Chapter Thirty
Sailor
I am not taking summer classes. I’m not. I wanted to, so I could finish this degree sooner, but I need a break. After taking six classes, I could use an entire year off. That’s obviously not going to happen, so a couple months will have to do.
Finals are in a week, and I’m preparing as best I can. I’ve studied more than I ever have in all my life, and even though Girls Night had rules, they’ve gone out the window because we need all the time we can get.
Just one more week and this will be over.
Only, it isn’t the only thing I’m looking forward to.
I ran into Orville at a coffee shop recently.
I’m still not sure if it was planned, because I’m starting to think his stalking skills are worse—better?
—than Jaxon’s. But I got more information from him and made sure everything he gave me was accurate.
He felt ridiculous for everything he said, and even seemed a little scared.
He made me pinky-promise, yes pinky promise, that I would never tell Jaxon where I got this information from.
I did it, because why not? The less Jaxon knows, the better.
But the best piece of information I got out of that run-in with Orville, was that he heard that Jaxon was going on a trip, and so his apartment would be empty for a few days.
He knew this because he was asked to change some grades in the system and add a note in there, excusing him from missing classes.
Orville seems to be Jaxon’s go-to for information and school adjustments… and I guess he’s mine now too.
I can’t be sure that what Orville says is accurate, or that Jaxon will even be gone. I have no reason to trust him, but he’s my best bet at finding Jaxon. And right now, that’s exactly what I need. Two can play at this game. I’m going to find out for myself if the info I have is right.
Part of me, a very tiny part of me, hoped that Sam was wrong.
That what I saw in the video was wrong. But I know I’m not.
All those months I cried and stressed and was upset about Jaxon completely ignoring me, yet…
he hasn’t been. He’s been around the entire time.
Not only as himself but as someone else too.
I want to be mad, but I can’t help but feel… relief.
Still, he hasn’t made himself known, so what even is this? Is it just an obsession? Is it more? If so, why hasn’t he spoken to me? Why is he okay watching from the shadows?
Well, he’s going to get a taste of his own medicine, thanks to his friend Orville.
The apartment isn’t like anything I expected.
I’m not quite sure what I pictured, but with every photo that Jaxon sent of himself in the beginning, I’d formed an idea around how he lived.
I assumed it was messy, considering his bed was a mess all the time, but I now realize that’s a ridiculous assumption to make about someone’s way of life. All on how their bed looks?
The apartment is spacious and tidy. The furniture is expensive and new, like it’s hardly used. I smell him the moment I walk in, but the bedroom… I lean against the wall, my eyes falling closed as I allow his scent to take me over. A scent that is so uniquely him that I’d recognize anywhere.
After a moment of talking myself out of being turned on, which didn’t really do much, I move further into the bedroom and sit on the bed.
I lie down, in the spot I assume he does, considering the chargers are on this side of the bed.
When my head hits the pillow, his scent is stronger, mixed with a bit of sweat.
I turn my face into it and inhale. Calmness washes over me, like he’s the key to my sanity, and I give myself a few moments to enjoy it.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way.
It’s nice. Maybe even a little addicting.
It’s exactly why I fell so hard for him in the first place.
And the more I think about him, the more time passes between us, the more the scary stuff doesn’t seem to matter.
And that’s scary for a whole other reason.
Jaxon has secrets. He has demons. He is capable of killing without batting an eye.
That’s… a lot.
But is it too much?
Before I get lost in this moment, and decide to not leave at all, I get out of the bed and go back to the living room to grab my backpack from the couch.
I unzip it, and pull out the small box that Orville gave me.
Then I spend the next hour hiding little cameras around his house.
Kitchen. Living room. Bathroom. Bedroom.
The one in the bathroom takes the most time to install because I can’t figure out where I want it to go.
The best angle doesn’t have anywhere for me to hide it, so I have to go with what will work.
If he finds it… this won’t be fun for long.
When every camera is in place, I drop onto his couch and pull up the app that Orville installed on my phone. I am certain if Jaxon finds out that he did this, he’ll kill him. Which is why he made me pinky-promise not to say anything.
Though… maybe he’ll find it romantic, on my part, at least. Who knows?
What is wrong with me? Why do I care what Jaxon finds romantic?
Because I miss him.
It’s hitting me hard. Being here. Smelling him. Seeing how he lives. Knowing he’s been so close, but hiding from me… it hurts. It’s so fucking much, and now I’m angry.
All the cameras pop up on the screen, and I see myself sitting on his couch. The light glints off the tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Well, at least the quality is good.”
I close out of it and get up, then wander around the house. I open cabinets, the fridge, drawers… it’s all mostly empty. Just enough for him to get by. It’s sad, yet something tells me this is how he wants it. Jaxon is the kind of guy who gets what he wants and he doesn’t suffer.
I go back to the bedroom one last time. I look under the bed—nothing.
I dig through his drawers and the only interesting thing I find is my panties in his drawer. Well, I assume they’re mine. They look familiar and are in the right size… and it’s just the thing he would do.
I never once, not for a single second, believed Jaxon was cheating on me. Sure, there was that situation with Mindy but that was fear talking. I was scared. But I don’t think I ever actually believed it.
Going through his closet is the last thing I do.
I shove hangers aside and look through clothes.
There are nice things on the far right—button downs and slacks and a few ties.
On the left are T-shirts, jeans, and some sweatshirts.
I pull a sleeve up and bring it to my nose.
Once again my eyes fall closed. I tug it from the hanger and stuff it into my backpack, and then I leave.
All that’s left to do now is wait.