on bringing some tea to the harbor,” she says with a light laugh.
James cackles, like throwing his head back laughing. He points to her lazily before saying, “I like this one. She’s funny.”
She places her hand on her chest. “I’m Ana. We met yesterday, but you guys met a ton of people.”
I look back at Allie and see her smiling from ear to ear with the faintest shade of pink brushing along her cheeks and the tips of her ears.
I keep trying not to look at her too long so I don’t end up looking like a total creep, but I can’t help it.
The way her smiles seem so genuine and makes you feel like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be is addictive.
The way it makes you feel like you mean something to someone, even if you just met them three seconds ago.
“Man, it’s too bad you guys don’t celebrate it. If it’s anything like St. David’s Day, then it’s the best excuse to crack a few open. At least that’s what we do,” James says, nudging Gareth with his elbow, who just glares at him.
Ana smirks before looking at Allie from the corner of her eye and quickly returns her attention to James. “I mean,” she drawls with a shrug. “We don’t normally... but we could.”
As soon as the words leave her lips, I don’t miss the sudden drop in Allie’s expression as she whips around to face her friend. Her complexion changes from its rosy shade of pink to a ghostly white in a matter of seconds.
I turn toward James, nudging his elbow a few times to try and tell him it’s time to leave.
“Hey, man, maybe we should—”
He turns to me, eyes wide with excitement when he cuts me off.
“Yeah, mate, you’re right! We should totally meet up and have a few.
” He turns back to Ana. “In celebration of America’s birthday and all.
I don’t really need an excuse to crack one open, but it would be nice to get out of that bloody hotel,” he says while gesturing behind him to our hotel on the boardwalk.
Allie’s other friend’s face lights up at the suggestion. I mean, she’s been gawking at Gareth since we walked up, so I’m sure she’s down for it.
“W…We even have a den downstairs,” she stutters. “We could just hang out and ride out the storm down there.”
Ana turns to Allie, giving her a mischievous grin. “What do you say, Allie? Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
Allie’s mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. She closes her eyes, noticeably taking in a deep breath before slowly pushing it out, meanwhile my own breath is caught in my lungs.
I lean in toward James, murmuring, “I don’t think it’s a good idea, man.”
He abruptly turns toward me, shaking his head. “What do you mean, Jax? They don’t look like serial killers. I think we’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, it… uh… sounds like fun.” Allie’s voice cuts in, and my head quickly snaps to her.
Did I just hear her right?
“Let me”—she hikes a thumb over her shoulder—“go grab a pen for the address.”
Okay… I did hear her right.
I watch her walk away slowly and shoot daggers at James before my feet are already moving toward her.
They seem to keep doing that—making decisions before my brain can even register what’s going on.
What the hell am I supposed to even say?
Before I can think of anything, we already reach her towel, and every thought that comes to my mind flies out as I watch her bend at the waist, fumbling inside her bag.
It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to let my eyes wander.
Apparently, though, I don’t have enough of it since my eyes rake slowly down her back, down to her perfect, round—
She suddenly straightens, spins around, and holds out a crumpled piece of paper with an address scrawled across it.
“I knew I had a pen in there somewhere,” she says with a nervous laugh.
I take the paper from her hand, reading the address so many times I’m sure I won’t forget it when I inevitably lose it. My eyes land on hers, and I find myself easily lost in them. They look… almost sad.
I start folding the edge of the page slowly, like my hands need a distraction while my brain figures out what to do.
I was going to tell her if she didn’t want us to come, to say the word, and I’d forget the address.
But those eyes tell me she’s seen a storm or two in her life—figuratively speaking anyway.
And maybe she just needs someone to listen to her.
Maybe that’s why she was brought into my life.
“Thank you,” I say with a smile. “What time should we plan for?”
“That’s really up to you guys,” she says with a shrug, then crosses her arms at her chest. “We’ll be there all day.”
“Maybe we should exchange numbers?” I blurt without thinking.
God, I really need to stop doing that.
I nod my head toward the paper, trying to keep my cool while butterflies rage in my stomach. “That way I can let you know when we’re on our way.”
Smooth, Jax. Smooth.
Her cheeks turn that beautiful pink again, her smile widening before she takes the paper from between my fingers. She starts to write it down, but I can see the hesitation in the way she keeps writing and pausing.
She folds up the paper and slides it into my palm, the contact feeling like every little bundle of nerves comes to life.
Her eyes snap to mine, wide and full of questions while her brows slowly pull together. Our hands are still locked tight, so I gently squeeze hers and give her a soft smile.
“We’ll see you tomorrow?” I ask, my throat suddenly feeling dry.
She nods once. “We’ll see you then.”
Our hands fall apart slowly before the guys pop up behind me, but I don’t hear a single bloody word they’re saying. The only thought that keeps running through my mind?
What the fuck am I getting myself into?