Is he softer? Gentler?
Is he the same man I see when everyone else isn’t around?
As Claire dried her hair, her reflection caught her grinning. “Movie night,” she whispered to herself. “Just us.”
She sent him a text:
Claire:Movie night at your house? I’ll bring dinner.
The reply came quick.
Jax:Sounds perfect to me. Who’s coming?
She smiled.
Claire:Just me. I’ll be there around 7.
Downstairs, the girls were on the couch, half-watching TV and half-eavesdropping. When Claire mentioned her plans, they immediately perked up.
“Just you?” Macie smirked.
Sara grinned. “Maybe she’ll actually kiss him this time.”
Claire rolled her eyes. “I would’ve, if we didn’t have to come rescue your drunk asses.”
Taylor laughed from the kitchen. “Sounds like you’re going for the re-do.”
“Exactly,” Claire said, already thinking about what food to grab. But just as the thought passed, another crept in behind it.
We haven’t even kissed.
She paused.
What kind of man is that patient?
On the island, Jax sat at the edge of his dock, beer in hand, legs dangling just above the surface. The sky was painted in late-day gold, and the air was still except for the occasional hush of water kissing the shore.
His mind wasn’t quiet, though.
He kept thinking about her.
How they’d barely had any time truly alone. How every moment had been shared—surrounded by friends, chaos, laughter.
He didn’t mind. He loved her people. But tonight was different.
He wanted to see what she was like when it was just the two of them. No interruptions. No phone calls. No one needing a ride.
The first time she came to my house, he thought, I never even got to tell her why this place means so much to me.
He stood up and headed inside, unable to wait another second.
By 6:30, he’d showered and thrown on khaki shorts, a fitted T-shirt, and a clean pair of sneakers.
Comfortable—but intentional.
He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “You’re acting like you’ve never had a girl over before.”
But this one felt different.
