Claire nodded slowly, every word etching itself into the part of her that had refused to listen before.
“Can I come by later? For dinner?”
“Of course,” he said. “Sara wants to cook, remember?”
She managed a small smile. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
She leaned in, kissed him gently, and left without another word.
And when the door clicked shut, Jaxon smiled—not out of joy, but out of relief. Not because she apologized, but because for the first time, she’d been real. Honest. With him. With herself.
Claire didn’t say much on the ride back. But in her silence, something had shifted.
What Sara said last night. What Macie said. The look on Taylor’s face. And now Jaxon… calmly calling her out without ever raising his voice.
She couldn’t escape it anymore.
She had been that girl.
The one who left instead of listening. The one who always needed more. The one who measured love by attention instead of effort.
And it wrecked her.
Because when she looked at Jaxon, she saw everything she’d ever wanted. Everything she could lose if she didn’t get it together.
By late afternoon, the girls were already gathered at Jaxon’s house, laughter floating in through the kitchen windows. Sara was elbows deep in ingredients when she turned to find Claire walking in.
“You okay?” she asked, cautiously.
Claire nodded. “I want to help. With dinner.”
Sara blinked. “Are you serious? This usually isn’t your thing.”
Claire gave a small laugh. “I know. But I think it needs to be. I want to do something for someone else for a change.”
Sara stared at her for a second too long. Then nodded. “Alright. Let’s get to work.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Claire rolled up her sleeves.
Not because someone asked her to.
But because it was time.
42
Undercurrent
Theguyswerealreadygathered at the table, stomachs growling, beers cracked, jokes flowing like water.
“What the hell is she making this time?” Carter asked, half-serious, half-starved.
“We begged her to make what she did the other night,” Trevor said, licking his lips. “That shrimp and grits? Slapped.”
“Wait,” Jaxon lifted an eyebrow. “She’s doing that again?”
“Yep,” Macie chimed in as she approached from the house, holding the back door open. “You should thank Claire—she actually helped this time.”
“I’ll be damned,” Jaxon muttered with a smile.
