19. Jax
jax
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Felicity says, stuffing another fry into her mouth. The girl is going to town tonight. When she ordered from Clyde’s granddaughter, who apparently had taken over the diner from her grandfather a few years back, she ordered half the menu.
There is currently a large burger sitting in front of her, a double order of fries, a large strawberry milkshake, and an order of onion rings.
“Nothing, baby, just haven’t seen anyone eat like this since high school,” I say, smirking around my own bite of fry. My order had been considerably less, but I wasn’t complaining.
“Hey, no judgment. I don’t know the next time I’ll be back here.” She brings her hands out to the sides and breathes it in, closing her eyes. “I’m reveling in the nostalgia and want to take advantage of it.”
“I’ll bring you back whenever you want.” The words are out before I can think better of it, and I’m rewarded with a very kind smile.
“That’s nice, Jax, but I highly doubt you’ll want to.”
I frown at her answer and immediately go to refute that statement. “I?—”
“How’s everything tasting?” Lydia, Clyde’s granddaughter, interrupts with a smile.
She clearly recognizes my date, but hasn’t said a word to her about it.
As a matter of fact, no one has except the guy who is currently sitting over by my brother, and that hadn’t been to get her autograph. He was just stating a fact.
“It is wonderful, Lydia. I am going to devour every last thing,” Felicity says, charming the new owner and getting a beaming smile in reply.
“Great! Well, holler if you need anything at all.” She taps the table and walks off, avoiding walking by my brother’s group except to call out and ask if they were good. She doesn’t walk up to their table, and I’m curious why.
“So when did bullfighting become your thing?” Felicity asks, drawing me back into the conversation. “When we were in high school, you were all about bull riding.”
“Ah, well, I don’t mind bull riding. It’s a lot of work and hard to place well when you’re not as experienced as others,” I say, smiling at her and taking another bite. “But bullfighting kind of came about accidentally.”
“How so?” The woman is eating at a fast pace, but her eyes are latched onto mine, listening intently to every word.
“Well, there was a night that the rodeo clown had taken ill, and they needed someone to fill a spot, so I volunteered.” I shrug, laughing at the memory.
“I didn’t mean for it to become a thing, but I got in front of that crowd and was allowed to really interact and entertain, and it just blossomed into being what I loved. ”
Felicity’s eyes are alight with happiness, and I wish I could freeze this moment. “That’s incredible, Jax. You found your purpose.”
“I suppose I did,” I answer, nodding my head.
“That makes me so happy. So you went from rodeo clown to bullfighter.” She waves a fry, urging me to continue. “How?”
“There was one night that I was clowning around…” I smirk at my pun, and she rolls her eyes before smiling at me.
“And there was a guy in the crowd who had a whole business of training bullfighters. He came up to me after the rodeo and asked if I was interested. I wasn’t at first. I didn’t think I wanted to put more stock into rodeo.
” I pause thinking of what pushed me. It was seeing Felicity on a movie poster, actually.
I saw that and knew that she’d moved on and going home, finding her again, wasn’t likely.
But I wasn’t about to tell her that. Not yet.
“But it was potentially a lot of money, so I went and did it. I did some tours with the group and then became pretty damn good at it.”
“Until?” she asks, her lip in her mouth with worry, but her whole attention on me.
“Until one night a few months back when I thought the bull was out of the pen when my show was over, but the cowboys didn’t get him out, and I foolishly turned my back.” I tell her the story, the memory of that night crashing through me.
The hits I took, the sounds of bones cracking, the snap of metal against skin. I shudder and shove the thought of that night away. The night that changed my life.
“Jax.” Her eyes mist over, and she reaches across the table. I gladly accepted her hand. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
I shrug, rubbing my thumb over her knuckle. “Nature of the business.” And it had been time to end my career, to get out of the spotlight where I was too accessible.
“Still,” she whispers, and I nod my head, not sure what else to say.
“Well, I guess I can be glad for the timing,” I say, looking around at where I am. “I’m here with you now, so I have no complaints.”
She shakes her head, her emotions still on high alert. “You’re too nice to me.”
“Felicity, I’ve never felt the need to be mean to you.” I start, shaking my head. “When we were kids, when we finished high school, I had this picture-perfect image in my head. But if we had gone down that road then, we wouldn’t be here now.”
“You think? I mean, I loved you so much. I didn’t want to leave you behind. It just felt like we were heading for something so serious.” She sighs, placing a hand on her cheek. “My leaving really didn’t have anything to do with loving you. I broke my own heart when I did it.”
“Was there…” I pause, licking my lips and trying to think of a good way to phrase the question. The one question I’d been wondering about for years. “Was there something that I did that made you make the decision on your own?”
She shakes her head immediately, squeezing the hand she was still holding. “Not at all, Jax. Nothing. I swear, you were the best boyfriend in the world. You were my best friend. I just…I guess I just panicked.”
I nod, thinking that through. “It hurt,” I admit, knowing I need to get it off my chest if we stand any chance of coming out of this in a relationship. “You leaving—it hurt more than I ever thought it could.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. I was stupid. I was eighteen and inexperienced.”
“You’ve never been stupid. And obviously, it worked out for you.”
“And you,” she says, imploring me to agree probably. “You’ve made such a name for yourself.”
“Can I ask another question?”
“Of course,” she answers immediately.
“How come you didn’t answer my letters?” The question is out there, and I can’t pull it back in. I wait, watching as her eyes widen in confusion.
“What letters?”
I pause and think about writing those, about sitting in the back of someone’s trailer or truck, writing out little love letters filled with hope for reconciliation. “I sent you some letters.” Granted, I didn’t send a return address because I didn’t have one, but still.
“Jax.” She shakes her head. “I never got any letters. Where did you send them?”
“Your folks,” I answer, then shake my head. “I’m sure they tossed them by now.”
“Jax, oh my gosh.” She presses a hand to her forehead. “I feel horrible.”
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I say, shrugging off her concern. It’s not like anything I had to say then could change anything that happened.
I stare at her now, her brows bent in frustration, and smile at her, knowing that she’s thinking over every tiny detail, wondering if she somehow missed the fact that I sent letters. Her blonde hair is slipping out of her braid, and I marvel at how fucking beautiful she is.
I love that she still looks like my City Girl, that even though she’s spent years in the spotlight, dealing with assholes who watch her every move, she is still very much the girl I grew up with.
There were times I’d sit back and realize how lucky I was. Even when I was eighteen, I recognized it. When she left, there was a small part of me that wasn’t surprised, that just knew it was a matter of time before she did, and accepted the fact that she’d moved on to bigger and better things.
I have many regrets. One of them is not following her, anyway.
Because I know that if I’d shown up wherever she was and told her I wasn’t leaving until we talked, she wouldn’t have made me leave at all.
Lydia shows up then, smiling gently at the two of us.
Other patrons have come in the door, only to see the Iron Horse group and leave, making Lydia sigh in frustration.
I could see it from where I sat, watching my brother sit there without a care in the world while people shrank back in fear from just the sight of them.
“How was everything?” she asks, keeping a professional head and starting to clear away items. From where I sit, I can see the head of a chef in the back and no one else, just Lydia.
“Ugh, girl, these milkshakes are now a staple in my diet,” Felicity says, earning a grin from Lydia. “I’m definitely coming back.”
“Really? Aw, I’m so glad.” She looks between us. “I hope we have you both back soon.”
“Don’t worry. This was a regular thing for us back in the day,” I say, digging into my wallet for some cash.
Felicity doesn’t argue or protest my buying dinner, and I feel ten feet tall because I was fully expecting her to fight me on it.
But just like in high school, she smiles gratefully and winks at me when I hand over the hundred-dollar bill.
“Oh, thank you. I’ll go get your change,” Lydia says, the money in one hand and dishes in the other.
“Nah, keep it,” I say, eyeing the food. “It was well worth the money.”
“Wow. I…That’s so kind.” She flusters a little and bids us good night while I wait for Felicity to finish her milkshake.
“That was really nice,” Felicity comments before we stand to leave. She loudly says goodbye to my brother, forcing him to awkwardly wave back, and gives Lydia a hug she definitely does not expect, making her smile broadly as we leave.
There is just something about the woman that makes everyone love her.
I know I do.
I try to push that thought aside, knowing that if I go down that road again, there is a good chance of getting hurt, of allowing my heart to be crushed to dust.
But as I walk her to her door that night, as I wait for her to find her key in her always oversized bag and then look back up at me with those entrancing green eyes, nothing could stop me from pressing my mouth to hers.
Nothing could stop my arms from reaching around her body and pulling her tightly against mine, feeling every inch of her warmth seep into me.
The smell of her perfume hits me in the nose and spurs my actions, causing my hand to reach up into her hair and pull her chin up closer to mine, tilting my head to deepen the kiss, and the little moan that leaves her throat makes me wish I’d taken her back to my place instead.
Just when I think to suggest it, the porch lights flicker, making me release a groan at the familiarity of it and Felicity hiss while looking at the door. “I’m thirty, Dad!”
“You still live under my roof, young lady,” he calls back through the closed door.
I look at her, a grin stretching across my lips with her body still pressed to mine, and she looks back at me, unable to hold back the laugh that escapes.
“Just like old times, huh?” she asks, reaching up to scratch at my back, the exact same way she used to do, and I wish like hell I’d taken her to my apartment.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I tell her, seeing uncertainty slip into her expression.
“Jax—”
“Tomorrow.” I interrupt, not wanting to hear the excuses, not wanting to end this night on some fight, just wanting one thing in my life to go well.
Finally, she relents, letting me go, and nods. “Okay,” she whispers, a sweet smile gracing her lips. “See you then.”