by K. K. Allen
“Happy birthday, buddy,” Jax says.
“Happy birthday, douchebag,” Tanner grumbles.
“Happy birthday, baby!” Claire screams.
“Happy birthday, Deputy,” I say before tipping back the shot. Liquid sears my throat as it slides down. I take the burn with bulging eyes. Grabbing the lime, I wedge it between my lips and chomp down to cool the burn as fast as possible.
The truth is, I haven’t done a shot since college, and even then it was a rare occurrence. Since graduating, I’ve only had the odd mixed drink, beer, and wine. Tequila shots? Never.
A throaty laugh beside me burns my cheeks and I turn. Jaxon is watching me, tossing the straw from his Godfather and angling the liquid into his mouth. “Here.” He pushes something in front of me, and when I look down, I frown.
“Water?”
He shrugs. “Do you want something else?”
I eye the second drink he ordered, pointedly—he never technically gave it to me. He grins, pushing it my way. “All yours.”
I take a sip—more like a guzzle. I know his eyes are on me. I can feel them burning my skin like lasers, but I don’t look back at him.
What would I say? The truth? That I’m embarrassed for holding on so hard to the past when I was dying in it? I need to find a way to let go, to move forward. I know that. But I’m not sure if I can do it with Jaxon pressed up against my body like he is now, sharing the same air and drinking the same drink. All I can think about when I’m near him is getting closer.
“You okay there, Aurora?” his voice jolts me.
“Yup.” I look around, trying to find the best way out of this booth, but I’m trapped between Jaxon and Claire.
“You can’t avoid me tonight, Little A.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap. My cheeks heat. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but I always hated when Jaxon called me Little A. It felt like an insult coming from him. Like he wanted to remind me of our age difference.
There’s too much silence now. My feet shuffle against the floor, and my fingers slip around the condensation of my glass. I take another drink.
“You’ve been avoiding me since our walk.”
My eyes pinch close. “Jaxon—”
I look up to find his brows arched. I haven’t even spoken, and he already doesn’t believe me. I sigh. “It’s been a convenient circumstance, that’s all.”
“Ouch. A convenient circumstance?”
I swallow. “I’ve been working mornings.”
“And why is that convenient?”
Heat flames in my chest. “Can we please not do this now?”
He grits his teeth with a wrinkle of his nose. “Sure, fine. Some other time then. Maybe in another seven years.” With a lift of his glass, he’s dumping the rest of the liquid into his mouth before slamming it back on the table.
I’m not sure how to handle his reaction. My throat burns with emotion as I lean in, lowering my voice so only he can hear me. “You’re not being fair. Do you think it’s easy for me to be here? To let these people disrespect me? To feel your indifference toward me whenever we end up in the same room? Jesus, Jaxon. When I’m around you…” My eyes flicker up, locking on his as my breath hitches in my throat. My pounding heart flutters. He’s so goddamn gorgeous.
“When you’re around me what, Aurora?” The rasp of his voice coats my body in chills.
I’m not sure I could articulate it if I tried. I’m confused. I’m hurt. I’m angry. I’m sad. For everything we had and lost. For everything we should be but can’t. For a beautiful future that was poisoned by a horrific event that stole so much more than three days of my memory.
I push away from him, sliding toward Claire and Danny, who break apart from their kiss to move out of the booth and let me out. But before I can get away, Jaxon is on my heels. “Why can’t you answer my question?”
I spin around, my eyes moving over the room to see we’ve already caught the attention of a handful of people. Sighing, I shake my head. My cheeks darken as the answer to his question forms in my mind, then drips to the tip of my tongue. “When I’m with you, I remember what home feels like. What hope feels like.” Emotion squeezes my neck. “And then I remember how it all ended. I’m as angry as I am guilty. I don’t know how to get past it. I don’t think you do either.”
“Of course I don’t know how I’ll get past it. I don’t even know how long you’re planning to stick around. Why mend something if it’s just going to break again? I don’t know anything about the last six years of your life, Aurora. I was shut out, remember? And then you just show up here without a reason, without a plan.” I shiver at his words. “Look at you. It’s only been a couple weeks and you’re already trying to put distance between us. Why did you even come back?”
If that isn’t a punch in the gut, then I don’t know what is. Why did I come back? I’m starting to forget. I thought I came back to close the door to my past, but I’m starting to think my subconscious had other ideas. “What do you want me to say? That I came back for you?”
Maybe that’s exactly why I came back.
“You’re here because this is where you belong.” His conviction rings loud as people around us begin to stare. “This has always been where you’ve belonged.”
My heart is pounding as I look around. Drowned out by the jukebox tunes, the onlookers can’t hear us, but they sure as hell can see us. Another June, getting heated in the bar. Surprise, surprise. This will do nothing to prove that I’m not a threat to this town’s peace.
Stepping back, I try to gain distance between us, but Jaxon reaches out and clutches my forearm with a strength I can only define as complete and utter desperation. It stops me. It stops my heart, and I know for absolute certain I will follow Jaxon anywhere.
He guides me to the middle of the room just as a familiar acoustic cover song spills through the overhead speakers. One by one, the people dancing around us shuffle off the floor, leaving just the two of us in the center of the room.
He pulls me in and wraps a strong arm around my waist, laying a palm flat against my lower back. No one else—nothing else—matters. Not the curious eyes of those who surround us. Not my heart hammering straight into his chest. Not the gaps in my memory. None of it.
My dance moves are lackluster, but in Jaxon’s tight hold, I feel like I’m a princess at the ball. We don’t move much, just a small step right, then a small step left, his palm slipping lower until the pads of his fingers dent the skin just above my ass.
I inhale slowly, taking in the intoxicating mix of crisp earth and tequila that wafts from his skin. And when his head dips low, his lips brush my ear, and my lids flutter closed. I melt.
“I don’t know why you decided to come back,” he murmurs lowly. “All I know is that you’re here now.” My heart squeezes. “You may feel like you’ve lost yourself, Aurora. That you’ve grown distant from the things you once loved. But it’s not too late to reclaim your life. Let me help you.”
There it is again. Let me help you. Those simple words cast a ray of warmth over me, prickling my insides and reminding me I’ve been numb for too long. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s time to reclaim my life, and maybe Jaxon is the perfect person to help me. Aside from Scott, he knows me better than anyone. The real me. The me before I was lost to the darkness.
“What the hell is she still doin’ here?” a man barks.
Jaxon moves in front of me just as Franco approaches, but I step around him just as fast. I don’t need Jaxon fighting my battles. “Excuse me?”
Jaxon wraps a stiff arm around my waist so I can’t move forward. “Leave her alone, Franco.” Jaxon can’t help himself. He still fights for me, declaring his position loud and clear for the entire bar to hear.
It’s then that I notice the music has died, and all eyes are on us.
“You don’t scare me, boy. You don’t see me causing a scene in your paint shop, now, do ya?”
&nb
sp; “No one is causing a scene except for you.”
Franco scoffs, his eyes darting to the crowd and back. His eyes are so red, I doubt he sees anyone but me. He leans in. Jaxon tightens his hold.
“You think you can waltz back into this town after we spent seven years cleaning up your pops’ mess? I let you have your fun tonight, but no more. It’s time you pack your bags, sweetheart. Be on your way, back to wherever you came from because you ain’t welcome here. Not in my bar. Not in my town.”
My jaw drops.
“That’s enough, Franco. Jesus fuck. She didn’t do anything to you, old man.”
Franco’s finger comes up, jabbing it an inch from Jaxon’s face. Jaxon doesn’t even flinch. “Get her out of here, Mills, or I swear to God, I will see her out myself. The law’s on my side with this one.”
I look up to find Tanner in the same spot we left him in, still in the booth, but now his arm is around Meg. His eyes flash with conflict, like he’s not sure if he wants to watch or help. If I’m being honest, it hurts.
Claire and Danny are weaving through the crowd toward us, but the damage is already done. I feel like my chest might burst as my eyes travel around the crowd, meeting gazes that match the seething hate in Franco’s.
He’s just looking out for his town. But why do I have to be the bad guy?
“What is your problem?” I manage to hold back the tears, feeling the rage of my pain.
“You, sweetie. You are my problem. You and your batshit crazy father.”
Jaxon’s hand lands on Franco’s shoulder, the tips of his fingers whitening from the pressure. “Back off. Whatever beef you had with Henry ends with Henry. Jesus Christ, man. Aurora just lost her father. Have some goddamn respect.”
Franco’s jaw tightens and his nose flares. “Respect?” he barks. “You’re going to regret this, Mills. She was trouble for you then, and she’s trouble for you now. Don’t let those perky tits and pretty eyes fool you.”
Shit. Jaxon steps away from me and toward Franco, his elbow cocking back and springing forward faster than I can even blink. My breath catches in my throat. My palm covers my mouth. But just as Jaxon’s fist is about to meet Franco’s jaw, it freezes in mid-air.
My breath slides out in a whoosh. Danny’s hold on Jaxon’s elbow is firm as he pulls his friend back.
Jaxon pushes him away and swivels around. “What the fuck, Danny? This asshole deserved that and more.”
“I agree, but you need that pretty hand of yours. Let me deal with Franco.”
“I don’t give a fuck about my hand. This is my fight,” Jaxon growls.
I step forward again resting a hand on Jaxon’s chest. “Actually.” Our eyes meet. “This is my fight.”
Franco lets out another laugh. “Well, look at that. The June orchard blossomed, and the apples are all alike. You’re as crazy as he was, aren’t ya, little June?”
I’m fuming, my fists balled tight, and I can feel the pressure in my neck rise to my cheeks. Franco sees it. He knows he’s gotten under my skin. So he goes for another lick at my open wounds.
“I won’t let you fuck things up for me the way he did. I’m older now, lost a great deal of patience over the years.” His eyes turn to Jaxon, who’s still being held back by Danny. “Just you wait, Mills. Her colors will start shining through soon, just like her dead pops.”
It’s like a vacuum just sucked up all the sound in the room. I inhale sharply, my eyes on Jaxon. His fists are balled up, his face is red, and I swear his left foot kicks back like a bull about to charge the streets of Spain. He lunges forward again, catching Danny off guard and making him struggle harder to hold him back.
“What the hell is going on here?” booms another voice.
An older man with a shiny head, a tan shirt near-bursting at his rotund waist, and a star-shaped badge over his breast pocket comes barreling over, his face red with confusion and anger. I remember that face. The face of the man who would toss my daddy into the back of his cruiser and drive him home after he’d gotten too drunk at the bar. Sheriff Brooks.
He looks between us all, his eyes lingering on me a little too long, but he doesn’t address me. “Someone mind telling me what all this yellin’ is about? I could hear y’all from outside.”
Jaxon steps forward, Danny finally letting him out of his hold. “Franco’s kicking Aurora out because he’s got a grudge against her father.”
“That’s right. My bar, my rules.” Franco spits, stepping closer to Jaxon and staring up under his nose. “She’s got to go. Now.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Sheriff Brooks calls, placing a hand on Franco’s shoulder and yanking him back. “Leave Miss June alone. As far as I can tell, she ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”
Franco turns to face the sheriff. “Are you shittin’ me? C’mon, Brooks. You know she don’t belong here. I want her out. Law says I can refuse service to anyone. Well, I’m refusing service to her.”
“You know what?” I raise my hands, waving the white flag. I’ve had enough. My body is shaking. I knew it wouldn’t be easy coming back here, but I didn’t expect this. “I’ll see myself out, thank you very much.” I start to walk away, then turn back around. “Oh. And you should really wash your hands after you take a shit. Your drinks taste like ass.” I walk away, the crowd parting as I pass. “Fuck you, Franco,” I call behind me.
“Fuck you, Aurora June,” he screams after me.
I’m still shaking as I step out the front door of the bar, but I feel liberated after standing up for myself. Sure, Franco won. I left. But I walked out on my own two feet with my head held high.
Jaxon’s on my heels, curling his hand over my shoulder and twisting me into his hold. Instantly calmer, I wrap my arms around his middle and lay my cheek against his chest. We’re hugging. I can’t remember the last time we hugged. Despite the subtle changes that come with age, we still fit together perfectly. God, I’ve missed him. Tears climb the back of my throat, building into a ball and threatening to escape. My fists clutch his shirt.
I sigh and open my eyes. They land on the gleaming silver motorcycle parked against the curb. “Is that yours?”
He nods into my hair without loosening his hold. “Yeah, the old one bit the dust too many times. I got tired of bringing her back to life.”
I laugh softly, loving that there are still pieces of us that are connected through memories. The number of times Jaxon had to haul his bike back home on foot to fix her was truly impressive. But Jaxon loved it. Along with painting and traversing the woods, he loved fixing up that old bike.
Loud chatter blasts through our quiet night as the door to Franco’s opens and our friends tumble out. Well, friends might be the wrong term. Tanner’s still got his arm over Meg’s shoulder, and his eyes narrow when they find mine. He doesn’t want to be my friend. He wants me gone, just like the rest of the town.
“Aurora,” Claire gasps, charging to my side. “Franco was such an ass. Are you okay?” She looks between me and Jaxon, exchanging concern for a slow-spreading smile. “Never mind. Stupid question.”
I nudge her and roll my eyes. “Shush.”
Brooks walks out of the bar next with a polite wave in passing. “Y’all okay to drive tonight?” Jaxon, Tanner, and Claire assure him they’re fine. He tips his hat, gets into his cruiser, and drives off.
Once he’s gone Claire loops her arm with mine. “You ready to head home, or do you have a ride?”
My eyes grow wide. “Wait, you’re going? You guys don’t have to leave because of me.”
Danny shakes his head in assurance. “Nah, Franco doesn’t deserve our money. We’re going to head back to the house and have a few beers. Play some pool. You guys should come.” That’s when I see the rest of Danny’s party guests spill out the door behind him.
Jaxon looks at me, then shakes his head. “Aurora and I have plans. You don’t mind do you, dude? You’re kind of old to be celebrating your birthday, anyway.”
&nbs
p; Danny socks him in the arm. “I’ll remember that when it’s your turn.” He winks. “You kids have fun.”
I catch the flash of disappointment in Meg’s eyes, but she gets over it quickly, wrapping an arm around Tanner. Tanner, who still hasn’t said a single word.
“Be safe,” Claire sing-songs to me with a wink as Danny literally sweeps her off her feet to carry her to their car. She yelps, then throws her head back and laughs. Meg, Tanner, and a few people I don’t know walk off toward another car down the sidewalk, and then finally, it’s silent again.
Jaxon looks over to me. “What do you say?” he asks, his voice a soft rasp against my heart. “Want to go for a ride?”
Warmth spreads in my chest and I nod. “Yes, but on one condition.”
“Anything.”
I smile, my gaze settling on his. “Don’t take me home just yet.”
Aurora’s arms wrap around my waist as if they never left all those years ago, and all the familiar fluttery feelings come back with a vengeance.
She’s pressed against me, her legs straddling my hips, my back to her chest, her palms flush against my abdomen, and her fingers digging into my skin through my shirt. I groan and shift against my arousal pushed up against my jeans. Having Aurora’s curvy frame strapped to my body again feels even better than I remember.
I rev the engine—once, twice—to distract the flow of blood, then glance at her over my shoulder. “Ready?” She nods, my helmet swallowing her entire head, and my lip curls in response. There’s nothing sexier than a woman strapped into my gear, especially this woman. “Hang on tight,” I say before I gun the engine with a final warning.
She will hang on tight. Aurora will clutch onto me like her life depends on it, just the way I used to love. When she was fifteen, it was the closest she could be to me without us crossing that forbidden line. As much as she loved the thrill of the bike, part of her was always a little terrified. Her arms hugged me a little too tight and her thighs squeezed me a little too hard, but nothing felt better.
I pull out onto the deserted street, and we just ride. I steer us up the mountain passage, and we weave down the narrow streets for miles. It’s the perfect night—a slight chill in the air, a light breeze, a clear sky, and a crescent moon hanging big and bright in the sky. Nightlife croaks and sings, and the scent of burning wood from a nearby campground tangles with the aroma of pine and oak.