His dismissal was meant to frustrate me. I knew and still couldn’t shake the feeling I had when I saw his hands on her. I ran my tongue over my teeth, trying to settle or ready myself for a fight. I wasn’t sure.
Aubrey cleared her throat and stepped toward me though, like she knew she had to diffuse my anger.
“I could use a water, Rome.”
I stared at his grip on her waist, saw it tighten and took a step forward. Aubrey turned to him and whispered, “Stand down.”
He whispered back, “One wrong move, Brey ...”
She rubbed his chest and looked at him with what I could swear was love in her eyes. “I know. I know.”
She spun toward me, and I almost wished for that same look to be directed my way.
Her green eyes were dead and empty though.
I didn’t say anything to change that. Without a word to each other, we moved to the bar. I ordered an old-fashioned and water for her.
We both waited, not willing to be the first to start any more conversation. She probably did it to grate on my nerves. I did it to gauge hers.
When drinks were set in front of us, I finally remarked, “Interesting friends, Whitfield.”
“They’re the best kind of friends, Jaxon.”
“You look the part. Nice and pretty. I haven’t seen you since Jay’s last movie premiere.”
She glared. “You’re here in your normal attire, wearing a tux as always, but I ‘look the part’? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t normally wear so much makeup, do you?”
“Maybe, I do,” she huffed out. “Do you normally dress like you’re on the job?”
She’d never been good at lying, and I was embarrassed at how proud I was of myself for being able to read her emotions. I leaned a little nearer to her. “You’re lying.”
Her doe eyes narrowed, but I didn’t elaborate. She stood there stiff in front of me. I’d seen her comfort drain as we’d made our way over the bar. She was as polite with me as she was with her father. Her mannerisms, her stiffness, even her voice.
I wanted to shake her, kiss her, scream at her, and comfort her all at once. I’d known her better than anyone once, and she couldn’t hide behind formalities forever.
“Excuse me?” she whispered.
“I’ve never seen you with that much makeup on.” I shrugged. “So, you’re lying.”
She cleared her throat, glancing around to see if she could sneak away. “You don’t see much of me, Jax.”
“That’s true. But I’ve seen you in passing over the years with Jay.” Why I was admitting it to her, I didn't know. “And, I seem to remember—”
Her glass clanged when she slammed it down. She tried to smooth the napkin on the bar to cover it. “I seem to remember a lot of things, Jax.”
I smiled and her eyes widened like she’d been caught. “Well, it’s good our memories haven’t failed us yet.”
“Yes, well, if memory serves me right, you left me high and dry six years ago. Didn’t return a call or text. Didn’t even send a postcard letting me know we were over. So, forgive me if I don’t want to exchange niceties about what you remember about me.”
I was surprised she faced the night head-on with me. Normally, people would have danced around it. And she was even more reserved than most. “You want to talk about that night?”
“I never want to talk about that night again.” She practically spit the words. “You brought me over here. So, what do you want?”
“Well, I figure we’re going to be seeing a little more of each other, so we should clear the air.” It was the right thing to do. It might have been the reason I took her to the bar with me or it may have had something to do with her friend or “something like that” being near her.
“There’s nothing to clear. You had nothing to share with me when you left, and I’m guessing you have nothing to share now.”