Stay with Me (Wait for You, #3)(80)

Then she spoke in a deep, throaty way. “Jax, baby, I’ve missed you.”





Twenty


Jax baby stared at Aimee for a moment and then he gave her a half smile—not the half smile, but a lopsided grin that twisted up my insides. He said something and she tossed her head back and laughed huskily.

I turned away and focused on the people waiting for drinks. I wasn’t sure how many minutes went by, and I didn’t even try to stop myself from glancing over at them, but they were still chatting.

No big deal.

When I looked up for Brock, the guy she had walked in with, I didn’t see him anywhere, but there was a huge group surrounding the pool tables, and I figured that was where he was.

Feeling weird and like I had swallowed a bunch of energy pills, I was overly smiley and happy while I helped out the customers until Nick returned. By then, I was ready to get out on the floor and I eased past Roxy, who was shooting me “we need to talk” looks and to which I shot back a “we don’t need to talk” look.

I was hurrying out from behind the bar, eyes focused on Pearl, whose blond hair was escaping the twist, when I was snagged from around the waist and pulled to the side. Swallowing a squeal as I was spun around, I found myself between Jax and the end of the bar, facing Aimee.

Um.

Aimee looked as confused as I felt as she glanced between Jax and me, and then her gaze dropped to the arm around my waist.

“Aimee, I’m not sure if you’ve had a chance to meet Calla,” Jax said, and his arm was like a brand around my waist. “She’s from here, but has been gone at college. She’s back for—”

“I know who she is,” she replied, and her tone wasn’t cold or snotty or anything really.

My brows rose. I had no idea who she was, and I had a feeling I would know her if I did.

Aimee smiled as she brushed her hair over one shoulder. “You obviously don’t remember me. It was ages ago when we knew each other.”

Jax shifted and his entire side pressed against mine. “How do you know her? You grew up like a county over.”

I so did not care that he knew that Aimee with two e’s grew up a county away.

“It was a long time ago,” she said, raising her voice as a loud cheer went off toward the pool tables. “We did some of the same pageants together.”

Holy shit.

I stiffened as I stared at her. Aimee . . . ? Aimee . . . ? “Aimee Grant?”

Her smile spread, and damn she was breathtaking. Perfect freaking teeth, like she was still wearing flippers. “Yes! You do remember. Oh my God, Jax.” Her eyes flipped to him as she reached over the bar, placing her hand on his other arm like she’d done it a million times. “Calla and I practically grew up together.”

Uh, I wouldn’t have gone that far. We’d probably run into each other every other month at the pageants and we weren’t friends. If I remembered correctly, our mothers hated each other with the passion of all stage mothers. Mom was considered lowbrow for owning a bar, and Aimee’s mom was stay-at-home, married to a doctor, or by the look of those perfect choppers, a dentist.

“Is that so?” Jax slid his hand to my lower back, and I pressed my lips together. He’d angled his body into mine, drawing back so her hand was no longer resting on his arm, and even though I hadn’t done the relationship thing, I knew what he was saying with his body. I’d seen Jase do it. I’d seen Cam do it.

I got a happy feeling inside.

Aimee either was ignoring the message or wasn’t getting it. “Yeah, it’s such a small world. I haven’t seen you in years.” Her gaze was centered on me now. “Not since you stopped doing pageants.”

A ball formed in the pit of my stomach, weighty like lead, and out of reflex, I tried to step back, but with Jax being so close, there was nowhere to go.

“She used to beat me,” Aimee went on, and the ball in my stomach started to grow icicles. “Every single pageant. I’d get grand supreme and Calla would almost always take home ultimate grand supreme.”

Jax’s lips curved up into an easy grin as he watched me, but I was crawling out of my skin to get away from him, the bar, and from Aimee.

Her head cocked to the side as she leaned against the bar. “I haven’t seen you since the fire.”

Air lodged in my throat and the tiny hairs along my back rose.

“A lot of the organizations ran fund-raisers. I remember that,” she continued blithely. “The girls who won money at the pageants for like six months turned over their winnings for you.”

Oh my God.

I also remembered that—remembered Dad saying something about it while I’d been in the hospital, and Mom had been too out of it with grief to even come into my hospital room.

“So terrible,” Aimee said, blinking large eyes. “Everything that happened to you, to your family. How long were you in the hospital?”

Who asked questions like that? But I knew the answer. Throughout my life, complete strangers shoved their noses in my business and asked questions one would think would be off the table or just not appropriate. People didn’t think or they simply didn’t care.

“Months,” I heard myself say.

Jax’s hand flattened against my back, and I felt the muscles tense in his body. The tiny hairs were prickling now.