Instead of doubling over, I held out the bottle. "Truce?" I asked.

Jax’s mouth worked for a second and I was certain he was going to tell me no. He brushed his hand over his face, pulling down the corners of his mouth before running his fingers through his hair. "Yeah Bit. Come on in."

Chapter Thirty-Four

Jax

She looked at me like she was afraid I might bite her. And as angry as I was, that still hurt far more than I would have liked.

Her bare feet sank into the carpet by my bed as she looked all around her, then let out a rueful little snort. "This is the first time I've been in your bedroom. I've been here two weeks, and I never set foot in here."

I shoved my hands in my pockets to give me something to hold on to. "Yeah? What do you think?"

She looked around like she was honestly considering, taking in the dark wood of my bed set, the scattered weights, the beat-up guitar collection, the giant-ass mirror on the wall. "It makes sense," she finally volunteered.

I had to laugh. “ ‘Makes sense?’ "

"It suits you."

"I'm afraid to ask."

She waved her arms a little frantically. "It's a little scattered, a little messy. But it's lived-in. It feels like home."

Her words hung in the air for a moment and I let them. I let the silence stretch out so long she got agitated, digging her toes one after another into the carpet. Then I waited a little longer.

"I missed you," she blurted.

I clenched my fist. "Oh yeah? What did you miss?"

"Not that," she protested. I raised my eyebrow. "Okay, yeah, that too. But I missed you. You've been hiding from me."

"I learned from the best."

She looked down. "Fair enough. But I kind of want you to stop now."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. Yeah."

I let the silence hang a little longer, knowing she wouldn't be able to help herself. She had to fill it.

"It's just… I realized something. We're never going to actually be able to avoid each other, Jax. Our parents are getting married. Tomorrow." She raised an eyebrow at me. "You missed rehearsal, by the way."

"Walk Mom down the aisle. What's to rehearse?"

"She was pissed."

"For how long?"

Bit laughed. "Until her third shot of bourbon. When I left the party she was in my Dad's lap singing 'Cocaine Kisses.' "

"I hate that song."

"Me too." Lily sank down, plopping herself onto my bed uninvited and I tried to get over how right she looked there. "I just need to know we can be friends, at least. Things are awkward enough as it is without us making it worse for each other." She looked up at me. "Wait, stop, don't get all mad and defensive, Jax. Look, I was an ass. I admit that. I treated you like shit, and I'm sorry about it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Her face worked for a second, like she had something more to say, and then dropped it. She wiggled the bottle instead. "So, yeah. Our parents are getting married and it's weird, and this whole thing is fucked up, and yeah… Drink with me?"

I sat down on the bed next to her. What the fuck could I do? I was powerless when it came to her. Even if this really was truly over I suspected I always would be. "That's a fantastic idea," I told her. And I meant it. "What are we toasting?"

"I don't know, exactly. You first."

I thought a moment. "To second chances?"

Her voice was small. "To second chances."

We drained our glasses and Bit wrinkled her nose. It was so damn cute my heart nearly stopped. I grabbed the bottle from her. "And to third and fourth ones too," I declared, pouring two in quick succession

She laughed. "Wait, okay, I've got one. A toast." She lifted her glass, eyes already shining. "Here's to our parents for fucking up any hope we could ever have at being normal!"

Chapter Thirty-Five

Liliana

I drained the shot, then coughed into my hand.

Jax's blue eyes twinkled. "Slow it down there, Bit. You're like, a third of my size. Don't try to keep pace with me."

"Bullshit," I snarled. "I can drink you under the table, asshole."

"Sure you can, as long as I'm under there with you."

I coughed again. "You can't help yourself, can you?"

"No. Not with you. It's a curse."

"I'll try to take that as a compliment."

"I intend it as one."

"Going under tables would be bad for this… whatever this is…?"

"Detente?"

"Nice word, Jax."

"I'm a writer too, you know."

"Oh… I know."

"You look pissed all of sudden. What the fuck did I do now?"

"Nothing. You just have a way with words."

"You keep saying shit like that and I have to tell you that I don't have the faintest fucking idea what you're talking about."

I gaped at him. "Are you really telling the truth right now?"

"God's honest. You keep dropping these cryptic little remarks and then running the fuck away instead of explaining. Keeping the door shut, whatever. You want to be friends? Friends don't pull this passive aggressive bullshit. Friends say what the hell is on their mind. You're pissed at me, you've been pissed for like a year. Why?"

My words came so fast I nearly choked on them. "Why? Why? You really don't know? You wrote a fucking song about the fight we had… the morning after we first… we finally… Fuck, you know what I'm talking about. You took the worst moment of my life and wrote a fucking song about it. Now it's everywhere. Mocking me. Mocking it. What we shared. What I gave you." I was full-on sobbing now. It was a wonder he could even recognize the words I was trying to say.

He pressed his lips together in a thin line and waited for my sobs to quiet before he slowly spoke. "Liliana. Have you ever actually listened to the song?"

"Of course I have, asshole."

"The whole thing?"

"I got the fucking gist."

His eyes blazed angrily. "How about the show? You heard the whole thing there, right?"

He caught me. And I didn't have the energy to lie. "I was late, Jax. I missed it."

His mouth twisted and his head sagged forward and for a moment I wanted so badly to lie. "You weren't there," he repeated. The words came out on an exhalation so strong it sounded like he was deflating.

He looked so upset I was instantly on the defensive. "I only missed 'Cocky'! I was there for everything else. And I didn't want to hear it, honestly. I've heard it a million times. It's only on the radio every three minutes or so."

"No." He stood up and strode to his closet, lifting one of his battered old practice acoustic up to his chest. "Fucking listen to it. Right now."

The gentle strum was nothing like the bass intro. It was light, almost plaintive. He ducked his head over the guitar, hugging it to his body as he plucked the strings and every sound it made was sorrow. I was crying even harder now, the melody so familiar, yet so strange. Then he opened his mouth and looked at me and sang.

"You got it right… babe.

We spent the night… babe

And I'm just a Lil Bit cocky, yes, it's true."

I winced. And his lips curled into a private smile before he moved on to the part I had never heard.

"Now we're young and so in love,