Chapter 3 #2
The elevator takes us down to the lobby, and we step out into the morning. She falls into step beside me on the sidewalk, her arms loose at her sides. The emotional distance between us dissolves somewhere between the building’s entrance and the end of the block.
“This is nice.” She tilts her face toward the sun for a beat. “I forget there’s an entire city out here when I’m buried in my sketchbook.”
“You’ve always worked that way. Completely inside whatever you’re building.”
She glances at me sideways. “You say that like it’s a flaw.”
“I say it like it’s a fact.”
“Are you calling me a workaholic?” She glares, but there’s a twinkle in her eyes that tells me she’s not angry. She’s being playful.
God, I love it when she’s relaxed like this.
That thought only reminds me of why she’s so chill. La Jolla. I stare at the sidewalk before me, trying to forget I’ve lost her.
“Jax?”
I pop my head up and smile her way. “So, you’re ready to start calling me Jax again?”
“Um… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I did that.”
“No, it’s fine. You only call me that in private. We didn’t want your dad to scold you for calling me that again, so it was just between us. An inside joke, if you will.”
“Oh, I get it now.” She scans ?the space before her, seemingly considering what I just said. She glances at me. “Is it okay if I call you Jax? I mean, when it’s just us?”
A surge of butterflies releases in my chest. “Is that what you want?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Are you sure about that?”
“Maybe.” Her face turns red. “Callum might not like it. Especially if he thinks it’s something just between us.”
I nod and remain silent as my hopes fall by the wayside and get run over by a passing truck. We stroll for another minute or two, not saying anything. She finally breaks the quiet.
“You seem a little…” She tilts her head like she’s searching for the word. “I don’t know. Sad, maybe?”
The bakery is half a block ahead, and I keep us marching toward it. I contemplate being honest. It always worked before, so I give her the truth.
“I just had some memories come up this morning.”
“Like?”
A beat passes before I answer. “I was remembering a time with my...girlfriend.”
She slows slightly. “You mean the one you lost?”
“Yes.”
She’s quiet for a few steps, and the restraint tells me she understands the territory is fragile.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She shakes her head. “You don’t have to. I just… You’ve been so good to me, and I realize I don’t know much about you and your personal life.”
The bakery door is ahead. I pull it open and let her through first. Warm butter and espresso wrap around us as we step inside.
She moseys toward the display case without hesitation, taking everything in with the same focused curiosity she brings to everything. The ease of it pulls tight across my rib cage.
After she takes the usual five minutes to decide what she wants, we order and find a seat while we wait for our order to be ready. I dive right in, praying for something to break open between us.
“She was curious.” I sit across from her. “About everything. She asked questions other people were too cautious to ask.”
Livianna peers over at me with ?genuine interest in what I’m saying. “She sounds brave.”
“She didn’t always see herself that way.”
“What did she see?”
I pick up an advertisement that’s on the table to give myself a second to center myself. Being with her and talking about her when she was with me has my stomach twisting and turning.
I take a measured breath before answering. “She saw someone still becoming who she was meant to be. Funny thing is, she was so damn smart and motivated. She didn’t need to be anything more than what she already was.”
Livianna’s quiet for a moment, and when she speaks, her voice has dropped to a softer tone. “She was lucky to have someone who saw that in her.”
The words land deep in my heart, and I’m not prepared for it. My nose tingles and my eyes want to water, but I stop getting emotional by going back to the facts.
She isn’t mine anymore. The agony of that is more than I can take. She’s fucking marrying a man I helped put right in front of her.
She places her folded arms on the table. “Will you tell me something about her?”
“Like what?”
“Tell me about a special time you spent with her. Let that moment live again.”
If only…
There are a hundred I could give her. I choose the one that still lives closest to the surface.
“We were in Paris.” The memory warms my insides. “I took her to this little restaurant in the 8th arrondissement. There was nothing remarkable about the place, but she ordered in French without hesitating. When the waiter complimented her pronunciation, she lit up.”
Livianna smiles and motions for me to continue.
I do. “She tried to hide it. She always tried to hide when something made her happy, like joy was something she had to apologize for.”
The bakery hums around us, and then the clerk calls out our name and pushes our order across the counter. We get our items and sit again.
Livianna takes the lid off her yogurt parfait and stirs the contents. “Tell me more.”
“Like what?” I take a sip of my coffee.
She bites down on her lip. “How did you meet?”
I shift in my seat, not expecting that question. “Well, let’s see. She was ornery, and I was truly terrified of her.”
The laugh that burst from her mouth has me pulling back, wide-eyed.
“What, Livianna? I can’t be afraid of something?”
“No. Jaxon Crowne is never scared of anything.”
I take the opening with my heart lunging for her. “How do you know that?”