Page 37 of Always You

The room was all set, and Jazz was anxious. I wanted to make him feel better. A memory flickered at the edges of my thoughts, a fragment from a simpler time that seemed both a lifetime ago and just yesterday.

“Hey, Jazz,” I started, catching his attention. He stopped pacing and glanced over, an eyebrow raised in silent question, his hands in fists at his side. “Do you remember that time back inschool when we were fifteen, and we camped out in the forest to watch the meteor shower?”

He blinked at me as if thinking was way too hard right now, but then a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a spark of nostalgia lighting his eyes. “Yeah, I remember.”

“We were so determined to stay up all night, but we both fell asleep around midnight.”

“Yeah.”

I laughed, the sound bouncing around the bright room. “We did. But not before you scared me half to death, pretending you heard something moving in the bushes.”

Jazz chuckled. “That’s right. You jumped so high I thought you’d levitate.” He paused, his smile widening. “You always were the jumpy one.”

“It’s your fault for telling all those ghost stories as we sat out there,” I shot back, shaking my head in mock disapproval.

“Hey, you were the one who wanted to make it an authentic camping experience, so I was just contributing to the ambiance.”

We both laughed, the tension easing as the shared memory bridged the gap the years had widened. It felt good to remember those moments of uncomplicated friendship, to recall a time when the biggest worry was whether we’d see a shooting star or get spooked by a raccoon. I needed Jazz to remember gentler times, to take away the stress. I missed simpler times.

I missed him.

“You always had a way of making any situation memorable,” I said, the truth of the words more poignant than I’d intended.

Jazz’s expression softened, his earlier apprehension smoothing out into something gentler. “And you were always there, making sure we had everything we needed. Even brought out that old telescope your dad had in the garage, although neither of us could figure out how to set it up properly.”

“I think we spent more time fighting with that telescope than watching the sky,” I admitted with a grin. “Good times, huh?”

“Definitely good times,” Jazz agreed, his gaze drifting back to the window before returning to me. “Makes you remember, doesn’t it? How simple things were back then?”

“It does.” I nodded. “But we’re here now, and that’s what matters. Making fresh memories, right?”

“Right,” Jazz said, cautious hope returning to his features as he glanced at the small box containing the pendant for Harper.

“Speaking of making memories,” I continued, gesturing toward the gift he’d brought, “she’s going to love that. You’re doing great, Jazz.”

He nodded, a determined look crossing his face as he clutched the box tighter. “Thanks, Alex. It means a lot to hear that from you.” He chuckled. “Do you remember the poison ivy the next time we camped, though?”

I scratched my arm at the phantom memory. “Oh god, yeah.”

And that was how it went, and Jazz’s hand unclenched as the conversation took us to a few minutes before Harper arrived.

“What if she doesn’t come?” Jazz asked, and before he could tense up, I gripped his hands and held tight.

“She’ll be here.”

“Will you…” Hehe inhaled. “Could you…”

“Jazz?” I prompted him.

“Will you stay with me until she does? You could meet her if you like?”

That was an easy ask.

“Of course.”

Chapter Nineteen

JAZZ

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