Page 30 of When Our Stars Aligned

“I have a few stops to make before I head home, but drive safely, okay?” He stays in the parking lot until I’m settled into my own car with my doors locked and engine started. It’s a small gesture, but it means a lot to me, especially considering the last year and a half of my life. Thankfully, my paranoia of being watched has dissipated, but at one time that anxiety nearly crippled me.

One thing’s for certain. Jax is not Trent and I need to remember that.

***

“Do you hear that?” Michelle asks, looking up from her coffee. I finished my swim about twenty minutes ago and was happy to discover that both of my roommates and Carter were home this morning to join me for coffee and homemade muffins with loganberry jam Michelle made from scratch. I didn’t like the idea of living with roommates again, but waking up to the scent of freshly baked pastries nearly every day is quite the perk. I also hear the stomping sounds, which seem to be getting louder and closer to our door.

Our door flies open to reveal a very peeved Jax standing in nothing but his wet bathing suit. He makes eye contact with me but says nothing as he stomps over to my chair. In one smooth swoop, he lifts me from my seat and places me on the kitchen counter. He cages me in with his arms, his chest heaving up and down from his angry breathing. I become slightly mesmerized watching beads of water drop down his body. He’s so chiseled that the droplets actually skip over the divots in his abs. Fascinating.

“Where is it, Aly?” he growls.

“Where’s what?” I feign innocence.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You mess with my towel all the time and now you replace it with this?” He holds up a crumpled towel with Alex’s face on it. That’s funny. I didn’t notice he was holding a towel when he walked in; then again, I wasn’t looking at his hands.

About a year ago, Alex was asked to pose for one of those hot firefighter calendars. He was Mr. February, which upset him because even though February is the month Valentine’s Day isin, it is also the shortest month of the year. No one could enjoy a full thirty or thirty-one days of Alejandro Jones. This, of course, did not stop him from having a towel with his Mr. February picture printed on it. He gave it to Gabby for her birthday about a month before I moved in. The towel is now part of our communal linen closet, and I was all too happy to borrow it today.

“Oops, must’ve taken the wrong one by mistake.” I shrug my shoulders.

“The last thing I need in the morning is to wrap a picture of Alex around my junk! Why do you do this to me? I know you messed with the settings in my truck the other day too.”

I may have played around with his air conditioning and radio while waiting for him to finish talking with Travis. I don’t know why I have this innate urge to annoy the hell out of Jax. There’s just something about him that intrigues me. It’s like he’s been lying dormant for years and something inside of him is starting to awaken. Basically, Jax is a hibernating bear and I really, reallywant to poke the bear.

“You were in Jax’s truck?” Michelle asks, interrupting whatever this is.

“Yup!” I look over Jax’s shoulder. “He took me to where he works!”

“Aw! You went to the strip club without us?” Gabby jokes. Carter chokes on his coffee. I’ve since learned that Carter does all the electrical work on Jax’s houses, confirming our suspicions that the boys have always known what he does for a living.

“He wouldn’t let me stop at the ATM ahead of time.” I pout. I turn my attention back to Jax, who still has me caged in on the kitchen counter. I place both of my hands on each corner of his mouth and try to press his frown upward. “You know, your face could get permanently stuck like this with the way you frown so much.”

He grabs my wrists and moves them back down off his face. “Where did you come from?” A contorted look washes over him.

“You mean like Georgia, or do I need to go back further like the sperm and egg thing? I can explain it if you want, but it might be a little awkward considering your age and all.” He scowls at me. No surprise there. I continue, “If you give me some time, I can go to the daycare on campus and borrow some hand puppets if you need visualization.” I make my hands look like they’re talking to each other.

“You’re crazy!” He takes a step back and pulls at the short tips of his hair.

“Maybe. But I’m not the one standing in the middle of the room half naked and dripping wet.”

“Ahem.” Carter clears his throat, holding Jax’s green towel that I hung over our couch. He hands it to Jax. “I think you need this.”

“What Ineedis for her to leave me alone.” He wraps the towel around his waist, ignoring the water droplets that still cling to his chest.

“And what Ineedis for you to stop trying to drown me every morning! You can keep trying if you must, but let it be known, I’m unsinkable!” I cross my arms over my chest with that last remark. I thought the other day with Jax might’ve meant some sort of truce in the pool. I really enjoyed him showing me what he did for a living. We were definitely building a bond, or at the very least something was happening. But the very next morning he jumped in the pool and tried to drown me again. Okay, maybe it’s not purposeful, but I want him to realize it’s not appreciated.

“I’m not trying to sink you! I’m trying to get my frustrations out, which have only multiplied since you moved in.”

“I frustrate you?”

He leans in closer to my face so only I can hear his response. “In more ways than one.”

I try to hold back a grin. I get what he’s saying and I’m not going to lie, I like it.

Sitting up a little straighter, I try to compose myself. “Swimming is my happy place. It’s my form of relaxation and I can’t relax when you keep trying to drown me. We only overlap by like fifteen minutes. Can’t you wait to do that stroke until after I leave?” I wildly move my arms, mimicking the upper body movement of the butterfly stroke.

“Aly,” Carter interrupts. “If Jax promises not to drown you every morning, will you stop annoying him?”

Jax crosses his arms over his broad chest. If he were a cartoon, he would have steam coming from his ears. I should say no. I will not stop annoying him because, quite frankly, it’s a great source of entertainment. But I really would like to have more peaceful swims. Swimming every morning really helps keep my anxiety in check. It took a long time for me to figure out what works for me, and I don’t want to regress.

---