“Aww, come on. But I want to go,” she whines.
I grab my purse and keys before he can change his mind. I get into the car, open the garage door, and back out as fast as I can without looking suspicious.
My heart’s already racing before I even reach the end of the driveway.
I tell myself my dad won’t notice if I accidentally go the wrong way. Barnes & Noble is to the left, but I go right. I just need to test a theory.
I scan the cars on the side of the road. Silver sedan. Black truck. White Honda.
Then I see him.
His car.
And there Jax is inside it. Zephyr too.
Not smiling. Not waving. Just watching.
Our eyes meet through the windshield.
My stomach flips and heat floods my chest.
I shouldn’t feel relief.
I do anyway.
They’re still watching me every night. Butterflies crawl around my stomach when I see Jax pull onto the road behind me.
He doesn’t tailgate, doesn’t ride up on my bumper or flash his lights or do anything aggressive. He just stays close enough that I know he’s there. Far enough that I could lose him if I wanted to.
He’s not chasing me.
“Shit,” I whisper to the empty car.
He’s three car lengths behind me.
By the time I reach Barnes & Noble, my hands are shaking.
I park near the back of the lot and cut the engine. I sit for a second trying to pull myself together. Then my door opens.
“You shouldn’t be out,” Jax says.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say back.
We stare at each other. The air between us feels electric. I step out of my car and lock it, glaring up at him.
I hate that everywhere I turn, he’s always there. I hate it. I also hate that I like it, that it makes me feel better.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper.
He doesn’t ask what I mean, just steps out of my way.
I glance across a few parked cars and see Zephyr. I glance at the car. There’s no Callum.
My chest tightens.
Jax follows me into the bookstore but keeps his distance. He stays a few aisles over and pretends to be browsing.
But I feel his eyes on me.
