I swear the wind was blowing through her hair as she said the words. It was impossible—we were inside—but I felt the earth move with her statement. Her fierceness to protect him knocked down the guard I had up.
I shifted in the booth. “I think we’re going to need a lot more alcohol to get through this month because between you and Jax and me and this town, Jay’s going to be exhausted. He’s going to make it through okay, though. He’s Jay.”
She smiled. “Isn’t he the best?”
“Yeah, he really is.” I searched for him at the bar and when I found him, I caught him staring back at me. He didn’t glance away, just winked and settled in on his arm as he leaned on the bar. A woman was talking his ear off and he nodded but his eyes stayed on me as he mouthed, “You okay?”
I nodded and motioned at our empty glasses. He chuckled and turned back to the bar. Seconds later, the guys were making their way back over.
“You ready to meet the town?” Jay asked, one eyebrow raised, like he truly thought I might say no.
I wanted to. Everyone was judging me. I knew they were considering my designer shoes, and shirt, and jeans. I almost face palmed when I saw that most of them dressed for comfort, not at all worried about making a fashion statement. The stilettos I wore always made me feel secure in my own skin but in this small town, they made me stick out like a sore thumb.
The four of us downed our drinks and circled the bar. Jay willingly engaged in being welcomed back. If they didn’t bring up his stint in rehab, he did. Every single person we talked to knew him and had something to say even if they needed to be prompted.
I pulled him to a corner at one point. “This is like a beating, Jay.”
He scratched his jaw and scrubbed up and down like he was trying to scrub away the fatigue. “It’s necessary.”
“Why?” I practically shouted at him.
“The media can be just as bad,” he countered.
“I honestly am doubting it at this point,” I replied. One of his high school friends had just asked him how many lines he could sniff in one sitting. The excessive amount of curiosity would have probably caused someone less controlled to lash out.
“That’s the thing about this place, Mikka. They say what they mean and mean what they say. If they’re wondering, they ask. And then they share. And they will definitely share. So, I’m nipping the gossip in the bud now.”
“I just feel like it’s overkill at this point.”
“It is,” he admitted. “It’s good practice, though. It’s a good way to become desensitized. The media’s been doing the same thing.”
The headlines about the drugged-out Stonewood Brother had me buying dozens of magazines while standing in line at the drugstore and then throwing them all away. I had called numerous publishers and worked tirelessly in the past two months to curb any news outlet that tried to come for him.
We’d done great damage control. For his movie, though, they wanted more. They wanted him through rehab and here.
I was frustrated for him even though he seemed to be handling it all very well.
Just when I figured the night couldn’t get much worse, my phone started ringing. Jay glanced at it before I could silence the tone.
“Don’t answer it.”
“Jay.” I sighed. “He still needs me. I still need him in a lot of ways too.”
“I’m not arguing that. You should know there’s a time and place to talk to him though. Tonight at a bar with me isn’t a great time. You both agreed to getting space.”
He was right. I let the phone go to voicemail. I didn’t face the music because it was easier to silence it and forget. I was putting a strain on Dougie just by being here with Jay. I’d let my Jay kiss me and, as I stared at him, I knew my feelings for him went beyond friendship. Of course Dougie had a right to be mad, to be prying and calling.
I didn’t know what steps to take to make it right and so I followed Jay back to Jax and Aubrey where we let the small town consume us late into the night instead. He caught up with family and friends and let his genuine smile shine through much more than I’d ever seen in LA. I watched him as I drank more and more alcohol.
By the end of the night, I wondered if I was the bad influence on him or he was the bad one on me. He shouldn’t have been out this late after just getting out of rehab and I shouldn’t have been this drunk, lusting over him.
Had he even had a drink after the first? My fuzzy memory of the night was proof that I needed to slow down.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to stand when I get off this stool,” I confessed to Aubrey.
She eyed the mason jar in front of me. “Did you drink that whole thing?”
I closed one eye to try to align my view with hers. I saw more than one jar, but maybe the jar was just swaying a little bit. “I definitely drank some of it.”