46. Jaxon
JAXON
Ispent the night in my truck outside her apartment and didn’t sleep a wink. I was hoping Tripp would step foot back on her property because then all bets would be off.
“Morning, Jaxon Wills. Fancy seeing you here,” she singsongs.
“I… would you believe me if I said I had business in town early?” I laugh, knowing I’ve been caught red-handed and everyone will hear about it.
“No chance. However, it was futile because Trippy-poo spent the night in jail. Alan said he’ll go in front of the judge today.”
“Shit. Well, that’s good. I wish someone had told me so I didn’t drink a thousand milligrams of caffeine to stay awake just in case he came back.”
“If you had let someone know you were going to be on a stakeout, we would have,” her song continues.
“How is she, Mol?” I ask. For some reason, she doesn’t seem quite as angry with me as my sister does.
“She’s… shaken. I watched her cycle through a lot of emotions yesterday, and some of them are related to you.
I can’t imagine finding out that my father used me in the way that hers did, on the heels of the shit that happened with you, on the heels of the actual wedding shit.
People have snapped for less, so in that regard, she’s a tough cookie,” she says.
“Speaking of tough cookies, you really pulled a gun on him?” I laugh.
“You fucking know I did. I hate when men try to hurt women.”
Molly is a consummate badass, so I’m sure she would have dropped Tripp without a second thought.
“So you gonna stay here and creep all day?” she laughs.
“I don’t have a plan yet,” I admit. “If he’s getting out today, maybe I should stay around.”
“I don’t think she hates you, Jax,” Molly throws out.
“She has been pretty tight-lipped about you, at least to Hazie and me, but she has said things that make me believe forgiveness isn’t out of the question.
And on that note, you'd better figure out a way to fix this, because I don’t want her to leave. ”
“You and me both, Mol,” I respond. With that, she takes off, and around seven, I decide to walk to get coffee to push my body to its caffeine intake limit, spending the entire stroll wondering about Della.
Wonder is too gentle a word; I’m fucking obsessed with finding out.
It’s been weeks since that day she overheard everything.
Weeks of being sick to my stomach every time I see her, which is nowhere near enough. She’s been avoiding me like the plague.
But today, the need to check in is stronger than my logic.
Maybe the emotionally charged twenty-four hours have suspended my rational brain?
Because having him show up at the ranch is one thing, but to appear at her place and threaten her is another.
He never should have had the opportunity.
Della should have been able to call me, like Lanie did Everest.
Before I can register what a dumb decision this is, I’m walking past my car, coffee in hand, and climbing the same stairs Tripp climbed yesterday.
Like the stalker I’ve become, I stop on the landing and take in the cracks in the glass, noting the dirt remnants on the ground.
He must have thrown a flowerpot or something.
Rage tears through my insides again. I’m about to call the owners, whom I know, and raise hell to get the entire staircase taken out so no one else can use the back stairway, knowing damn well how hypocritical that is, seeing as I’m standing on them.
Before I can make another observation, she enters the kitchen in her volleyball shorts and the tank top that sent me to the moon the first night we were together.
It feels early to be painting, but I know she’s still prepping for the art show, so she’s probably in her art room fifteen hours a day.
With paint streaks all over her, she’s smiling and bopping about to music I can’t hear.
My heart lurches as I recall our night with the paint and when I told her she was mine.
I’m not sure what I expected her to look like, but it’s not this.
She looks so different, so carefree, from every other time I’ve seen her since the incident.
It is nice to see her like this… like she was before.
God, what an idiot I was.
I take a step towards the door, and the movement causes her to look up.
She sees me and screams as if I’m the anti-Christ. To be fair, Tripp was here a little over twelve hours ago, and I concede I should have taken a different, less creepy approach, but there’s no way she would have let me up the front if I rang the buzzer.
Without getting anything on to cover up, she rips the sliding door open with such force that I’m shocked the compromised glass doesn’t shatter.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she demands. I know I shouldn’t look at her. I fucking know I shouldn’t, but every sensible instinct has always turned into background noise when she’s around. Today is no different.
“Please, Della. Talk to me,” I beg.
“I have nothing for you, for your brother, for anyone. I’m here to finish up the art show in a few weeks, and then I’m moving to Custer. At least I have Quinn there.”
My heart jumps out of my chest at the admission because this feels like worst-case scenario. She’s breaking this lease to leave? She can’t... she just can’t.
“I would give anything… anything… if you could give me a chance to explain. Five minutes. Set a timer. Please, Del. I know I don’t deserve it. Please give it to me, anyway.”
I am so overwhelmed with trying to plead my case, that when you add in a healthy dose of complete exhaustion, and enough caffeine to revive the dead, I can’t help the emotion entering my eyes or the tear that falls.
I’ve been so torn up over the whole fucking thing that it’s eating me alive.
Consuming me in a way that I realize makes me question my sanity.
It’s a fucking woman. Women flock to me.
Rationally, I know this could be a fun blip on my timeline, but irrationally, I know that is not how this is supposed to end.
Her eyes track the tear that I let fall, and I see the moment the volume of her rage turns down just the slightest bit.
I close my eyes and beg she’ll agree, but the silence stretches between us.
“You have five minutes, Jaxon Wills,” she concedes.
“I’ve never asked someone to hear me like I’m asking you to hear me right now,” I open my eyes to look at her.
“And there’s a reason for that. I haven’t cared.
Not that I haven’t been with great women…
but you… there is something so different about you, Della.
And I’ve known it since the moment you stood at my garage.
Things progressed between us at a pace I didn’t think was real, but it did.
I will never forgive myself for saying such horrific things about you.
It doesn’t mean much, but I swear to you they were a lie.
I’m mad at my brother, yes, but I’m most mad ay myself for not respecting and defending this thing between us, and hurting you.
This lifetime won’t be enough time to apologize and try to make it right.
I don’t know what to do to convince you that you are so much more to me than the words I said. ”
Her lips roll into her teeth, and she just stares at me.
“Because you never were a bonus, Della. God, I’m sick I ever insinuated that. I’m not sure when or where or how, but you became… you became… so much.”
I stop myself from saying everything.
“If you give me another chance, I promise you will never ever question where you stand in my life, because you’ll be number one. Above everything, without exception.”
“Jax,” she holds up her hand.
I grab it and kiss it, breaking all the rules of this temporary truce. The simple gesture of touching her skin soothes my sanity.
“Jaxon, it’s been a roller coaster for me for a while now.
I’ve been through the wringer, and I’ve done a lot of soul-searching.
I appreciate your apology; I really do. But given everything, I don’t know if Amberheart is the right spot for me.
It’s time for me to learn the art of being alone and not lonely, and that feels impossible with you so close.
Jesus, I mean, I had eyes for you the day of my damn wedding.
That’s not enough time to grieve a failed engagement and relationship… ”
“It wasn’t a true relationship,” I cut her off. “You and I both know that what you and your ex had was a set-up.”
“I know,” she says, looking at the ground. “The fallout never happened because what he and I had wasn’t real. Regardless, I’m not in a space to entertain another person right now. I have to do me, and I’m going to put myself first. For the first time in a long time, I choose me.”
“That’s funny. I choose you, too.”
She gives me a look, but it elicits the tiniest smile… I’ll take it.
“Jokes aside, I’ll wait. And that includes you taking whatever time you see fit,” I say.
“Jax, don’t be foolish. When I say I’m out of the relationship game, believe me that I am out.”
“I don’t care.”
“Don’t say that,” she says.
“But it’s true. So fine, you don’t want a relationship, that’s fine. I’ll still wait for you on the chance you do.”
“And when I leave Amberheart?” she asks.
“If you leave,” I respond.
“When, Jax. When I leave.”
“Well, I’ll figure it out then. Day by day. But I’m not letting you walk without a fight, Tatroe.”
Her smile peeks out again as she shakes her head, and I take it for the fucking victory it is. “You can’t contain me here, Jaxon.”
“Damn right I can’t. Remember, you’re going to rise like the sun. I’m not giving up on you staying here, but if you end up in Custer, it doesn’t matter; I’ll come out there for you. I hear they have good… I’m not sure what the fuck they have, it will have you. And that’s all that matters.”
She bites her bottom lip as she studies my face.
“I’ll leave you with that.” Making a show of checking my watch, I know the best thing is not to overstay my welcome pleading my case. I need to leave her wanting to continue the interaction. “My five minutes are up. Can I hug you goodbye?”
She stares at me like she did when I first arrived, but there’s a softness to her face now, or maybe that’s just resignation knowing I’m not going to go down without a fight.
Or maybe it’s my imagination, and I’m seeing what I want to see.
“A platonic friend hug,” she asks.
“Yes, of course, friend,” I say, pulling her in.
When she is flush against my body, I hear a tiny sigh and she melts like she used to.
She is still mostly naked, and I make a concerned effort to deny my muscle memory to not run my hands over the curve of her ass like I want to, but she in fully tucked into the space she belongs.
She rests her ear on my chest, and I smile.
Fuck, this feels so right.
“Do you feel that, Del?” I whisper, asking her the same thing I did the night we were walking back from my sister’s house.
“Feel what?” she asks.
“How perfectly you fit into my arms. It’s like you were made for me.”
“Friends don’t say that. It would have been less intimate if you had made a dick reference,” she says.
“I can do that too, if you’d like. Sir Magnum would always like to be part of the conversation,” I laugh.
She returns the laugh and lets me hold her for another minute before she pulls away. “You have to go, Jaxon.”
“Thank you for letting me talk to you, Della. It’s more than I deserve and I fucking know it.”
I’m not sure exactly how I would characterize the way she is looking at me, but it sure as shit isn’t hate. And I will take that win.