Chapter 3

3

JAXON

I’ve never seen Aria so anxious and uncomfortable. Ever. She’s normally so put together and poised that I’m concerned. Especially since she was lost in thought when I knocked on her window. I can’t let her drive home when there’s something bothering her.

I’m touched when I open the container and see that she baked my favorite dessert. It’s hard not to get emotional, knowing that she cares enough about me to do this. Which both slays me and melts me at the same time. God, it’s going to be so damn hard letting go. Not going to happen today.

“Come inside, Aria. I’m going to devour all of these pies with a glass of milk while you sit and watch. And I might have a bag of chips and some onion dip, too.” Now I have her attention.

“I should let you go. Apparently you had plans and I just ruined them for you.” I don’t have the heart to tell her why I was leaving. She’d be so disappointed in me.

“No biggie. Now get your ass in the house right now or it’s going to be all your fault when I go into a food coma.” I smile when I head for the house and hear a car door slam behind me. Knew she’d follow.

Reluctantly, she steps inside the house, and I pretend not to notice how apprehensive she is as I walk into the kitchen. Clutching her purse like it’s her lifeline. For the life of me, I have no idea why she’s so nervous around me. This is def a first and hopefully the last. I need to make her feel comfortable. So I rack my brain and get a great idea.

Setting the container on the island, I open the drawer, grab a few plates, and set one in front of each chair. Then I grab a ton of junk food out of the cabinets and do the same. I motion for her to sit, while I open the fridge and grab the milk and a bunch of other drinks. Some not too healthy, but I’m afraid it’s one of those days.

“Okay, so let’s lay down the rules before we start.” Now I really have her attention.

“Rules? For what? This isn’t a game, Jax. You invited me in to eat chip and dip while you eat whoopie pies.” Apparently, she’s forgotten the little game we used to play all those years ago. I’m hurt.

“True, but I’m putting a spin on it.” Before continuing, I pour a glass of milk for myself and open a bottle of water for her. She’s not crazy about the energy drinks or the soda I buy, so there’s that. I also open all the bags of goodies that haven’t been opened and crack open the lid to the dip. Now we’re ready to start.

“Why did you open all of those bags? I have no intention of eating anything but chip and dip.”

“That’s fine, Aria. But there’s a catch. We’re playing food charades, so we can’t eat a thing until we guess what the other person is pretending to do.” Immediately her shoulders relax and she smiles. Such a beautiful smile.

“We haven’t played that game since I was like twelve or thirteen.” She’s beaming, and—I must admit—so am I. Memories. They will either kill you or cure you. This one is healing me even if she has no idea. “Do you still have the cards you made for me?”

“I don’t, but we can make them up on the fly. We’re both a lot smarter than we were all those years ago.” Grabbing a coin out of my pocket, I toss it in the air and grab it on the fly. Slamming it on the top of my hand, I say, “Call it.”

Laughing, she says, “Heads.” Of course she would.

“Heads, you go first.” Hey, I had a fifty-fifty chance, but doesn’t really matter who goes first.

“Okay, let me think.” A minute later she’s pantomiming. Too damn easy.

“Peeling a banana, right?” How did I not notice that her eyes light up when she’s smiling? Stupid me.

“That was too easy. Had I known we were going to play I would have come prepared.”

Grabbing that whoopie pie, I open my mouth wide and do my best to take the biggest bite ever. I manage to fit three-quarters of the sweet goodness before chewing. Savoring the creamy filling and the rich chocolate cake. It’s literally a climax in my mouth if that’s even a thing. My moans apparently are sending her into a tizzy.

“Will you stop, please? You sound like a dog in heat.” I almost choke on a mouthful as I try swallowing. God, I hope not. I’m pretty sure I sound just like that when I’m having an orgasm.

It takes me a few minutes to finish what’s in my mouth followed by a whole glass of milk. Damn, that’s fucking delicious. They taste even better than I remembered. Aria’s always been a fantastic baker. I heard that she started with an Easy-Bake Oven, but that was way before my time.

“You’ve outdone yourself this time. They are exquisite, delectable, and downright sinful. It should be against the law to make something so out of this world…”

“Cut the crap, Jax. Let’s play the game. Are you stalling because you’re a wee bit scared of your competition?”

“Not one little iota. Hit me with your best shot!” I almost blurt out the rest of that iconic song, but she absolutely knew where it was headed. Yeah, I guess we do know each other quite well.

For a brief moment, our eyes lock and then we can’t help it. We crack up laughing and I’m thankful that this woman decided to bake whoopie pies for me today. She’ll never know but she saved me from making an ass out of myself. Had I left, like I planned, I would have gone straight to Stephanie’s house and asked for a redo.

ARIA

I’d like to think it’s because of me that he’s smiling right now. And it looks wonderful on him. It always has, but in truth he hasn’t smiled a whole lot over the last few years. Not when I was there anyway. Maybe he’s been unhappy and didn’t realize it. Until Stephanie broke his heart and the loss he’s feeling now isn’t love but complacency. Something familiar. Fear of starting over. If anyone has changed over time, it’s Stephanie, not Jax.

Whether you meet him at a concert or the grocery store, he’s always the same down-to-earth guy. Albeit, he has a crazy sense of humor that can be over the top at times, but he’s steady. Yeah. That’s a great word to describe him. Steady. The reason I call bullshit on Steph when she claims she wants a guy with more stability. Jaxon Carter is the full package. Def boyfriend material. Okay, changing the subject.

“What’s the matter? You can’t think of a food item, Mister Hotshot?”

“Oh, I have a ton on the tip of my tongue. I want to find a good one so I can make it hard for you.” I swear—in that second, in that moment, I blush. I do. Somehow the words ‘tongue’ and ‘hard’ all in a few sentences had my mind, and body, spinning out of control.

It hasn’t even been one full day that I’ve spent with him, and I’ve already turned into a complete idiot. No one at my age should blush. That’s unheard of.

“Are you going to stare into space or take a stab at what food I’ve been acting out for hours?”

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s only been a few seconds. Now start over again.” He does and for the life of me, I have no idea what kind of food it is.

Thank goodness he starts again, and it frustrates me that I can’t get it right away. Hey, there’s chip and dip on the line here. It’s everything and he knows it.

Watching him closely, I notice he keeps picking some invisible object off the table and placing it on something imaginary in his hand. Then he sinks his teeth into…

“Pizza. It’s pizza. Am I right?”

“What kind of pizza?” I think back to what he was doing and immediately know the answer. His favorite.

“The works! Ding, ding, ding. Give the girl some chip and dip.”

“Dig in, you know your pizza.”

No, I just know his pizza. I stifle a giggle as I search for the biggest chip I can find, load it with dip, and open wide. All the flavors explode on my tongue simultaneously. Sour cream, onion, and the salt and grease on the chip is perfection. There’s a party in my mouth and I’m the only one invited. If I was alone, I’d do a happy dance right now. It’s been so long since I’ve cheated. So worth it.

We play food charades until all the dip is gone and he’s licked his plate clean. I’m ready to unbutton my jeans and let it all hang out, but again, I’m not alone. Jax leans back, lifts his fingers, and starts counting. Why, I have no idea.

“Pretty sure I won that game, but obviously you don’t care since there’s not a trace of dip left in that jar. Being the good guy I am, I’ll let you take home the rest of your chips as a consolation prize.”

“You didn’t win, I did. You might have gotten twelve huge bites out of the six pies I brought. I, on the other hand, was only allowed one chip loaded with dip. Hmm, my dip is gone and there’s not much left in that bag. So you might want to reconsider that decision.” Throwing his head back, he laughs. And damn if I don’t feel something deep in my soul. He’s so damn beautiful. How did I not realize this until recently? In all fairness, I did crush on him when I was younger, but don’t all giddy pre-teens like their sister’s boyfriends? The fact that he was a musician, a drummer no less, well… that in of itself was a game changer.

“I’ll help you clean up and then I need to run,” I say. “I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“Never happen. My door is always open. If you bake for me again, I’ll gladly give you a key. Hell, I’ll give you a room and you can be my private baker. I’ll have a hat engraved with your name.” Whoa, he can’t be serious.

“You’re blushing again, and I was only kidding. You’re welcome to stay but I get why you don’t want to waste a Saturday stuck here with me.”

“I’m not stuck. I chose to stay, and I actually had fun. Still say I won, but whatever.” Another smile. Perfection.

“Maybe I let you win, Aria. Just to keep you here a little longer.” Is he flirting with me? No, can’t be. I’m the one who’s twisting all of his words around and it’s another reason why I need to leave.

“Good to know, but I really need to go. I have an article to finish this weekend, so I won’t be scrambling on Monday morning. I hate deadlines, and since I’m a procrastinator, there’s no time like the present.”

“For what it’s worth, I had fun too. You get going and I’ll clean up the mess. Only fair since I opened all the damn bags when I knew all along we’d only eat our favorites.” Yeah, me too.

Move, Aria. Stand up and get your ass in gear. He gave you an out so what are you waiting for? I’m comfortable. I absolutely love the open, airy feeling in his house. It’s not huge but it suits him. “Tell me again why you renovated this old carriage house.” I never get bored listening to him recount his tale.

“I’d be happy to. Go get comfy in the living room and I’ll just put the bags away before the pies get stale.” When I try to help, he shoos me with his hand. I can take a hint.

Taking off my boots, I curl up on the sofa and stare up at the open-beam ceiling. Gorgeous. Behind me is his loft bedroom that overlooks the whole house. Brilliant. There’s a beautiful stone fireplace in the corner that’s so tall I get dizzy taking it all in. Breathtaking!