12. Intervention Jax

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S till driving back from Tabby’s place, halfway between his apartment and mine, intense guilt replaced the fuzzy feeling in my stomach as midnight inched ever closer. The wafts of his scent reminded me how long we sat talking, and if anyone found out, it wouldn’t look innocent from the outside.

Shit, it didn’t look innocent from the inside. The adrenaline rush when I thought he might kiss me—that was my fault, not his.

I considered how I wanted to be in good graces with everyone surrounding Ethan, especially if a fight could result in my being kicked out of his place. Chris’s betrayal acted as a benchmark of what I wanted to avoid. Even if Tabby only saw our long conversation as a nice gesture, the privacy and atmosphere of it crossed an invisible line. I gripped the steering wheel to white-knuckle status and sped home, keeping a keen eye out for cops on the way. Once parked, I went through the text chain from a week ago, calling someone I never thought I would.

“Hello?” the groggy voice growled on the other end.

“Yeah, Rob?” I asked, all too anxious to make up for my stupidity. “You might not remember me. This is Jax Grady from the D I only wanted to do something good.

My motives were pure, at least. I could be nice, even if Rob couldn’t be. If he refused to see Tabby’s worth, that was his problem.

Texting Tabby about morning coffee was innocent enough. I prepared not to get a response. But to my surprise and delight, Tabby answered, giving me banter and an answer to my role play note. We got each other. While I moved to San Francisco alone—no girlfriend, no best friend, no one I could trust beyond Dad—my circle was growing thanks to this little game group, and Tabby was top of that list.

I took a deep breath of the cool air around me, happy I’d messaged him. But the ringing chirp of my phone sank my stomach to a new low. Not a text.

Oh, great.

“Yeah?” I answered, playing up my fatigue.

Rob spoke with a quiet, uncertain tone. “Hey, uh, Jax? Right, Jax?”

“What do you want?”

He hemmed and hawed a bit before spitting it out. “I got a text from Tabby. He really is angry. If I write him back now, I’ll just make it worse.” He exhaled on the other end too long, the same way Dad did when he picked his words wisely. “You were right, okay? We’re moving in together. It’s time. But I had a real shit day, and now I’ve fucked it up again. I don’t know how to fix it.”

Are you fucking serious? Now I have to coach you on how to be a good guy?

“So, I guess, I wanted to thank you for calling me,” he said. “If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have seen his text until the morning. Did he say anything else to you?”

It was my turn to groan. “Like what?”

“What I should say so he won’t hate me?”

“You shouldn’t say anything. Words mean shit without action. You hafta do something.” My father’s words spilled from my lips, which made them easier to give. “I already told you earlier. You should drive him to work tomorrow.”

Rob protested with an even longer sigh than before.

“You have two choices here—step up, or step aside. Where I come from, somebody like him is pretty damn special. Tabby’s smart, he listens, he does fun shit outside of his job, he’s driven enough to have a real career, and he’s not even thirty yet. Anybody like that has a wider pool to pull from than they think they do. But despite all his strength, he still needed you, and you didn’t come through.”

“But he always needs me, dude. That’s the problem. I’m constantly running around trying to fix—”

“So the fuck what? Don’t you wanna be needed?”

Rob was silent for a moment. “He says that all the time. Did he tell you to call me?”

Great. Yet another thing we have in common. “No. Tabby doesn’t know I called, and I would like it to stay that way. You have to do something. Prove you know he’s worth your time.”

More silence. “What time is he expecting you?”

“Seven-thirty. Show up early and bring coffee.”

“Come on, I don’t need to—”

I spoke slowly so he’d hear me. “Make an effort, Rob. What would he normally get?”

“Just a plain coffee.”

Probably because that was all the prick was willing to spring for. “Get him something sweet. Caramel latte, something chocolate, or vanilla with a pump of raspberry. Like that.”

“I don’t think he’d want it. With my diet, we’ve talked about how bad sugar—”

“Trust me, alright? He’ll like this. It’s a treat. Say something about how you think he’s sweet, too.”

We stayed on the phone for an awkward minute, not sure how to end our mistake of a phone call. But Rob cracked in a final attempt to prove he wasn’t a complete douchebag.

“I really love him, you know. I’m just not good at this.”

I felt for him. Genuinely. If Heather went to Chris because I wasn’t doing enough, I would hope he would try to help me first before giving up on our potential. “That’s fine, ‘cause I’m great at this. I’m happy to help, okay?”

“Thanks, Jax. Um. Welcome to the family.” Click.

Family. Huh. I resisted the urge to repeat the word in a heavy Italian accent, and chose to fall asleep instead, putting my phone on Do Not Disturb so I could get some real sleep.

An unspoken part of me didn’t want Rob to succeed. But if my interference could help make my new friend happy, that was enough. After all, he was only a friend. My comfortable, familiar, beautiful new friend, who happened to fill the lonely space in my soul where love was missing.