He seems to shake himself from his reverie, his cheeks warming slightly when he realizes I just caught him staring.
Coughing awkwardly into his fist, he swivels back toward the computer in front of him, stammering through his answer of, "Uh, nothing. Doesn't matter."
My brow furrows as I glance toward Tristan and Remy again, then back to Jax. "Trouble in paradise? Or just jealous of the couple in paradise?"
Jax turns to glare at me. "Drop it, Aiden."
I raise my hands in surrender, confused about what could possibly be making Jax grouchy. Couples don't usually bother him, especially since he hasn't exactly shown an interest in dating anyone in months.
"Alright, whatever, I'll leave you to your sulking," I say, standing and stretching out my cooling muscles. "I have to get to class anyway, and I want to grab some food first." Jax just gives me an impatient wave before going back to whatever admin work he was doing.
It only takes me ten minutes to shower and get dressed, then another minute to smooth my hair into some semblance of order before I walk back into the main room—where Jax is still frowning.
When he sees me, though, he’s bumped out of his bad mood. He quirks an eyebrow at my appearance.
“You know, when I was in college, I could barely bring myself to wear jeans and a t-shirt to class,” he says dryly. “How is it that you have the energy to put actual thought into an outfit? Especially after a workout?”
I shrug and adjust my button-up as I answer simply, “Because appearances are important.”
I do one final outfit check in the mirrored wall along the side of the gym: black button-up, grey slacks, nice shoes, and the glasses that I wear in class are safely stowed away in my backpack. When I’m content with my professional appearance, I grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulder. “Plus, the professor for my class tonight is the one that got me the interview for that paid internship I want. So it helps to not look like a slob.”
“I never said I looked like aslob,” Jax mutters in an annoyed tone.
I let a grin slide across my face. “Compared to me, I’ll bet you did.”
Jax just points a finger at the front door. “Out.”
Chuckling, I turn to where Max and ask him, "Fight night at my house tomorrow? I really want to watch the co-main event, and it's a free card."
He nods and goes back to doing his sit-ups. "Sounds good. I'll come by around eight."
I walk over to give him a fist bump before making my way out of the gym. I also force Jax to give me a fist bump, despite the fact that he looks like he wants to drag me into the cage for another round.
Twenty minutes later, I’m walking onto Temple's college campus. I beeline to my favorite gyro food truck, starved from this afternoon’s training session, and place my usual order. Then I stand aside and pull my phone out while I wait. When I hear my name called, I grab the bag of food and make my way over to Beury Beach.
It's not really a beach, especially in the middle of a college campus in November, but it's where every student comes when the weather's nice enough to be outside. I take a seat on the concrete border that divides the courtyard and the grassy area. I pull my water bottle from my bag and set it down in front of me before tearing into my food.
I'm barely two bites in when I see her.
She's across the courtyard from me, kneeling in the grass as she aims a fancy-looking camera at the resident Jesus-worshipper on campus. You know the one: the scraggly looking older woman who comes with a massive sign and yells about how everyone on campus is going to hell. Today, she also happens to be handing out condoms and pamphlets on being pro-life.
I sigh and shake my head at Mrs. Jesus before bringing my attention back to the photographer who caught my attention in the first place.
She's gorgeous. She’s got perfect olive skin and dark, wild hair, and she has green eyes so bright, I can make out the color from all the way over here. Not to mention, she looks cool as shit in shredded black jeans and an oversized flannel. But that’s not why she caught my eye, although all of those things make her really fucking hot.
She's gorgeous because she's hyper-focused on her art—on whatever shot she's taking. She's uncaring of the dirt she's getting on her knees from where she's kneeling in the grass, and she doesn't even seem to notice the way her hair keeps getting blown across her face and catching in the camera. She's so focused on getting the perfect shot that she's contorting her body into a low position that has her practically lying on the ground. She barely notices the drunk college student that trips and almost falls on top of her. And based on the badass vibes this girl is giving out, something tells me that would not have ended well for the kid. Especially if the camera was a casualty.
I continue to watch her for a minute, my food now cold and completely forgotten next to me. I'm just staring in awe at what is clearly a master at work.
Sure enough, when she finally straightens and lowers the camera, there's a huge grin on her face.
The sight of it, of her bright smile and giddy expression, is enough to get me moving. I stand up and start walking toward her, tossing my forgotten gyro into the trash on my way across the courtyard.
She's still immersed in flipping through her pictures when I finally reach her.
"Did you get the shot?" I ask.
She looks up at me, grin still bright on her face. She nods and stands up, moving so close to me so quickly that I suck in a breath at the sudden proximity.