14. Jax
jax
I find her on the back patio after her set. It is a closed space for her to get some privacy, and Mitch had to okay me coming back here. She is sitting on an outdoor couch, drinking water, and talking to Juniper, who is moving her hands around excitedly.
“That was probably my most favorite night ever singing here.” I hear Juniper say, both women oblivious to my presence. There are some smokers lingering on the outside of the gates that enclose the patio, but no one seems to be bothering Felicity.
“You have some serious talent, Juniper. You could take it far.”
Juniper blushes and brushes some hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. I kind of like this town.”
“It’s a good one,” Felicity says, and I feel my heart squeeze. “But hey, I came back. You can too.”
Juniper blows out a breath and looks at her. “I have some things that keep me here.”
Felicity tilts her head, but I can’t see her expression. “A guy?”
A blush finds its way to Juniper’s cheeks, and I smile slightly. She is a few years younger than me, but she is a pure soul, innocent, has nothing bad to say to anyone she comes into contact with. Seeing her blush about a guy makes her all the sweeter. “It’s not really like that.”
“Well, I can understand not wanting to leave for that reason,” Felicity says, setting my veins on fire.
She could? She could understand wanting to stay and not chasing your dreams because of being in love? It didn’t feel like it.
I finally clear my throat, impatience throttling my chest, and Juniper’s eyes flick to me. She quickly stands and waves nervously. “Hey-a, Jax.”
Felicity turns in her seat, readjusting to see me, and gives me a kind smile that, frankly, I don’t deserve. Not after how I spoke with her the last time.
“Hey, nice set out there,” I say, feeling uncomfortable but meaning it. I had wanted to support Felicity every time she sang throughout her career, and I was experiencing a sense of loss that this was the first time in twelve years I’d heard her sing live.
“Thanks. Well, it was all due to Felicity,” Juniper says, humble as always.
“That is so not true,” Felicity argues fiercely. “You held your own. And you have the ear and vocals for this career, Juniper.”
“Thanks, Felicity.” She sighs and slaps her thigh with the palm of her hand. “Well, I’d better get back in there.”
She squeezes by me, giving my arm a pat, and I briefly wonder how much she’s heard about my and Felicity’s relationship. She’s only been around the last four years or so, so there was a lot of life that I lived here without the Weaver sisters.
No doubt that Logan has told Thea everything.
I step further onto the patio, breathing in the cool night air and trying to get ahold of my emotions. It wasn’t easy. I felt like I was choking on the need to lash out, to say everything on my mind that I’ve felt for the last twelve years.
Then I look to Felicity, her face calm and devoid of emotion, and I realize she is mad at me. Mad for what I said, for what I accused, for what I threw in her face.
“I’m sorry.” Guilt and remorse hit my chest like a stone, and I grapple with the words I need to say to make it better. To make it right.
“It’s fine.”
Fuck. That word. I may have been slightly inexperienced with relationships, but I have a mother and a niece, and I know that when they say “fine,” it’s anything but.
“I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way back at the house.” Your house , I want to say, but the words won’t come. “I was letting my emotions get the best of me, and I took it out on you.”
Her eyes finally meet mine, and for a few seconds, she takes me in, watching me unashamedly. “I deserve the harsh words, Jax.”
“No, you don’t.” I insist, feeling like a real piece of shit for letting her think that.
“I’m the one who left.” She nods her head, resigned that her station in my life is as my enemy, as if my saying what I did is normal and okay.
When it really fucking isn’t.
“That doesn’t excuse my poor behavior,” I say, leaning against a post. “We were eighteen, City Girl. I shouldn’t have held on to hating the fact that you got out there and chased your dream.”
“It’s fine?—”
“No,” I state, putting a firm wall behind the words and staring into her eyes. A hint of surprise was creeping onto her features, and I was glad to see her feel something toward me.
“Fine,” she says again, and I open my mouth to speak when a smile curves her lip. “You’re right. You were an asshole.”
I laugh and shake my head, glad to hear her honesty. This is the City Girl I knew.
We fall into a comfortable silence, me not knowing what to say, and judging by the look on her face, she was tired and ready for the night to end.
I just had one question.
Clearing my throat, I wait until her eyes are on me again before I ask, “Did you come back?”
Surprise laces her eyes, and she opens her mouth to speak before clamping it shut.
I step toward the couch, my heart pounding as I sit, facing her, needing her full attention on me when I get her to admit it. “Did you come back to Acton that summer?”
Felicity’s green eyes search my face. Wonder at how I knew is written there, and she gives a small shrug. “Regret is a fickle thing, huh?”
“Regret?” I ask, my voice hoarse as I try to make sense of any of this. As far as I had known, up until tonight, that is, she left me here at the end of our senior year, right after we graduated, went to Hollywood, and never came home.
When she saw her folks, it was because they went to her.
Her eyes become glossy, and I have to tighten my muscles to hold myself back from taking her into my arms and holding her tight. It’s been so long since I’ve felt her body against mine, and I crave it more than I could ever admit.
“I…” She pauses, licking her lips before continuing.
“After I left and got to Hollywood, I thought that I would be able to pick up work and move away from everything I ever knew. I thought that I could handle being away from everyone, from you. I thought I was doing the right thing, you know, chasing my dream.” She shakes her head, her blonde hair falling around her.
“I knew that if I stayed, I’d never leave. ”
“But you did leave,” I state the obvious, my brain trying to find a way to understand this.
“I did.” A tear slips over her cheek, and I reach forward without thinking, wiping it away. “I left, but I couldn’t stomach it and came back after a few weeks.”
My stomach caves in on itself, my heart rate ticking up at an alarming pace, and I have to sit back to regain control of myself. “You came back.”
She nods, wiping her eyes. “I did. I thought if I begged and pleaded that you might forgive me for what I did, that you might…” She trails off, not finishing her sentence.
“But you were gone.” She nods, a forced smile on her face.
“You changed your number, which was, of course, fine, and went off to rodeo with Mitch.”
“I was gone,” I repeat, my monotone voice sounding unnatural to my own ears. “I left.”
“I know.” She sighs, and her hand tightens on the water bottle that is in her grip. “It’s fine. It was all my fault. I left and didn’t contact you. I went off to live my life and thought I could selfishly get back to you and start back up again.”
My heart pounds, and I keep my gaze intently on hers. “You wanted me back?” My voice cracks slightly, and I have never felt so out of control with my emotions.
“Of course, Jax. I loved you.” She gives a sad little laugh, her eyes meeting mine again. “You were my high school sweetheart, the only boy I ever loved, and you loved me for me. I was a fool to throw that away.”
I don’t know what to say to that. All I want to do is lean forward, take her lips with my own, and show her how much I haven’t stopped loving her.
The thought gives me pause. Actually, the thought makes my heart stop in my chest for a moment before starting back up again.
Never stopped loving her. The thought repeats itself over and over again until I open my mouth to tell her, to spill the truth, to be completely fucking vulnerable, knowing she has the power to hurt me.
But she beats me to it, sitting up and standing from the couch. “Well, I have to get home.” She turns to me and gives a sad smile as I sit there frozen. “It was nice seeing you, Jax.”
Felicity gives me a beat, two beats, before she nods and turns away, heading back into the bar.
The sound from the patrons inside hits us before the door snaps shut behind her, and still, I sit.
Unmoving, unable to form a sentence or, hell, even a word that would make sense of everything I’ve found out tonight.
All I know is…I don’t know anything.