Page 47 of When Our Stars Aligned

Jax sits back in the booth and studies me. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what? What do you mean? Oh, God! Is there something on my face? Do I have a boob hanging out or something? Dammit! I knew I should’ve gone with the other bra, but I hate straps showing, you know?”

Jax throws his head back in laughter. “Aly, you look beautiful.”

“Oh.” My cheeks flush.

“The waitress is probably looking at us weird because we look like total opposites.”

“We do?” I scrunch up my nose. Now, it’s my turn to study him, and yeah, I don’t see it.

“Look at me.” He waves his hand near his face. “I have dark hair and eyes. I’m in a black shirt and dark pants, with my tattoos visible, and I’m literally sitting across the table from the sun.”

“I’ll have you know this is buttercup yellow!” I say, referring to my spaghetti strap sundress. I love sundresses and practically lived in them year-round in Georgia, but the weather is getting cooler out here in Oregon. The extra warm days are hit or miss. Soon it will be time for warmer clothes. While I love sundresses, I also love the feel of a good hoodie, so I’m not too upset about switching out my wardrobe.

“Yellow is yellow. But do you see my point now?”

“I guess. But I still don’t know what the big deal is.”

“It’s clearly not a big deal to you, but some people have issues with my look—my tattoos, specifically. There’s usually a negative stigma attached to them.”

“Huh.” I sit back and think. “I’ve never thought about tattoos one way or another.”

“Well, trust me, you are rare. Most people have an opinion on them.”

“My opinion of someone else’s tattoos shouldn’t matter.” A thought occurs to me and I jump in my seat. “Oh! Wait! No! I’m lying!” Jax gives me a quizzical look and I continue, “I probably would judge you if you had a tattoo on your face.”

“So, you’re saying you wouldn’t be sitting across from me right now if I had a gigantic scorpion on my face?”

“Exactly! Also, I don’t condone anything violent, like a polar bear eating a puppy.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“Oh! One more! You don’t have anything that’s misspelled, right? Like ‘no regerts’ or something?”

Jax belts out a laugh. “No, I most certainly do not have any misspelled tattoos. Besides, you should know that. You’ve seen them all.” He winks and I know he’s not referring to our time spent in the pool, but rather the other morning when I saw him naked.

“Well, we’re good then.” I smile. A tingling sensation flows throughout my body. I have never been attracted to anyone as much as I am to Jax. Sure, I thought Trent was good-looking, but this is on a whole other level. I know our lunch is done, but I’m not ready to end whatever this is.

“Why did you choose those designs?” I ask. I may not have any tattoos, but I’ve been around enough tattooed people to know that designs are very individual and often have personal meanings behind them.

“I was injured a few years ago. My arm got the brunt of it. I have a lot of scarring and a few burn marks that cover my entire arm. I hated looking at them and what they represented. So, once I healed, I found a tattoo artist to help me cover them up. It’s not easy tattooing over scar tissue, so we chose a design that was forgiving. Now, the emblem on my chest…”

“That’s a given.” I smile. “Will you tell me? About how you were injured?”

The more I learn about Jax, the more I realize how much I enjoy getting to know him. He may have a hard exterior, but I feel like I’m slowly breaking through those tough outer layers of his. He’s intelligent, caring, and handsome as hell.

Crap, I’m falling for him.

29

Jax

I normally don’t talk about what happened to me. My family knows most of the details since they were an integral part of my recovery. I don’t like to talk about it because I don’t like the pity that often comes along with it. I’m okay. I recovered. Some, like Travis, went through a lot more than me and some gave their all.

Something about Aly, though, makes me feel comfortable. I’m okay with telling her because I know she won’t treat me differently afterward. Plus, I know in order for her to open up to me, I have to open up to her. I may not be ready to tell her why I joined the Navy, but I can tell her about what happened during my time in.

“Yeah.” I nod. “I’ll tell you about it, but not here. Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

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