CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JAX
AUBREY MIGHT HAVE BEEN in shock. Her mouth opened to say something but nothing came out.
I nodded to her plopping down in the chair and gave her a moment to digest the situation while I scoped out the little café.
The barista had put a bell on the counter in case someone stopped in for coffee and then disappeared behind the coffee bar’s door midway through our conversation. I’d read her like a book while she did it. I knew she’d just given the illusion of privacy because her eyes had widened as Aubrey and I discussed everything. Really, she was probably listening right behind that door.
The woman cared about Aubrey too much to not listen. I didn’t know how close the two of them were, but there was something unspoken that passed between them when I got here. From that, I was sure the barista wouldn’t sell my location in the next few minutes.
For that very reason, I liked the eclectic little café. It made my life easier and that was what I cared about most. Selfish bastard that I was.
I didn’t even know if this was the right place to launch my app.
Sure, it was a soft launch and wouldn’t matter too much. Isabel pitched it that way and I knew she usually didn’t steer me wrong.
Mostly I was here for her and to finish what I’d started with Frank.
Fuck. I was losing it if I was basing decisions off them.
I prided myself on putting my work first. I’d gone down the road of putting emotions above all else with my music, but I’d hung that hat up.
I studied her while she studied me back quietly. One thing we hadn’t lost after all that time was our silence. Most people would fold under the awkwardness of it, give in to social practices and offer up small talk. With anyone else, Aubrey would have done that. She had etiquette pounded into her from birth.
She would have been a perfect nature-versus-nurture experiment though. Her eyes were wild and rebellious always. The etiquette and formalities locked her up most of the time, but they had to stomp out a shit ton of wildfires, especially with me around.
Sitting with her, watching her wrestle out the formalities only to meet me with silence, felt fucking good.
Like I was playing with fire and for once, I wasn’t winning.
Her gaze woke me up. Made me feel more alive than I had in years. She was meeting me head-on while wrestling with her own thoughts. I saw the wheels turning, saw her starting to plan and make sense of the situation. I just couldn’t see the plan.
“Look, besides me and you figuring out our shit,” I said, trying to ease into the conversation. “Jay’s got a lot going on right now.”
“I know that,” she snapped. “You think I don’t know that?”
“All right.” Different approach. “He’s flying out soon, and I think us being cordial is better than putting more on his plate right now. He doesn’t need to feel guilty about not having enough time—”
“How do you know he feels guilty?”
Good. We were getting somewhere.
“He starts to talk about you and then looks guilty, like he can’t talk about you to me. Then says he should call you, then looks all fucked in the head.”
She sighed and looked down at the table. “He doesn’t need to worry about me.”
“Of course, he doesn’t need to worry about you.”
She held up a finger. “Okay, to be fair, friends worry about friends, but ...”
“But he worries an exorbitant amount. If I didn’t know both of you, I’d think he was fucking you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Let’s save that conversation for another day.”
“Let’s save it for never.”