13. Thirteen

13

THIRTEEN

M y nap didn’t do a lot for my mood. I was a growly bear even after I showered and dressed in fresh clothes. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered me—I didn’t need to make friends with people to be happy—but Sam’s constant glare was starting to get to me.

She hadn’t smiled at me in five days, six hours, and twenty-seven minutes.

Yes, I remembered her exact last smile. It was like being graced by the Goddess they kept talking about in the show it was so bright. The longer I went without seeing that smile, the surlier I got.

I was clearly having some sort of mental breakdown. The whispers had finally gotten to me. I was broken. I was the Titanic and there was no stopping me from going down. Did I mention I was feeling dramatic? I was like one of those Facebook dramavores who put all their personal business out for other people to fawn over.

I should’ve spent the night getting myself mentally prepared for the next day of filming. Instead, I headed downstairs to see what everybody else was doing. No, I was not specifically looking for Sam.

At least that’s what I kept telling myself. Whenever I told myself that, though, my inner voice called me a filthy liar. I’d taken to ignoring that guy.

“What’s with that face?” Jax asked when I meandered into the bar. I wasn’t really expecting Sam to be there. I was hopeful, though. And wasn’t that a kick in the pants? Why did I want to see Sam so badly?

Because you want to see her smile.

I pretended the voice wasn’t getting louder and focused on Jax. “I just woke up from a nap,” I said as I sank down in one of the chairs across from him. We’d actually spent a decent amount of time together in the hotel gym this week and gotten to know one another. I liked him. A lot. He wasn’t the one who I was thinking about now, though.

“Uh-huh.” Jax cocked his head. “You’re morose. Has anybody ever told you that?”

Was he joking? “I’ve been called a lot of things. Morose is definitely one of them.”

“Have you ever tried not being morose?”

“No. Hollywood likes a brooder. It’s one of the few things I have going for me right now.”

“Well, that was pathetic,” he said on a laugh when I let loose the most theatrical sigh in my repertoire. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Your mood.”

“I don’t have a mood. I’m just tired. I was out until three o’clock last night because someone kept flubbing her lines.” I scowled at the memory.

“Yeah, that’s not why you’re in a mood.” Jax closed the binder he’d been looking at and handed it to the individual behind the bar. It wasn’t Levi for a change. “Come on,” he said when I just stared at him.

“Come on where?”

“You’re coming with me.”

“Where are you going? More pickle martinis?” Honestly, they’d been better than I expected. They weren’t something I wanted to drink every night, but they were pretty darned good. I especially liked the way Daisy and Sam had gone giddy for them. They asked for an extra plate of the pickles just to snack on they were so excited.

The mere thought of watching Sam eat pickles again was all I could think about now that the idea was front and center. That’s why, when Jax started shaking his head, my stomach bottomed out and disappointment took over.

“No?” I tried to pretend I wasn’t deflating in real time.

“We’re going someplace else.” Jax’s eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. “In fact, we’re going to be late.”

“Were you waiting for me or something?”

“I figured you might want to come.” He smiled and then made a “get a move on” motion with his hand. “Come on. We have a ten-minute walk in front of us.”

Well, that was less exciting. “I don’t want to walk.” I was a grumpy Gus as I followed him.

“It’s not that far,” he assured me. “And, trust me, you’ll enjoy the place I’m taking you. You might make a face at first—I know I did—but it’s one of my favorite places now.”

He had my full attention. “Strip club? Please tell me all the strippers wear witch hats … and nothing else.”

He made a face as we walked into the lobby. “Do I look like the sort of guy who goes to strip clubs?”

I answered without hesitation. “Yes.”

“Well, we’re not going to a strip club.” He looked appalled at the thought. “Have you seen my fiancée? Why would I want to see anybody but her naked?”

He had a point, loath as I was to admit it. Daisy was snarky to the n th degree. She was beautiful, though. Not that I spent a lot of time looking at her. I only bothered to stare in her direction when she was with Sam, which was quite often. They’d definitely bonded.

“Just tell me where we’re going,” I complained as we hit the sidewalk in front of the hotel and turned to the left. “Is it a bar? I could use a drink.”

“It’s not a bar, although there will be cocktails when we get there.”

That was something to look forward to at least. “What kind of cocktails are we talking? They’re themed, right?” Leave it to me to put a damper on the evening. I could complain about almost anything. “Everything in this town is themed.”

“You get used to it,” Jax replied. If my attitude chafed, he didn’t show it. From all outward appearances, he looked like an easygoing man heading out for drinks with a friend. Me, on the other hand, I looked like his pouty friend. I was so grouchy in fact, all I was missing was a garbage can to live in. “Also, all the drinks will be themed.”

We headed down Derby Street. I hadn’t spent a lot of time learning the layout of Salem, but I knew if we’d turned in the opposite direction that we would hit the House of the Seven Gables. I’d yet to head inside—although Daisy said during our tour that it was a necessity—but the gardens and view had been magnificent. It was the sort of place where you could feel magic happening … and I wasn’t even the sort of guy who believed in stuff like that.

“This doesn’t strike me as your scene,” I said as Jax smiled at two approaching women and nodded his head in greeting.

“Hi, Jax,” they trilled together, giggling as they kept going. “Say hi to Daisy for us,” one of them called out.

“I’m on my way to meet her right now,” Jax promised. His eyes were heavy when they landed on me. “Why wouldn’t this be my scene?” he asked.

I shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. I should’ve kept my big mouth shut. I never did, though. “It’s just not a very happening town.”

“Actually, this place will be rocking for Halloween. I like that it’s quiet the rest of the year. And you know what? I never thought I would like it either, but there’s comfort in everybody in town knowing who you are. Like those women? Tomorrow morning, they will go into the yoga studio Daisy’s moms own and they will tell anybody listening about how they saw me with you.”

“So, basically you’re saying that you can’t risk cheating on Daisy because everybody in town will know your business,” I surmised.

His gaze turned dark. “Per usual, you’re missing the point. I would never cheat on Daisy.”

“Yeah, because you couldn’t keep it secret.”

“No.” He stopped walking and vehemently shook his head. “I have no interest in cheating on Daisy. She’s it for me. She’s … the one.”

I had never heard an individual outside of a movie set—we’re talking romantic comedy here—use the term “the one” before, and it threw me. “Do you really believe in that?”

“Yup.” He kept staring at me. “Some loves are so big they consume you, and it’s okay, because what follows is abject happiness. I never believed in ‘the one’ either. Then I met Daisy and everything changed.

“I don’t need a big city,” he continued. “I don’t need a twenty-four-hour pizzeria. I just need her. Well, and room service. We’re big on room service.”

All I could do was blink. He was deadly serious. “Aren’t you afraid that your feelings will change five years from now?” I asked finally. “How do you know she’s ’the one’ for forever and not ‘the one’ for right now?”

Jax shrugged as he returned to walking. “I just know. I feel it to my very bones. She’s the first person I think of when I wake up, and the last thing I think about when we’re falling asleep. I don’t care that she puts her freezing feet on me. It doesn’t bother me that she snores like a runaway freight train when she’s been drinking. I love everything about her.”

“You’re the dude they cast in romance movies,” I mused.

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t bother me.” Jax’s smile was as bright as the ones Sam had graced me with back when we were pretending to be friends for thirty-six hours. “She makes me happy. She fills all the cracks I didn’t even know I had.”

“But what if you ever wanted to leave this place?” I asked. “What would happen then?”

“Why would I want to leave?”

“Because … because staying in one place is a trap. You have to keep moving or you’ll settle, and that leads to sinking.” I thought of my parents, how they’d settled and drowned each other with the hate that built up over the years.

“Everything I’ve ever wanted is here,” Jax replied. “Why would I ever want to leave what makes me happy?”

It was a fair question. I didn’t have an answer, though. “Where are you taking me again?” I asked rather than respond.

He searched my face a beat longer and then—thankfully—let it go. “We’re here.” He gestured toward what looked to be an alley of some sort.

“Is this some weird Salem ritual?” I asked as I eyed the alley with trepidation. “Is this how I’m initiated into the cult?”

He laughed as he motioned for me to follow him. We stopped at the ticket booth long enough to eye the kid playing on his Switch inside. “I need two wristbands, Graham,” he said.

Graham looked bored when he raised his eyes. “Daisy already paid for you.” He waved off the money Jax was shoving in his direction.

“I have my friend, too,” Jax said.

Graham remained blasé. “She paid for him, too.”

I was understandably confused. “How did she even know I was coming?”

Jax might’ve been a good actor when it came to business, but I’d been reading people for years. It was impossible to miss the discomfort that rolled across his features. “She’s just magic that way.”

Jax clearly believed his future wife was magical. That wasn’t what was happening here, though. I had to think about it—hard—for several seconds. Then realization dawned on me. “You were waiting for me.”

“Daisy might have brought up that she thought you needed a night out,” he hedged, clearly uncomfortable.

“And you’re about the only one I can stand in the entire hotel,” I muttered.

He rested his hand on my shoulder and fixed me with a serious look. “Your attitude is going to get you in trouble. You say that’s the last thing you want.”

“I need this to go well,” I admitted.

“Then unclench. This place … this place will make you laugh if you let it.”

I was dubious as I looked around. There were buildings billed as haunted houses. Another that touted a wax museum. There were food trucks and touristy shops. None of it made me want to laugh. “I don’t understand.”

“Just trust me. Have a little faith.”

I remained dubious. Even I—with my bad attitude and rampant mistrust—could recognize when I was shooting myself in the foot, though. That’s exactly what was happening here.

“Fine.” I took the plastic wristband Graham handed me and slid it over my hand. “If this is some weird hazing ritual, though, I’m going to be really mad.”

“This place is simply part of the wonder that is Salem,” Jax replied.

“It looks like a tourist trap.”

Jax chuckled. “It is, but it’s one of those places you can’t help but love.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Just as the words escaped, my gaze was drawn to the food truck in the middle of everything. That’s where I saw a hint of pink flashing as Sam twirled in her dress. She looked to be eating fried dough and dancing with Daisy, who had a cocktail in one hand and her own fried dough in the other.

My heart was threatening to burst at the sight of them. The smile on Sam’s face was so big and so bright that it made my breath come out in a ragged gust. It took me a full thirty seconds to remember I was with Jax, and when I finally dragged my gaze away from Sam and Daisy, I found him watching me with a knowing look.

“What?” I demanded, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “I just think that maybe you have cracks that you need filled, too.”

“That’s not exactly rocket science,” I shot back. “Everybody who has ever met me says I’m a mess.”

“Maybe stop trying to be a mess.”

“I don’t try. It just happens.”

“I think you do try.” Jax wasn’t being mean as much as honest. “Stop worrying about everything outside of yourself and start worrying about what’s inside. You can’t control the narrative regarding your career right now. You can try to be happy, though.”

“And then what?”

“Then you keep being happy.”

“Nobody is happy forever.”

“That’s not true. People are happy forever all the time. I just don’t think you’ve ever seen it before. That doesn’t mean it never happens.”

I considered it for several seconds, then closed my eyes. “That fried dough does look good.”

Jax smirked. “I don’t think that’s what looks good to you, but we can start with that.”

I didn’t have to press him on what he was talking about. I already knew.

Sam. When she smiled, I wanted to smile. When she frowned, it upset me. I was attracted to her. No matter how hard I fought it—and, man, I was fighting it hard—I couldn’t quite seem to get her out of my system. That’s why, even when she was in a bad mood, I pushed her just to get a reaction out of her.

It was when she stopped paying attention that my day turned to crap.

“I can’t give her what she needs,” was all I said.

“You don’t know that,” Jax countered. “Besides, maybe you don’t need to give her what she needs just yet. You could just try not being a jerk.”

“I have been trying,” I protested.

Jax gave me a “yeah, right” look.

“I have,” I insisted. Even I didn’t believe it. “She’s too happy. I’m going to ruin things for her.”

“Dude, you’re already ruining things for her. Maybe try not ruining them for a few days and see how that plays out.”

He was right. Being around Sam when we were playing the “just friends” game had been too much. That’s why I had turned into a jerk again. At least then I was protected. If I opened myself up to her, though, and she was still disappointed … well, then what did that mean?

“This is not a good idea.” I was firm on that. “If we have sex—and that is literally all I can give her—then she’s going to get attached, and when I can’t be the man she wants, she’ll hate me. That’s not going to work out well for this show. I need to stay away from her.”

“Haven’t you been trying to do that?” Jax challenged.

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you both miserable because of it?”

I didn’t like that he had a point. “I’m just not going to be good for her.”

“Stop thinking ten steps into the future,” Jax admonished. “Just be who you are. Stop putting on an act. Sam is a big girl. She can handle big girl emotions. You’re the one acting like a seventh grader with a crush. The only thing you haven’t done is pull her hair to let her know you like her.”

“I haven’t been that bad,” I sputtered.

Jax merely raised an eyebrow and waited.

“I haven’t.” Right? I had been a professional. What if I was the problem, though? “I need a drink.” I started toward the food truck. “Whatever you and your future wife are planning, it’s not going to work. This job is important. I won’t screw it up.”

“If you say so.” Jax’s tone was breezy now. “Let’s just start with drinks and conversation. Maybe if you’re not a jerk for a change, you’ll see that it’s a good start and build on it.”

“I think you’re dreaming.”

“Well, let’s just see who is right.”