Me: Everything okay?

I stare at my phone, willing it to ring with a new text, but nothing happens. I open my brother’s text thread instead of sending Jax another message that will go unanswered.

Logan: Lunch noon?

Logan: Up yet?

Logan: It’s not normal how much you sleep.

Me: Why did you ditch me last night?

My phone buzzes in my hand.

Logan: Something came up. Did you get home okay?

Since I haven’t been home yet, I keep the text as vague as possible. It’s not like I can tell him I stayed over at Jax’s.

Me: Still breathing c: See you tomorrow?

Logan: Ha Ha Ha. Connor said Jax took you home so I just wanted to make sure you weren’t sick or anything.

All the air whooshes out my body as I quickly run through the night’s events in my head. I can’t recall seeing Connor when I was leaving with Jax. Even if Connor did notice us he wouldn’t have recognized Jax with the different mask. Jax must have told Connor he was taking me home. Which makes sense. If Jax didn’t say anything, that would have been suspicious. Nobody actually knows I went home with Jax. With shaking fingers, I text my brother back.

Me: Either that or I walked.

Logan: Funny.

Me: Thanks. I try.

I take the first relaxing breath since I replied to him. He doesn’t know anything. That would have been bad. My body shudders. I ignore Kohen’s text and read the two I missed from Connor.

Connor: You alive?

Connor: Call Logan before he comes looking for you . . .

I can’t even go a day without Logan recruiting Connor to find out where I am. I contemplate banging my head against a tree instead of confronting my overprotective brother. The tree-banging seems like the less painful choice.

Me: Already handled . . . thanks?

Without even waiting for a response, I start packing everything up to search for Jax. Something is clearly wrong. I’ve just finished folding the blanket when I feel him behind me. I turn around. His face is ghostly pale, rigid, and if the clenching of his jaw is any indication, I know he is trying hard to stay in control. His eyes are the worst, void of the previous happiness and now haunted by his past, by his father.

As I step towards him to comfort him, he takes two steps back and raises his hands to stop me from coming any closer.

“I have to go.”

And to my astonishment, he quickly picks up the basket with the blanket on top and walks away without another word. I stand staring, mouth agape, watching him leave me. Again. It’s taking everything in me to keep myself from collapsing to the ground. Somehow I find the strength to keep standing, watching him. With every step he takes away from me, I wonder if I’ll be enough for him. When he’s almost out of eyesight, I know I need to fight.

For him.

For me.

For us.

After retrieving my forgotten camera bag, I take off running after him. Last night changed everything. I need to tell him that whatever that sick bastard said to him doesn’t change anything, that he can lean on me. When I finally reach him, I’m hopeful. I’m finally fighting for the one thing I want most in this world. Jax.

“Stop. Tell me what happened. Don’t shut me out.” I slide my hands up to his face and force him to look at me. “We’re in this together now, Jax. Lean on me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours.” I wrap my arms around his waist, breathing in the most intoxicating smell in the world. Jax.

His entire body stiffens and his arms remains at his side. I move back to gaze into his eyes again. Almost wishing I hadn’t with how much pain I see behind them. It’s as if I’m staring at my reflection. I reach up to stroke his cheek again, but he flinches away as if in pain. He isn’t here with me, he’s somewhere far away. I know the signs all too well.

“Please talk to me, Jax. I’m right here. Don’t shut me out,” I plead to deaf ears.

He stares straight through me. Not knowing what else to do, I grab his face with both hands, lean on my tiptoes, and kiss him with all the love I have. Every agonizing second he doesn’t respond, I kiss him back harder, unwilling to give up. A lifetime passes before I feel anything back from him. When he tentatively strokes his tongue with mine, I nearly sigh with relief. His hands go into my hair, pulling at the strands, angling my face to deepen the kiss. The rest of the world floats away. Nothing else matters. Nobody can touch us in this moment. The passion fades and the kiss turns angry. He’s fighting this, fighting us. He’s telling me goodbye with his lips. He tears his mouth away from mine and leans his head against my forehead.

“I’m sorry, Adalynn.” He didn’t use his nickname. Before he speaks again, I know this is over. “I can’t,” he whispers.

He closes his eyes and drops his hands from my face and walks away. I’m still struggling to make my brain work, but I somehow manage to reach out and stop him. He shakes his head and doesn’t turn around to face me.

“Why?”

I have no idea why I’m even asking. I won’t get an answer and Jax isn’t one to disappoint. His silence rings loud and clear. I can’t believe he won’t even turn around to look at me. Last night meant nothing to him.

Reining in my temper, I demand in a deadly quiet voice, “Tell me Jax, I deserve to know why you’re pushing me away, yet again.” Nothing. “At least have the decency to look at me!” I nearly shout at him. Nothing.

I tramp around him and grip his face to forcibly make him look at me. When he finally opens his eyes and sees me, really sees me, I smile warmly at him.

“Nothing you can say will change how I feel about you Jax . . . I—”

He shoves me away, cutting me off.

“Enough, Adalynn. You can’t fix me. You can’t even fix yourself.” Him punching me would have hurt less. “Leave me alone. I don’t want or need you.” Typical Jax-style, he leaves without another word, uncaring that he just gutted me.

If this were a movie I would chase after him again. I would show him that I won’t give up, and he would be running towards me, too. He would tell me he didn’t mean it and kiss me with everything he has. But this isn’t a movie and I don’t have enough strength left in me to chase after him and tell him I love him. You can’t even fix yourself. His words drain me from any strength that I have, making it impossible to keep standing.

It’s surprisingly easy to convince myself to let him go, that he doesn’t feel the same for me. With my head down, I leave Central Park. Each step I take away from him, I promise myself I need to let go of this fantasy I’ve had of us together. I’m nothing to him.

Two weeks later I’m half expecting Jax to show up at the bakery. Each time the bell chimes upon someone’s arrival and it’s not him, it becomes increasingly clear that Jax is continuing to push me away. I kept telling myself he needed time and then we could go back to normal, and a tiny part of me hoped we could go back to being more. I replay the night of the ball on a continuous wheel in my head.

Every time I see him in passing, he avoids me. I finally force myself to stop trying to talk to him when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to respond to any of my text messages or calls. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs when I met the guys for dinner the other night, and as soon as I sat down, Jax made an excuse to leave. He shouldn’t have bothered showing up, it’s our weekly dinner. Of course I’m going to be there. I need to move on. That mantra is easier said than done.

I’m trying desperately to concentrate on booking a pirate-themed birthday cake for a customer, but I keep losing focus. I really need to pay attention to her, but I can’t. She changes her mind every single time I’m almost done with the paperwork. My temper starts to awaken. I honestly don’t know how many times I’ve crossed everything out because she’s changed her mind. Ha, someone changing their mind on me. The irony is not lost on me.