My sister rolls her eyes at that. "It doesn't matter," she concedes with a huff. Turning her attention to me, her irritation slowly morphs into an excited smile. "Happy birthday, little sister." Never one for the show of hugs and kisses, she just gives me a nod.
Jax, on the other hand, is all about hugs. It’s always amazed me that his affection doesn’t bother me, since physical touch has never been my love language. But there’s something about his love, and the pure intent with how he shows it, that has always had the opposite effect on me. I’ve always craved his hugs. And when he unfolds his massive, Viking-esque stature from the chair and stands to his full 6'4 height, I am nothing but eager for him to wrap me up in his arms.
I met Jax when I was ten years old, when my family moved to a new neighborhood, and Remy, being the tomboy that she was, immediately befriended the athletic boy next door. For the next four years, they were practically glued at the hip—Jax was over our house more than even Remy's high school boyfriends. People used to tease them about dating, but their relationship became one more of tight-knit siblings than anything else.
Our relationship, on the other hand, is something entirely different. Being five years younger than Jax, I was just the pesky little sister that wanted to hang out with the teenagers. And while Remy was never as mean to me as a lot of older siblings would be to my friends, she wasn't exactly itching to include me in things.
Jax was the only one that would give me the time of day. Even as a sixteen-year-old boy, he would go out of his way to make sure I was okay and help me with anything I needed. He could often be found in the kitchen, helping me with my math homework, or driving me to dance classes if no one else could. I definitely had a crush on him in the beginning—how could I not when he was the cutest boy I’d ever seenandnice to me? But after a while, my schoolgirl crush faded to a different, and deeper, kind of bond.
I was never sure if it happened because I was sick of feeling hurt when he would get a new girlfriend every month, or if I just wised up. Eventually, I stopped fantasizing about the day where he would realize I was the girl he was looking for, and instead started appreciating that I owned his heart in a different capacity. He might not be interested in me romantically, but I was undeniably the one person that he would drop everything for if I asked. Even Remy didn't have his love the way that I did. I could never decide if he was protective of me because I was small and quiet, or if it just went without saying that we'd look out for each other.
Either way, we've been close for over a decade. Even though we rarely saw each other after he and Remy left for college, and even though we don't see each other too often now, that bond stretches tight and glows every time we're in the same room together.
When he stands up from his seat, he smiles and wraps me in a tight hug. "Happy birthday, baby girl," he murmurs into my hair. I squeeze his waist and bury my face into his chest, enjoying the smell and feel of him wrapped around me.
He squeezes me once before letting go and dropping back into his seat. I take the one next to him and turn back to my sister. "Did you guys order already?"
She glares at Jax. “Yeah, this bastard already chugged his. If he’s under the table by the end of lunch, we’ll know why.” Jax rolls his eyes at the jab that he’s a lightweight despite his size. She turns her attention back to me, a grin stretching across her face. "So, what's your first legal drink going to be? And what kind of shot are we doing?"
I scrunch my nose at the mention of a shot. I was never a big drinker even before Steve, so straight liquor has never appealed to me.
"Oh, come on, youhaveto do a shot!" Remy practically whines.
I sigh in defeat at the same time that our waiter walks up to the table.
"Hi, guys, how are we doing today?" he asks, his attitude friendly and welcoming, as he places a glass of water in front of each of us.
"We're great," Remy chirps. "It's my sister's 21st birthday today."
The waiter turns his attention to me, a smile on his face. I feel Jax stiffen beside me when the waiter’s eyes quickly glance over my body.
"Happy birthday!" he says too enthusiastically. "First drink is on me today, beautiful. What can I get you?"
I give him a small smile. "Thanks. I'm going to have a house margarita, please. And three shots of tequila for the table." Remy rubs her hands together, looking way too happy about this.
The waiter smiles again. "You got it, sweetheart." He turns to Remy, completely oblivious to the daggers Jax is glaring at the side of his head. "What about you? What can I get you?"
"I'll do a margarita, as well," Remy answers with a smile.
"I'll take a Corona," Jax barks. The waiter startles, as if he didn't realize that there was a man at the table. Which is comical in itself, since Jax is a giant. I can't stop the giggle that slips out of me at Jax’s overprotective attitude. He aims his glare at me with narrowed eyes, daring me to tell him to stop. I just pat his arm placatingly to brush it off.
"I'll be right back with those drinks," the waiter mumbles once he composes himself. Jax watches him until he reaches the bar.
"You don't have to be such a bear, Jax," I can't help laughing. "It was harmless flirting."
Frown lines continue to crease Jax's face. "It was shitty customer service," he growls in response.
I huff a louder laugh and shake my head, eliciting a grin and a wink from Jax as he concedes. I turn my attention to my sister and ask, "Speaking of bears, why were you so grouchy when I walked up? Something happen at the gym?"
Now it's Remy's turn to glare at me. "Not exactly. I was pissed because Jax felt the need to do something without consulting the class first."
I raise an eyebrow in question. "What'd he do?"
Remy opens her mouth to answer but seems to spot something over my shoulder because she freezes. I don't know how it's possible, but her irritation multiplies tenfold.
"You're about to find out," she grits out, turning the force of her anger on Jax.
Jax just sits there, looking like the cat that caught the canary. Before I can even look behind us to see what caught her attention, Jax's roommate Tristan appears next to our table.