19. 19
Allie
I never thought one of the biggest arguments I’d have with my friends would be about how we were getting to New York.
A once in a lifetime opportunity in a state that’s only maybe eight hours away—yet somehow, the argument lasted over three full days.
That was until I finally had enough of other people making decisions for me and I said we were driving.
Why spend over three hundred dollars on airfare when we have a perfectly good vehicle big enough to fit everyone?
Of course I understood why they didn’t want to drive.
They weren’t trying to be difficult—they were just trying to protect me from the whirlwind they knew my mind would be in.
But me, being stubborn the way I am, said I would be fine.
That it wouldn’t happen. I even brought up the Boston trip, thinking it would help my cause.
Yeah… that was a complete and utter lie.
The bumper-to-bumper traffic had my nerves stretched so thin, I was physically fighting myself not to beg Jax to take the next exit and head straight for Logan Airport the second we crossed into Massachusetts.
I’m also half convinced I broke his hand from squeezing it so hard.
And he didn’t say a word about it. Just let me hold on as tight as I needed to, like he always does.
But the second the sun disappeared into the night, and everyone fell asleep, I could finally feel my shoulders start to relax and my breaths coming in easier. Now it’s nearly one in the morning, and the SUV is quiet. It’s just me, Jax, and whatever’s playing softly on the radio.
I watch a single raindrop trail down my window when I feel Jax lift my hand. Glancing over, I watch as he softly presses his lips to the back of it, then gives me one of his crooked smiles.
“So,” he says, eyes already back on the road, “have you ever been to New York?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Always wanted to, but Mom said it wasn’t safe,” I say, letting out a quiet laugh. “What about you?”
He nods. “My father was from upstate, so we went almost every year until I was about Charlotte’s age.
” He smiles, but it fades just as quickly, his fingers tightening around mine for a split second before loosening again.
“After that, not really. Not until now. And then again when we go on tour,” he adds simply, as if he didn’t just look like he ran over a puppy a few seconds ago.
When what he says finally registers, and my heart slowly sinks at the reminder of the tour coming up.
Because that means in less than three months, he won’t be just a phone call away anymore.
He’ll be states away, stuffed in a van, moving from venue to venue.
And I’ll be here, cheering him on from a distance as his world gets bigger—and mine feels like it’s shrinking.
He’ll be in new cities, jumping into a whole new crowd, and even meeting new people. People who will be there for him in ways that I won’t be able to. Every win he has, someone else will be the first to know. Same goes for his bad days.
Someone else will be there for all of it.
And at least a few of them will be women. Beautiful women who won’t come with emotional baggage, and won’t hold him back from living the dream he’s worked so hard for. The one that’s right there, within his reach. They'll fit effortlessly into his world while I’m still learning how to exist in it.
I’m spiraling so bad, I don’t even realize Jax isn’t holding my hand anymore—until I feel his fingers squeeze lightly around my thigh.
“You okay? You went quiet there,” he says, his voice low.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I glance over, but don’t quite meet his eyes.
He shoots me a side-eye with a raised brow. “I do know what that’s code for, love.”
I bite the inside of my cheek—not hard enough to draw blood, but just enough to will the tears to stay where the hell they are.
Another squeeze. “You wanna talk about it when we get there?”
“I’m really okay. I just get in my own head sometimes,” I admit softly.
He chuckles. “That’s funny—’cause you’re always in mine,” he says, tossing me a wink.
I roll my eyes, but the corners of my mouth twitch before I can stop them.
He catches it instantly. “Ah-ha,” he says. “There it is. A smile.”
I shake my head, trying to hide my still growing grin beneath the sleeve of my shirt.
“No, but seriously, Al,” he says, quieter this time. “Try to let me in there once in a while. Stop trying to fight these demons alone when you know you have me to unleash.”
The way he says unleash makes me raise an eyebrow as I glance over at him, not even trying to hide my confusion.
He has a smirk plastered on his face as he peers at me out of the corner of his eye and flashes his entire bicep like he’s Johnny Bravo.
And that does it. I lose it. Full-on cackling as I reach over to gently pull his arm back down, just as someone rustles in the back.
I lean in over the center console, whispering, “You’re going to wake everyone up.”
He snickers. “Good.”
Tilting my head, I look up at him. “Now, Jaxon, that’s not very nice.”
“Fair enough,” he says, pretending to be serious, even as a smile tugs at his mouth. “We should just let them sleep in their seats. They wouldn’t want to come inside this place anyway.”
“Come inside?”
I turn to the window—and my jaw drops.
A massive hotel looms over us, easily twice the size of the one Jax and the guys stay at. Tall archways frame the entrance, with lights so bright you’d swear it was already morning. Big glass doors rotate in slow motion—something I can already see James getting stuck in for the next half hour.
There’s even red carpeting lining the front stairs, for crying out loud.
Honestly? It looks like a damn castle.
The second everyone piles out, I have to bite back a laugh.
They’re all half-awake, practically leaning on each other just to stay upright. Especially James. He’s practically still drooling on Ana’s shoulder while he stands there swaying dangerously.
We hastily grab our bags and make our way up the few red carpeted steps.
The second we walk through the doors, I’m just as awestruck as I was outside.
The entire entrance is lined in marble from floor to ceiling.
A massive crystal chandelier hangs overhead, and the light catches on every crystal, sparkling like glitter.
And behind the receptionist? There’s a literal waterfall pouring from the wall.
Am I dreaming?
The receptionist doesn’t seem to think so. She looks a little too used to it, leaning back in her office chair, lazily swinging back and forth with her phone practically glued to her face. Her long, jet-black hair is pin-straight, and the only sound I can hear is the smacking of her bubble gum.
I let the guys handle check-in and hang back with the Sleepy Crew.
The second they approach the desk, she drops her phone like it just burned her and stands up straight. For a split second, she looks startled—like she knows she just messed up and is about to get fired. But then she gets a look at the guys, and her face relaxes. A little too quickly.
She holds up both hands, palms out, as a grin takes over her entire face. “Wait, wait. Don’t tell me,” she says, leaning into the counter for a closer look. “Jax Owens and Gareth Chase?” she adds, pointing to each one as she names them.
“You guessed it,” Jax says softly.
And God do I wish I could see his face. Of course, all I get is the back of his head and the way her eyes light up into literal cartoon hearts.
But I’m not the jealous type… am I?
“Right on,” she says, nodding along. “Well, my name’s Carly, and welcome to The Monarch Hotel. Tell me”—she leans in closer—“are you guys here for pleasure? Or business?”
My eyes narrow as a scoff slips past my lips. I glance around to see if anyone else is catching any of this, but of course, Ana, James, and Desmond are basically asleep in a piggy pile on the loveseat. And then Nora? She’s glued to her phone. At almost two in the morning.
I watch as Gareth shrugs and turns his head to Jax.
“I don’t know, mate. Probably both, yeah?”
Jax doesn’t say a word as Carly smirks, leans in a little closer, and grabs a sticky note from her desk. She scribbles something quickly, grabs the keycards and slides it all to Jax.
“My roommate’s a vlogger. She runs this channel called Feedback Junkies. If you guys want to hit me up while you’re here, we’ll get you in for an interview,” she says, sucking her teeth with a cheeky grin.
And if I thought my blood was boiling before, that little suck of her teeth sends it right over the edge.
“Thanks, Carly,” Jax says. He pauses as he looks down, reading the paper she handed him. “We’ll, uh, think about it.”
The guys spin around, and I watch Jax fold the note carefully, passing it to Gareth. He leans in, murmurs something quick, then heads back to me. My chest tightens, and suddenly I don’t want to be here anymore—I just want to go home.
My hand finds the handle of my suitcase, and I grab it tight, biting the inside of my cheek to try and keep my mouth shut. It’s not Jax’s fault or problem, anyway.
Just as I’m about to lift the bag, I feel Jax’s hand close over mine, gently taking the suitcase from me.
He winks, shaking his head slowly, and for some reason that upsets me even more.
I say nothing. Instead, I turn and walk away, passing right by Carly’s desk.
I make sure to shoot her my best mean mug—even though it probably just looks like I’m constipated.
After what feels like forty minutes—because this hotel is basically a maze—we finally find our room and pile inside. The second the door closes, Jax unzips his jacket and slowly spins toward me.
“Alright, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.
I shrug, then plop onto the bed and start kicking off my shoes. “Nothing,” I answer flatly.
He kneels in front of me, slipping a finger under my chin and gently lifting it—forcing our eyes to meet. “This right here?” he says, then slowly shakes his head. “We need open communication, love. From both sides.”
I swallow hard and give a small nod. “I’m just…
scared,” I admit, with another shrug. “I’ve never been the jealous type.
But with you… I am.” I pause, trying to find the right words.
“This won’t be the last time a woman leans in too close…
or slips you her number… or invites you somewhere you can’t say no to. ”
He laughs. And I don’t think his laugh has ever pissed me off as much as it does right now.
My eyes widen as the lump in my throat grows.
Does he think I’m overreacting? Is this just a joke to him?
“I’m sorry, Al. I’m not laughing at you, I swear,” he says, voice softer now. He shakes his head and cups both my cheeks gently before kissing me tenderly.
When our lips part, his eyes find mine again, hands still warm on my face.
“You really think any of that’d work on me?” he asks, brows raised. “That I’d get offered some interview and be thinkin’ about shagging someone else instead?”
A snort slips past my lips—because yeah, it does sound ridiculous. Jax would avoid most conversations entirely if given the choice.
“Exactly,” he says, with a small smile. “There’s only one person meant for me, Allie. Always has been. Always will be.”
He doesn’t let go of my face right away. Instead, he holds it gently, his eyes tracing every feature like he’s trying to burn this moment into memory. And maybe he is, because he knows how hard it is for me to voice these things.
But with him, it’s easier.
I know he wouldn’t do anything he’d regret.
Now I just have to trust that he won’t forget that either.