24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Allie
It’s funny how quickly you can get comfortable with the things that once terrified you.
The first time I met Jax here, I was a nervous wreck—heart pounding, palms sweaty, full-on panic mode.
I was terrified of being rejected, of getting in too deep, too fast…
and maybe even just a little afraid of him .
Trusting someone new with your body is scary to say the least, but really? I haven’t regretted a single second.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Jax in the last few weeks, it’s that I can absolutely trust him. He’s shown me in every possible way that he has me in a way no one ever has.
He makes me feel like I matter. Like my happiness isn’t just an afterthought to him—it’s his entire goal.
Finding someone who takes care of your soul as much as your body is difficult in itself, which makes all of this that much harder.
Every time I meet up with him, he takes another chip of my heart with him when we part ways.
But that’s not what this is supposed to be. I have to keep reminding myself of that fact.
I push through the double doors, my heart racing a mile a minute, but this time not with nerves. Not even close. It’s more like that excited buzz that hits when you’re about to see someone who makes your whole day better just by existing.
Then I spot him almost immediately, sitting on the same stool where he’s met me countless times before.
My heart stutters and my feet stop, and I just watch him for a few minutes from a few feet away.
Just knowing he’s sitting there, patiently waiting for me is a feeling I honestly couldn’t describe if I tried.
Then my feet are moving toward him again, like we’re two magnets fighting to become one. I slide onto the stool next to him, already smiling, expecting that lazy, crooked grin he always gives me.
But… nothing.
He doesn’t even look at me. Just stares off at nothing, absently spinning his phone along the bar. The soft thudding of it hitting the wood is the only sound between us.
I reach out, brushing my fingers gently down his forearm, hoping to snap him out of whatever this is. But he flinches and jerks away quickly.
The way my stomach drops, it feels like someone just slapped me across the face.
Something is definitely… off.
Everything between us has been easy, safe even. But right now? I wish I had stayed home instead. Curled up under my comforter and gone to bed early instead of feeling what I do now.
Then my mind catapults me to the other day at the amusement park, and how odd he was acting then too.
I had a gut feeling he was going to tell me he wanted to end things…
and this is only solidifying that thought.
He never actually said anything, but that moment’s been sitting in the back of my brain ever since, simmering like a pot about to boil over.
And now? Now it feels like I was right all along.
He’s over it. Over me . I can see it in the way he won’t meet my eyes, and in the way he flinched like my touch physically burned him.
I should’ve known this wasn’t going to last. I mean, it always felt a little too good to be true. I just didn’t think it’d end this soon.
Then he finally turns slowly, glancing at me over his shoulder when his expression shifts from confused and offended to relief. He turns fully so our knees are almost touching before he gently brushes the back of his hand down my cheek.
“I didn’t even hear you come in,” he says, his voice low. “Felt a hand on my arm and was like, what the fuck?” He laughs a little, shaking his head.
I blow out a slow, relieved breath. At least now I have an answer for why he jerked away like I was some sort of walking disease.
But something still isn’t sitting right.
He usually knows the second I walk in—sometimes even before I make it through the door. And now that I’m really looking at him… his face is a little flushed, his shoulders tense under his leather jacket.
Wait—his jacket .
He never wears it when we meet. Not inside. Not when he plans to stay.
I swallow hard. “Is everything okay?”
My heart’s pounding, but it feels light, like it’s floating somewhere between my chest and stomach, holding on by a thread that’s just about to snap.
He takes my hand, lifts it to his lips, and presses a soft kiss to my knuckles before setting it gently on the bar.
“Everything’s great,” he says, trying to reassure me, but it does little to my still-growing anxiety.
I nod, forcing myself to swallow the lump forming in my throat.
“Are you ready?” he asks, tipping his head toward the bar. “Or do you wanna grab a drink first?”
My brows knit together. We never grab a drink before heading upstairs. That’s always been our unspoken rule. No distractions, no scattered thoughts… just us .
The suspicion creeps higher. “Are you sure everything’s okay?” I ask again, searching his face for anything that might tell me if he’s lying.
He smiles, his eyes locking with mine. “Everything’s always perfect with you,” he says softly.
And just like that, my heart nearly implodes. If I wasn’t so busy internally spiraling, I’d probably be melting into the floor right now.
Then poor Jeremy would have to stop serving drinks to mop me up.
Jax slowly rises from his stool, adjusting his jacket before offering his hand and I slide mine easily into his.
He leads us quietly out of the bar, and into the elevator.
The anxiety gnaws at my skin while we stand there in silence, our hands still clasped between us, and he gives mine a gentle squeeze.
But when I glance up, I notice something else that’s wrong about tonight.
The elevator button.
Usually, he presses eleven. That’s our floor . Our room .
This time, the number fourteen stares back at me.
My eyes snap to his. “Was our normal room not available?” I ask nervously, chewing on the inside of my lip.
He shakes his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, but says nothing else.
What the hell is going on?
The elevator doors slowly glide open, and the silence feels heavier, nearly suffocating. I glance up and down the hallway—empty. Not a single soul in sight.
He gives my hand a gentle tug, and I follow, unease curling in my stomach while I realize the plan I thought we had is quickly shifting into something unfamiliar.
Unfamiliar and I are not good friends. At all.
He swipes the keycard at a door marked 14A, and my heart lurches into my throat at the soft click of the lock.
He steps inside, but I don’t. My feet are busy being glued to the floor.
When the lights flick on, I finally move, walking in slowly, and my mouth falls open.
I gesture toward the bed, my gaze flicking to Jax as he stands silently by the sliding doors to the balcony.
“What…” I shake my head, trying to piece everything together. “What is this?”
My eyes drift back to the bed where red rose petals are scattered across the comforter, placed so delicately, so intentionally, it makes me wonder if that’s why he’s acting so funny.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away, not wanting to ruin whatever this moment is.
He walks toward me and slips both of my hands in his.
“Do you remember the other day at the amusement park?” he asks gently. “When I told you I needed to talk to you?”
I nod, heart thudding all over again. “Yeah… you said it was that you didn’t want to go on any rides.”
He chuckles under his breath. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “That’s… not entirely what it was.”
My brows pinch together, and I narrow my eyes at him, not quite sure where this is going.
He takes a small step back, gently tugging me with him until we reach the sliding doors.
Then, without a word, he shrugs off his leather jacket and drapes it around my shoulders, his fingers trailing lightly down my arms as he does, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
Then he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my forehead, his eyes meeting mine for a fraction of a second before he tugs the doors open.
Cool night air rushes in, catching my hair and whipping it around my face. I reach up instinctively to smooth it down as he leads me outside.
That’s when I see it.
In the corner of the balcony, a small table is set with linens and more rose petals with his acoustic guitar leaning casually against one of the legs.
My eyes widen while I take in everything, my mouth opening and closing, but no words come out.
He gently pulls me toward the table, sliding a chair out with a slightly shaky hand.
“My lady,” he says with a crooked smile, dipping his head in an exaggerated bow.
I sink slowly into the wooden seat, still trying to wrap my head around everything, but just too scared to ask out loud in case I ruin anything.
He quickly rounds the table and lowers himself into the opposite chair, and I just sit there, completely stunned and staring at every single move he makes.
He clears his throat, his eyes flicking from me to the floor and back again.
“I’m not really sure how to do this,” he admits, with an awkward, light laugh. “So I’m just going to show you something first.”
He leans down and gently wraps his fingers around the neck of his Taylor acoustic—almost identical to the one mounted on the wall of my aunt’s house. He rests it against his knee, takes a breath, and strums a chord so beautiful it actually takes my breath away.
My eyes lock onto his hands, completely transfixed as they move up the neck with the kind of ease that only comes from muscle memory. Like he’s played this song a hundred times.
Then he starts singing, and I’m so utterly, completely swoon, I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.
“ I don’t know why,
I don’t know how,
all I know is when I’m with you,
I don’t think.
My thoughts swirl like a vicious cycle,
but with you,
I don’t think. ”
His voice is soft but steady, and the lyrics, god, the lyrics. They feel like they were written straight out of my own head. Like he somehow cracked me open and turned all of my messy, overthinking worries into something truly beautiful.
When he strums the final note, it lingers in the air between us. I don’t even realize I’m crying until I feel the tears drip off my chin.
He carefully places the guitar back where it was, then reaches across the table, his fingers wrapping gently around mine.
“I know this was never meant to become something serious between us, Allie,” he begins. “And I tried like hell to ignore every feeling that kept sneaking in, but I just… I can’t anymore.”
My free hand instinctively reaches for my mouth, covering it while I try like hell to steady my breathing.
He squeezes my hand, drawing my attention back to him.
“And I’m sorry,” he says, his head tilting slightly. “I tried really hard not to fall in love with you.”
He laughs under his breath, shaking his head like he still can’t believe it himself. “But I did. I love all of you, Al. The good, the bad— and the fact that you don’t like tea is pretty freakin’ bad.”
I laugh, the sound coming out shaky as the tears keep falling, but there’s no stopping them now.
When I look into his gorgeous blue eyes, all I can see are the unshed tears glimmering like marbles. Before I can even think, my hand flies up to cradle his face, running my thumbs down both cheeks in hopes it’ll somehow soothe him.
“Roses always reminded me of my mum,” he continues shakily. “And with them came so much grief—the grief of losing her, of feeling like I wasn’t the son she deserved.” He pauses, shaking his head. Then he lays his hands gently on top of mine.
“But now?” His breath catches, then he lets it out in a quick sigh. “Now, when I think of roses, I can’t help but smile. Because they smell like you , Al. Anything that reminds me of you, which, honestly, is everything, makes me smile again.”
His voice lowers. “I don’t think you realize what kind of hole I was in when I first showed up here. I was lost, walking in the shadows of my former self… until you crashed into my life. Literally. ”
I can’t help but laugh again. Knowing the two of us are here because of my clumsiness. The most humiliating—and yet, most beautiful—thing I’ve ever done, aside from having my girls.
I quickly leave my seat, rounding the table in a blur, and slide into his lap. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I bury my face into his shoulder and breathe him in.
“I know this won’t be easy,” he murmurs. “It’ll be the exact opposite of that. But something tells me this is worth it. I don’t want to hide what we have anymore, Al. The last three weeks have been hell— hell —not being able to brag to anyone who would listen.”
I lift my head slowly, brushing my fingers down his rough cheek, tracing the outline of his jaw with my thumb. “I don’t want to hide either,” I whisper, shaking my head. “But what are we supposed to do? Travel back and forth? How does this even work without setting ourselves up for failure?”
He cradles my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks before he presses a soft kiss to my lips. “We’ll figure that out,” he says quietly. “Because I want you, Allie. Like I’ve never wanted anything in my life.”
Another tear slips down my cheek, but he quickly catches it with his thumb, wiping it away as if it never existed.
“I want this too,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I mean it when I say I love you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work and prove to you that it’s worth it.”
He presses his head against the top of mine, holding me like that for several minutes, and all I can do is breathe him in. Just the two of us, wrapped up in this moment at a table he set up for us... to tell me he loves me.
That’s what everyone deserves, isn’t it? To find their person. Someone who goes out of their way to show you how they feel. Not someone who hides behind excuses, pretending you don’t matter so you’re left questioning your worth.
Suddenly, I realize we’re exactly where we belong, and it’s like a fog has lifted around us.
Does it feel too soon to put such a big name to our feelings? Maybe the tiniest part of me would agree. But right now, all I know is how much he makes my heart sing and how empty it feels when we’re apart. I don’t want to return to my life with only these memories of him. I want everything .
The scariest part of all this though?
It’s not the travel, or how we’re going to figure everything out, or him meeting Charlotte and Lydia. Because I know it’ll work itself out somehow.
It’s telling our friends the truth. Letting them know we’ve been lying to them for the last three weeks.
Now that? That’s scary.