by Gina Azzi
“True,” she shifts her weight next to me, her cheeks pink from the hike. Sweat pools at the base of her throat and she swipes at it with the material from her tank top. "What made you decide to come back?" she asks, taking a bite of her own sandwich.
"The night Ethan died, my shoulder took a hit." I clamp my right hand down on my left shoulder, massaging the scars absently.
“Yeah, you told me that.”
"That was the night I decided I was done. My tour was pretty much over anyway.”
"But why'd you come back here? I mean, you could have gone anywhere."
I take a swig from a water bottle, considering her words. It's true. I could have gone pretty much anywhere. Could always find work in security or even the government sector. I have a few friends in DC now, some in California. There were definitely other options.
"I wanted to be back with my brothers." It isn't until the words spill from my mouth that I realize it's true. I've missed Denver and Carter more than I ever realized.
She nods, her expression thoughtful. She wipes the back of her hand across her mouth before shading her eyes to peer at me.
"And, if I'm being really honest with myself, I was hoping like hell that I'd get to see you, Maywood. I really didn’t think you’d be here, but, man, I’m happy you are."
Her eyes widen and she drops her hand, her gaze glued to me.
"I thought everyone would tell me all about you the moment they found out I was back in town. I figured you'd be on your way to a first star by now, maybe married with a kid." I pause, watching her watching me. "And I knew that would hurt like a bitch. But it didn't stop me from hoping."
She lets out a low, unsteady breath.
"Now, you're here. With me." I shake my head over the absurdity of it all. "It makes everything else almost worthwhile. For the first time in a really, really long time, the reality is better than the expectation. More than what I hoped for." I pop the last bite of sandwich into my mouth.
Her eyes track the movement, zeroed in on me, almost like she's in a trance. I reach forward slowly, shifting my weight so I'm hovering inches away from her. I sweep my fingers across her cheekbone, down behind her ear, and grip the side of her neck before dropping my hand to the center of her back.
"I missed you, Maywood. And I'm really fucking happy to be home."
Her eyes flutter closed as she leans into me.
I press a kiss against the crown of her head, breathing her in. She freezes in my arms for just a moment before shifting her weight; her head tilts up until her eyes meet mine.
I inhale sharply, bowled over by the depth of emotion swimming in her eyes, and the flicker of panic that ripples across her features before she settles her expression. Her tongue darts out, touching the center of her bottom lip.
I want to drop my head, press my mouth against hers, and kiss her senseless. But more than that, I want to see what she's going to do.
She turns, straightening until she's sitting on her knees nearly in front of me. Her hands trail up my arms, coming to lock down on my biceps to balance herself. "Jax." Her voice is low, a current of uncertainty licking at the edges.
"I got you, Evie." I raise my left hand until I can hook my palm behind her neck, brushing my thumb against the shell of her ear.
She shudders, her eyes closing, her breath unsteady.
"Jax," she whispers, a plea.
"Tell me what you want, baby." I pull her closer, until she’s almost sitting in my lap.
Her eyes open, wide and wild, looking around until they settle on me and bounce between my gaze and my lips.
Her mouth parts, her breathing erratic. Her fingertips play with the edge of my shirtsleeve, her expression a mixture of longing and agony.
Jesus.
I sit up straighter, my hand squeezing lightly on the back of her neck.
"I want you to kiss me," she whispers so softly, so hesitantly, I'm not sure that's what she wants at all.
I hesitate, dipping my eyes to make sure there's certainty in hers.
"For real this time. Please," she adds, a blush blooming in her cheeks.
And that's all the encouragement I need before I bring my lips to hers and touch our mouths gently and kiss her sweetly.
She melts into me then, her body folding into my arms and chest, her lips parting.
Wrapping her in my arms, I deepen the kiss, dipping my tongue into her mouth. She moans and my brain short-circuits. Her chest heaves against mine, her fingertips curling into my skin. I keep one hand pressed against her cheek, my other arm wrapping around her waist, holding her against me, as our kisses start to morph from sweet to bold. At the tipping point from reverence to reckless, Evie pulls back, her eyes clouded with lust, the pulse in her throat beating rapidly, and her expression almost confused.
I run my hand over her braids, clasping onto the ends of her hair to make sure she's looking at me when I tell her, "You make me feel like I'm in high school all over again."
Her cheeks redden, a flush that works its way down her neck as she shakes her head, almost in awe, and lets out a little giggle. Falling forward again, she lets me wrap her up in a hug and hold her to me, our breaths mingling, our thoughts racing.
I hang on to this moment, another example of reality outshining an expectation.
18
Evie
My muscles are sore and tight when I wake on Monday morning. The hike with Jax was almost like a dream, clinging to the edges of my sleep. Pressing my fingertips against my lips, I remember the kiss we shared, the way his lips felt moving against mine, and the scratch of his stubble brushing against my cheeks, keeping me rooted in the moment. More than that, I remember the exhilaration that filled me afterward, as I buried my face into his sweaty chest and breathed him in. Everything about kissing Jax felt right. He felt like home. I'm practically giddy as the moment we shared comes flooding back.
It was different this time. Not like the sweet kisses he peppered against my lips on my doorstep. That kiss was cautious, feeling me out. This kiss, I could have gotten lost in it if I wasn't careful.
And I didn't even want to be careful.
But what if that's all this amounts to? Just a wonderful moment between two people who once loved each other? What if that kiss was more for closure and less of starting something new? Because let's face it, I can't exactly date Jax. He knows me too well and would see through all the crap I would spew the moment he tried to take our relationship to the next physical level. Kissing is one thing; apparently, it's even a thing I can handle. But I don't know if I could ever be ready for more than that. Jax would never buy it, especially when he knows I was ready for more than kissing so many years ago.
Ugh.
I flip the blinds up and peek into the sunshine outside, letting the warmth of the day encourage me to get moving.
I have the day off, mainly because Gabrielle really needed the extra shift and since I'm not supporting a toddler as a single parent, I handed over the hours without another thought.
Graham knocks twice at my bedroom door. "You up yet?"
"Barely."
He pushes the door open and stands in the frame, a mug of coffee in his hand. "I come baring gifts."
"That could only mean one thing."
"What's that?"
"You want something." I move to the edge of my bed and wipe the sleepiness from my eyes.
Graham chuckles, handing me the mug and waiting while I take several sips of the strong brew, letting the caffeine shock my system.
"So, tell me. What can I do for you?" I meet his eyes over the rim of the mug.
He pulls my desk chair away from the desk, spinning it so it faces me. Sitting down, he leans forward in the chair, letting his forearms rest on his thighs.
"Evie."
"Graham."
"Move to Germany with me."
"What?" I pretty much stutter, little drops of coffee splashing over the rim.
"Just kidding, I was making sure you're awake."
"You're a doofus."
The corners of his eyes crinkle, amused. "No one has called me that in ages."
"I find that hard to believe."
"Mom called twice, said she left you a few messages. She wants to know if we’re free to go over for dinner tomorrow night.”
"Oh, shit. I completely forgot to call her back! Yeah, sure."
"Good. She's expecting us at eighteen hundred hours."
"Cool."
"What're you doing today?"
"Running some errands. Maybe some yoga. You?"
"Heading over to Hunter's. He’ll be back from Germany soon, and Kelly needs some help getting things set up for him before he arrives.”
"I’m glad he’ll be back soon. Say hi to Kelly and the kids for me."
"Will do." He stands, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of my head. "Don't go back to sleep."
Hmm, tempting. I sit on the side of my bed until I hear the front door close. Then I flop back against the pillows and flip on the TV. Watching an episode of Jane the Virgin on Netflix won't mean I won't get my errands done, right?
Three hours later, I force myself to stand up and change into my yoga pants and a tank top. Unrolling my mat, I stretch quickly before going through a series of sun salutations. Within minutes my breathing is controlled, my mind begins to blank, and a peace I only experience during yoga washes through my limbs.
I never thought I'd ever pick up yoga, but I've found it comforting in the past several years. The focus on breath, of being present in the moment, of connecting your mind and body and soul, it has all taken root within me. I now perform my practice daily, feeling a sense of serenity once I open my eyes after savasana.
Rolling my mat back up, I take a quick shower and change into a pair of shorts and a long-sleeve tee. Checking my phone, my stomach flip-flops with a message from Jax. Yes, I am getting butterflies from my ex-boyfriend seven years after we broke up. Gah!
Jax: Hey Evie
Me: Hi
Even though he sent the message nearly two hours earlier, the three dots appear at the bottom of my phone screen immediately, keeping me standing, holding the phone two inches from my face, desperate to see what he texts back.
Jax: What are you up to today?
Hmm, nothing, as per usual. But should I encourage Jax? I don't want to date him. But I do want to see him. Jeez.
Me: Not much. You?
Jax: Want to come grab a bite at Raf's?
Yes. No. Yes.
Deep breath.
Relax.
Me: Sure
Jax: Sweet. Pick you up in 30?
Me: :)
Dropping the phone on my nightstand, my stomach clenches in anticipation. Excitement.
Hope.
I close my eyes and practice ujjayi breathing to steady my nerves. On my final exhale, I open my eyes, square my shoulders, and stalk to my closet. Sliding the mirrored door open, I flip through the hangars, trying to combine an outfit that is casual enough for Raf's but flirty enough for a kind-of, sort-of date.
Pulling shirts and blouses and jeans and shorts from my closet, I toss them onto my bed. It takes me nearly fifteen minutes to settle on a pair of tight jeans with tears and rips through the thighs and knees with a flowing, sage green tank with little copper beads sewed along the neckline. Slipping into light gold, strappy sandals, I dash into the bathroom to pull my hair out of a braid, the long waves hanging around my shoulders. Brushing some blush across my cheekbones and swiping on a coat of mascara, I'm dabbing lip gloss into the center of my bottom lip when a knock on the door has me jumping up in another fit of nerves.
Ujjayi breathing, ujjayi breathing.
My stomach clenches at the thought of seeing Jax again so soon after our hike. It’s like we’re falling back into a comfortable routine, as if seeing him regularly is a given pattern for our lives. And it’s confusing because as much as I want to spend time with him, I don’t think he and I will ever be on the same page moving forward. How can we be? I’ll never be capable of the type of intimacy expected in a monogamous, serious relationship.
The knock sounds again, this time in a combination. A fast one-two, followed by a languid three.
I hurry to open the door, remembering all the times Jax knocked in the same exact way on my bedroom door to announce his arrival. Just that little reminder of our past has my flaring nerves settling again, and I toss my tube of lip gloss on the hallway console before pulling the front door wide open.
Jax stands on the other side, a navy pair of cargo shorts riding low on his hips, his hands stuffed in his front pockets. He's wearing a heather-grey henley that molds to the toned muscles of his arms and pools around his lean abdomen as his shoulders roll forward, and a sincere smile crosses his lips.
"Wow." His seafoam and moss green eyes take in my appearance, a hint of surprise lightening the color of his irises. "You look beautiful, Evie."
My heart soars at his words, tugging my hope up with it. "Thanks Jax. You clean up well, too."
He cocks his head to the left, his smile still hugging his lips. "You ready to go or...?"
"Just give me a minute. Come on in." I wait for him to enter my home before closing the door and hurrying back into my room to grab my purse and phone.
Meeting him in the hallway, I nearly crash right into him and his hands come out, settling on my upper arms to steady me.
I freeze, the pressure of his fingers searing through my skin, warming me up from the inside out. I look up into his face, biting my bottom lip as my eyes meet his. The air seems to charge between us, infusing a tension that intensifies with each passing second. The green of his eyes darkens, a storm on the horizon. My breath quickens and then gets stuck in my throat, ujjayi breathing completely forgotten. Jax's fingers dig into my shoulders, once, twice, and then he blinks, his eyes closing for a beat too long.
When he opens them again, the storm has subsided, and his easy smirk plays around the edges of his full lips. "You okay?"
I nod. My voice is gone, my breath still stuck somewhere in my windpipe.
"Ready to go?"
I nod again.
He shifts his weight, keeping an arm casually wrapped around my shoulders as we leave my home and step out into the humid air, as casual and comfortable as a real couple.
19
Jax
It's different this time. The moment she opens the door I know it. Can feel it. It's not like when we went hiking or to see Shrek. She’s more comfortable around me, things between us are more natural, organic. It's like we've taken a step, moved in the direction I've been waiting for her to be ready to move in. And now it's happening. And I have no idea how to not mess it up.
She looks beautiful—her dark hair loose and wavy, sliding over her shoulders, falling to the center of her back. Her blue eyes are sparkling, some of the old mirth and sass laughing along the edges of her irises. She looks... radiant in a way I haven't seen her look since before, a long time ago now.
Her laugh is lighter; I hear it more frequently. There's an almost musical quality to her voice, a cadence of sounds that soars and dips with the emotion behind her words. She's coming back to me. I can feel it. And suddenly, I'm terrified to lose it.
"You okay?" Her eyebrows dip over her cerulean eyes.
I nod, moving my hand over the center console to cup her knee, squeezing gently. She doesn't flinch, and I'm both relieved and panicked.
"Jax?"
I turn to her, careful to check back on the road every few seconds, but her gaze is penetrating. I'm mesmerized by the expression on her face; open and honest and trusting and so, so Evie.
I work to swallow, demanding that I pull myself together. I've run into fires and up narrow stairwells that could collapse at any moment. I've been shot at, shot people, and held my best friend's hand as he inhaled his final breath. I've done things reckless and stupid, necessary and not. But what I've never done is be there for Evie, not the way I should have been. Not the wa
y she deserves.
Turning back to the road, I resolve to be the man she's worthy of, to stop with the second guessing and doubt. To just be here for her, however she needs me to be, for however long she wants me to be. My determination clicks into place and clears the insecurity clouding my thoughts just moments before.
"I'm fine. Sometimes, you make me nervous."
"Me?" She rests her head back against the seat and gently turns it from side to side. "That's ridiculous. How could I ever make you nervous?"
"Because I like you too much. Always have, as I'm sure you know. And I don't want to do anything to mess it up. Not again." I smirk at her, attempting for playful, but my words are too serious, too truthful. We both know it.
She turns to me, her hand covering mine on top of her knee, our fingers lacing together. "You won't. This time I won't let you."
A bark of laughter bubbles from my chest as I pull her closer. This time I won't let her go. Not even for a moment.
Raf's isn't busy when we walk through the front entrance.
The familiar smells kick up to greet us, the regulars are at the bar like always, and it's like nothing has changed. Except it has. Evie's by my side again, her fingers tucked into the crook of my elbow, and more puzzle pieces fall into place.
"Hey, Jax. Ms. Evie," Lenny calls out from behind the bar, waving a bar towel at us and gesturing around to the wide open tables. "Take a seat wherever. Mindy will be right over."
"Thanks, Lenny." Evie tugs on my hand, pulling me into a corner booth out of the direct traffic of Raf's.
We slide on either side of the table, and I hand her a menu that rests in the corner, even as she rolls her eyes in my direction. We both know it's pointless. We only ever order burgers, fries, and a pint at Raf's. And, occasionally, a piece of pie.
"Mindy's here. That means we can get the cherry pie." Evie leans forward, whispering across the table at me.
"Mindy's that good, huh? Better than Gladys?"
"She's Gladys's granddaughter."
"No kidding."
Evie shakes her head, leaning back abruptly as Mindy approaches our table.