Max grins, while Tristan smothers his own smile with a cough. Remy just rolls her eyes in a way that can only convey the messageyou guys are such pigs.
I have no idea what secret conversation they're having right now. "I don't think you could handle Italian girls either way," I tell Aiden and Max. "They eat American men for breakfast, and then their men drink you under the table at night."
Aiden's eyes narrow in disbelief. "Bullshit," he argues.
I shake my head with a chuckle. "I'll give you my cousin's number if you actually want to plan a trip. He'd be happy to show you guys around." I push to my feet and face Tristan to try one more time to offer them money. "Are you sure I can't pay you? You guys had no reason to help. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you."
But before the question is even out of my mouth, Tristan is shaking his head.
"This one's on the house, Little Porter," Aiden agrees. "Plus, Jax would kill us if—"
He cuts himself off, his eyes widening as he realizes what he just let slip.
At the mention of his name, my throat immediately closes up. I try to swallow against the dryness but it's no use—the reminder is already there. And it’s just as painful today as it was on the day he walked out.
"Fuck, sorry," Aiden mumbles sheepishly.
I clear my throat and push past the awkwardness. "At least let me buy you guys a round of drinks," I offer. "Next week, maybe? Once I can stay up past 8pm again."
Max and Aiden both give a jerky nod, clearly uncomfortable with the tension.
"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" Remy asks. "The guys have to get over to the gym but I can help you start to unpack. Or we could just hang out?"
I shake my head. "No, it's okay, I have to head over to the café to let Stacey know that I'm back and to check the schedule. Then I'm going to pass out for about fourteen hours."
Remy sighs. "Okay. Then we'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything?"
I smile at my sister and nod. "I will. Thank you guys so much for helping today, I really appreciate it."
They all file out of the apartment, Remy giving me a smile and affectionate shove and whisperingproud of youbefore she leaves.
Once I've locked the front door behind them, I collapse on the couch again. I groan at the knowledge that I really do need to get up and over to the café before they close.Maybe a week-long trip to Italy wasn't the best idea when I have so much going on.
But I shut that thought down as quickly as it comes. I'm sick of putting things on the back burner. I did it for too long, and I'm not doing it anymore.
It's been two months of living with this newdo what makes you happymentality, and so far it's served me well—to say the least. It's gotten me to drop out of a college program that made me miserable, motivated me to make my dream of owning a café a reality, to take a trip that I've been putting off for years, and helped me to rediscover my individuality by finding my own space and pursuing my own hobbies. It's been a busy two months, but also the most incredible.
And just like it always does when I think about how much I've done recently, my mind wanders back to the turning point where it all started.
To Jax.
I drop my head back on the couch with a heavy exhale. It never hurts any less to think about him. I'm still just as in love with him as I was the day he walked out. No amount of time will ever lessen that.
I've only seen him twice since that night, once because I had something important I needed to give Remy at the gym, and once when the fighters all showed up at the bar that I was at. That time sucked the most because we both tried to make small-talk with each other before I ran out of the bar when I couldn't go another minute without crying. It hurt even worse because I could seehishurt as I turned away.
And as much as I'm dying every day to go back to him, something is stopping me. It just doesn't feel… right.
Not because I don't think Jax and I are meant to be together.
But because he was right to end us.
I shake the ugly thought from my head.He didn't end it. He put us on pause. He wouldneverend us.
But every day, it's a little harder to convince myself of that.What if he was telling the truth at the time, about wanting to take a break, but now too much time has passed? What if I took too long to figure my shit out and now he doesn't want me anymore?
It's an ugly cycle of thoughts. On good days, I can believe that Jax meant it when he said he would wait for me, but on bad days, I can almost convince myself that I'm too messed up and took too long.
Another heavy breath escapes my lungs. I take a deep breath, and then exhale again.