“You’re not selling the brewery,” Jax says nearly in one breath as soon as I answer the door.
I cross my arms. “I am, and the first thing I’m doing with the check is hiring a doorman to stop you from showing up at my home, uninvited.” I wave him off. “You got what you wanted. Bye now.”
I wasn’t sure when Marshall would tell Jax I’d decided to sell my share of the brewery. I’d battled with myself on what to do, but in the end, I’d decided my heart was just as valuable as memories of Christopher. I have plenty of memories with him—his letter, photos, mementos.
I wanted to keep the brewery so bad, but not at the expense of my heart.
Jax stares up at me in … expectancy? Like he could show up, tell me what to do, and I’d be all okay with it?
I think not, heartbreaker.
With his arm, he blocks me from shutting the door in his face. “Amelia, I made a mistake.”
“Mistakes,” I correct, kicking a foot out. “Plural. Meaning many of them.”
Just like the past few times I’ve seen Jax, he isn’t a man who’d win the Happiest Man Alive award. He still towers over me, his face puffy—almost as if he’s been crying—and brimming with desperation.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Keep your apologies. I don’t want them.”
“Amelia—”
I stop him from moving past me into the townhome. “Leave, Jax!” I thrust my finger out toward the sidewalk, not caring if neighbors overhear me. “Get off my doorstep. Stay off it. And leave me alone.”
“I won’t buy it.”
I stare at him indifferently and shrug. “It won’t be hard, finding another buyer.”
He tsks me. “Sweet Amelia, per our business agreement—the contract you also inherited with the brewery—all owners must be approved by both you and me. Spoiler alert: I’m not approving shit.”
“In that case, as soon as you leave, I’ll hire Essie to find me a loophole.”
“Please.”
Never in the decades that I’ve known Jax has he ever pleaded like this. Not even when I stole his favorite Pokémon card or that time when I dared him to skinny-dip. I swiped his swim trunks and made him beg me to tell him where they were as he stood in front of me, his hands cupping between his legs.
Jax Bridges is not someone who begs.
“You made me feel whole again, Jax,” I say, and his body jerks at the change in my tone. “I thought I was finding love again … and then you broke my heart. And instead of saying, I’m sorry, Amelia. I’m too broken for you, you said you did it to convince me to sell you my share of the brewery.”
He jumps when I clap my hands.
“Guess what. It worked.” I clap my hands again—three times. “Yay for you. I’ll find the absolute worst buyer I can.”
“Listen to me—”
I hold my hand up and speak over him. “Like I asked you to do at my parents’, or after you fucked me outside on a stairway and then said, ’K, thanks, bye? Is that what you want to talk to me about, Jax? You’ve had weeks to talk to me but never did.” I stop to blow out a series of breaths. “You didn’t even give me my panties back, asshole.”
A quick flash of a smile hits his lips at the last sentence. “Technically, they were ripped, and you wouldn’t have been able to even put them back on anyway.”
Yep. He totally kept them.
“That’s not the point.” I shake my head. “You dismissing me after that is the point. Your push and pull—”
“And you haven’t pushed and pulled with me? All our lives, that’s what we’ve done.”
“We’re not kids anymore, Jax.” I repeat the same motion of pointing to the sidewalk. “You said what you needed to say, but your silence said more.”
“We were both hurting.”
“Hurt people don’t always have to hurt people.”
“I’m sorry,” he says in a low voice. “I’m sorry. Please. Please accept my apology.”
I cross my arms again. “I’ll accept it, but it doesn’t change anything, Jaxson.”
“But I want it to change everything.”
“Leave.”
“I will make this up to you, Amelia. I will. I’ll prove that you can trust me with your heart again.”
“All you need to prove to me is that you’ll stay away. You want to help me? Stay out of my way and buy the brewery from me. That’s how you can make it up to me.”
I slam the door in his face.
The next morning, I walk outside to find my tires slashed.
Any sane person would accuse the guy who begged on their doorstep for forgiveness, but Jax would never do something like that. Which means it was someone else.
I call the non-emergency line to file a police report, and ten minutes later, a cruiser pulls into the space next to mine. Kyle and Gage step out, donning their police uniforms, both middle-aged men who look nothing like their age. Ava wanted to kill me all the times I told her that her dad was a DILF.
Speaking of Ava, seconds later, her car comes swerving toward us, and her brakes squeak when she stops behind the cruiser.
“I was on the phone with my dad when the call came in,” Ava explains as the three of them observe my car.
They don’t get through many questions when a call comes through the radio.
“Vandalism call,” the woman’s voice says. “Down Home Brewery, off Kemper Avenue. Anyone close to take it?”
Gage clicks his radio. “Kyle and I are on our way.”
Kyle closes his notepad and looks at me. “Your brewery, right? You can ride with us.”
“No,” I rush out. “I’ll stay behind. You guys can take care of it.”
“The brewery is your business too,” Ava says like duh.
I haven’t shared the news of my selling it to Jax. I’m not ready to hear the opinions on the matter yet.
“I’ll ride with Ava,” I tell them.
They nod, and we follow them to the brewery. I cover my mouth when we pull in. The front windows are busted, the exterior is spray-painted with neon colors—the words illegible—and the sign looks as if someone attempted to kick it in but didn’t have the muscle to do so.
“This is weird,” Ava says, parking her car.
“Way weird,” I grumble, my skin crawling.
Even though I don’t work here as much as Jax and the guys, I still feel violated. This is our business that we’ve worked so hard on, and then some asshole came to destroy it.
Jax’s eyes are trained on me, as if there weren’t two police officers and a rambling Ava at my side, as we approach him and Toby.
Toby is taking pictures of the damage with his phone.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” His gaze remains focused on me. “We checked the cameras, but the line had been cut. My guess is punk kids, probably trying to score alcohol for their next bonfire.”
Kyle taps his finger against his cheek and stares at his nephew in concern. “Any chance it could be Mick and Sandra?”
Jax finally looks away from me to answer him. “Nah, we haven’t heard from them again. Considering all their illegal activity, I’m sure they’ll stay away. Their attorney contacted us, and I forwarded him to our lawyer. Since then, nothing.”
“But what about Amelia’s tires?” Ava asks. “The two have to be connected. Blue Beech isn’t a place known for its high crime.”
She’s right. It’s like Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood half the time.
I motion with my finger slicing across my throat to get her to shush it.
Ava’s eyes widen, and she mouths, Sorry, to me.
Jax’s attention snaps back to me. “What happened to your tires?”
My face flushes. “Someone slashed them.”
“What the fuck?” he roars, shocking everyone but me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why would I tell you?”
“Because you’re …” His voice trails off as everyone awaits his answer.
I raise a brow. “Because I’m what?”
He changes the subject. “I called a contractor to look at the damage, and he’ll be here tomorrow. Toby is boarding up the windows and keeping an eye on the brewery tonight.” He looks at Ava. “I’ll take Amelia home.”
I can’t help but smirk and correct him, “Ava will take me home.”
Jax throws his arms up and shakes his head. “Fine. Then, I will follow you and Ava to your house. You’re not staying there alone.”
“I’ll stay with Ava then.” My attention swings to Ava. “You want to have a sleepover?”
“What is happening?” I hear Gage ask Kyle in the distance.
“My guess is, Jax likes Amelia, but she doesn’t like him at the moment,” Kyle replies with a chuckle.
“I work a double tonight.” Ava chews on her lip, apology on her face. “But the loft is all yours, Amelia.”
Like most of my friends, she’s still at her parents’, living in the loft above their garage.
“Looks like we’re having a sleepover at Ava’s,” Jax says, feigning excitement.
“I think the fuck not,” Gage shouts from behind Jax.
Jax lowers his voice, as if he’s sick of our audience. “I’m only trying to protect you.”
Ava, who apparently has the ears of a moth, chimes in again, “She can stay with her dad to keep her safe, or my dad is literally a cop who lives, like, five feet from my loft. She’s covered in the safety department.”
“Thanks for the town directory, but I don’t give a shit about any of that,” Jax tells Ava before tapping his watch. “And didn’t you say you have to work? Get to the hospital and save lives. Amelia has to stay, so we can discuss a few things as partners.”
“I am so happy I accepted all dares to spit in your cups when we were kids,” Ava says to Jax before turning and giving me a what do you want me to do look.
“Go ahead,” I grumble. “I’ll get rid of him and call you when I make it to the loft.”
Jax snorts.
She hugs me good-bye. Kyle and Gage ask all the questions cops need to know when your business has been trashed, and when they leave, I childishly kick Jax in the shin.
“What the fuck?” he hisses, bending over.
“Really?” I coldly glare at him. “You just made a scene as if I were a teenager being scolded.”
“Eh, I think it’s more of a toddler being scolded because that’s the current age you’re acting.”
“I don’t need you, Jax.”
“Too bad because I need you.”