Page 31 of The Compass Series

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Joy said after the guys drove off. “He really needs a friend.”

If only she knew how much I needed one, too.

“I’m going to be honest, you might be a little underwhelmed by Marshmallow. The guy can be a bit of an asshole,” Jax explained as we drove into town. I tried my best not to show my anxiety about being in a vehicle, but I was losing the battle. Thankfully, we arrived within ten minutes.

I gave him a tight smile. “I don’t see myself ever being disappointed by a famous small-town cat. Besides, I kind of have a thing for the assholes of this town,” I joked as he pulled up and parked on the curb in front of the coffee shop.

He smiled a little, and my heart did a flip.

“I like when you smile,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt. “It reminds me of younger Jax.”

“Your smiles kind of make me want to smile more,” he confessed, hopping out of the car.

We walked into the coffee shop, and I ordered my drink, which Jax refused to let me pay for. “You can get mine next time,” he offered.

My heart skipped a beat at the idea of a next time with him. He had no idea how many more next times I wanted with him.

We sat down at a table, and I kept looking around for Marshmallow as I sipped at what might’ve been the best chai tea latte I’d ever had in my life. That cup alone was enough to keep me in Havenbarrow. And the banana loaf? Oh my gosh, it melted in my mouth.

“This is probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” I moaned, licking the crumbs off my fingers.

Jax snickered. “Don’t let Gary from the café hear you say that. He and the owner here have been going back and forth for decades about who makes the best banana loaves.”

“Okay, but I’m just saying. I could eat fifty slices of this and not get tired of it.

Honestly, I’ve probably eaten more carbs in the past few weeks of being in Havenbarrow than I have in my whole life due to people bringing me sweets.

I swear, I’m almost certain they are trying to make me gain the small-town fifteen or something. ”

“Knowing the women in this town, I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Well, as long as I don’t own a scale and I have a pair of yoga pants that fit, I’m A-OK with packing on the weight,” I joked as I leaned forward and stole a piece of Jax’s banana loaf. “Now, where’s this cat?”

“Probably sleeping or pissing on someone’s foot,” Jax said, glancing around. “I kid you not, three years ago that little fucker walked up to me as I was getting my coffee and peed on my shoe—like a psychopath.”

I tried my best to hold in my chuckle, but I couldn’t help it. The idea of a cat pissing on Jax killed me. “What did you do to him to make him mad?”

He sat back, baffled by my question. “What did I do? Are you joking? I was just getting coffee!”

“Maybe he was upset that you were in his territory. You know, only one asshole per coffee shop and all.”

“He’s like that to everyone.” Jax shrugged. “He’s Mr. Personality around these parts.”

I smirked at the nickname. He didn’t have a clue that that was what I’d been calling him for a solid week when I arrived in town. I’d keep that secret close to my chest.

Just then, a big, plump white cat came out from around back and yawned as he stretched his legs.

“Oh. My. Gosh!” I squealed, leaping up from my seat. He was the cutest thing I’d ever seen in my whole life. “Hi there, friend.” I beamed as I approached him.

“Uh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Jax said, backing his chair farther away from the approaching feline.

I grinned his way. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little pussy cat.”

“Trust me, I’m not afraid of pussy,” he said, and his suggestive words sent a pool of heat to my core. “But I am terrified of that beast.”

I rolled my eyes and sat down on the coffee shop floor in front of Marshmallow. I held my arms out in front of me. “Come get some loving,” I ordered.

“Sun, wait—” Before Jax could finish his sentence, Marshmallow was in my lap, purring away. He rolled over for belly rubs, and it looked to me as if he was having the time of his life. “Holy crap,” Jax muttered. “He likes you.”

“I’m a likable person.”

He smiled but didn’t say anything else. He sat back in amusement as Marshmallow and me became the best of friends.

“Maybe I read that guy wrong,” he commented, standing up and walking in our direction. As he grew closer, Marshmallow hissed and hurried away. “Fuck you too, Marsh,” Jax replied, flipping him off.

I laughed and picked myself up off the ground. “Some people and cats just don’t connect I guess.”

“It’s not shocking that he liked you. You are hard not to like,” Jax said, sipping at his drink. I sat back in my chair and stared at him, and while I stared at him, everyone—and I mean everyone—was staring at us.

“Is it just me, or are we being watched?” I asked, biting my bottom lip.

“Yeah. This town has a way of being pretty invasive in other people’s lives. Normally, I just do this,” he said as he held up both his middle fingers. A few customers gasped at his gesture, calling him a jerk.

I laughed. “First the cat and now the people.”

“I’m an equal opportunist with my hatred. I hate everything and everyone with the same amount of annoyance.”

“Even me?” I joked.

His eyes grew somber for a split second, and the small smile on his lips began to fade. “I could never hate you, Kennedy. Trust me, a long time ago, I tried.”

His words rocked me sideways as I narrowed my eyes. “Wait, what? Why would you try to hate me?”

He shook his head and cleared his throat. “Doesn’t matter, it was a long time ago.”

I reached across the table and placed my hand on his. “No, Jax. It does matter—to me at least. Why would you try to hate me?”

Before he could reply, a voice cut us off. “Seriously, Jax?”

I looked up to see a beautiful woman standing in front of us. She had wavy brown locks of hair and deep brown eyes that matched. She was wearing nursing scrubs, and the sadness in her features pained me, even though I didn’t know who she was.

“Amanda,” Jax said, his voice stern.

She didn’t say anything, but her eyes fell to my hand resting on Jax’s and then she looked back at him.

He reluctantly pulled his hand away from mine. “Listen, Amanda?—”

Slap.

It took me aback watching her hand make contact with his cheek. Jax was also stunned based on the way he shook his head in shock.

“Screw you, Jax,” she said as her eyes filled with emotions. “You told me you weren’t seeing anyone.”

“I’m not,” he said.

My hands flew to my chest. “Oh, no. We aren’t—he and I—” I stuttered, unsure why I felt so nervous. Is that what she thinks? That Jax and I are seeing one another? “We aren’t seeing each other. We are just friends.”

She eyed me up and down as she crossed her arms. “Yeah right, new girl. Everybody knows Jax doesn’t have friends. He doesn’t know how to be a friend, the same way he didn’t know how to be a boyfriend.”

“Now wait a minute,” I started, but Jax held a hand up.

“It’s okay, Kennedy. She’s right.”

No, she wasn’t.

I stayed quiet out of respect for Jax, but inside my blood was starting to boil.

I couldn’t believe how nasty this woman was being just because she saw Jax and me out with one another.

It was clear they used to be in a relationship, but it was over and done with.

For her to belittle him—to slap him—was completely uncalled for.

“Good luck,” she told me, pushing her purse strap up her shoulder. “Don’t be surprised when you try to open him up and you’re hit with a cement block. He’s the definition of emotionally unavailable.”

She turned to him and huffed loudly. “I should’ve known you’d turn out to be just like your father, you heartless prick.” She walked off, leaving a heaviness floating around us.

I saw the invisible knife that she’d shoved deeply into Jax’s chest. His body cringed from the painfulness of her words before he looked up at me. He seemed completely deflated as his lips parted. “I think we should head out.”

“Yeah, okay.” I grabbed my purse, and we walked back to his truck.

As we drove, I didn’t close my eyes once.

I couldn’t stop staring at Jax, wondering what was going through his mind.

I wanted to ask, but I also didn’t want to come off as needy.

His knuckles were pale white as he gripped the steering wheel in front of him and his mouth twitched every now and again.

As he pulled up to my house, he turned the truck off and looked my way. “Sorry about all that.”

“You did nothing wrong.”

“Yeah, all right. Well, I guess I’ll talk to you?—”

“Do you want to keep hanging out?” I offered. “I know that was a lot back there, and I could tell she got under your skin, but we can still hang out. It’s early, it’s Saturday, and the weather is nice. We can sit in my parents’ convertible and just talk, or not talk—whatever you want to do.”

He flicked his nose with his thumb. “I feel like I want to be alone for a while, Kennedy.”

“Yeah, of course. I get you wanting to be alone—truly, I do…but just be alone with me.”

He hesitated for a moment, so I figured I could make the pot even sweeter.

“I have a bottle of my father’s favorite whiskey that we can finish off, and believe me when I say my father only drank the good stuff.”

He snickered. “It’s only eleven in the morning.”

“Oh. Right. Well, I also have my mother’s favorite coffee beans, so we can drink the coffee this morning and tap into the whiskey tonight.”

“You want to spend the whole day with me?” he asked, surprised.

“The whole day, and the whole night.”

We did exactly that, too. We headed inside and drank numerous coffee beverages.

I did most of the talking, which mimicked much of what our childhood was like, and Jax listened with ease.

I told him more stories about my parents and Daisy and more stories about my past, and whenever I’d laugh out loud, he’d smile and look at me as if I were the sun.

We talked about our careers, and he told me how he’d planned to buy every book I’ve published so far.

He told me about his father’s land and how he planned to make the property everything his mother dreamed of once it was passed down to him. “She was never able to achieve her dreams. I want to see them through for her,” he said.

I could tell it was hard for him to talk about his mother, but I was glad he was speaking about her. If I’d learned anything over the past few weeks, it was that talking about your loved ones kept them alive, and I needed that. I was certain Jax needed that, too.

When we broke out the whiskey that night, we headed out to my parents’ convertible to drink underneath the stars and the moon.

My favorite thing about sitting beside Jax was that even when it was quiet, when the conversations faded and we were left with nothing but the silence, the stillness felt healing. Being quiet with him was one of my favorite things about the moments we shared that day.

After we had a little too much to drink, Jax placed his hands behind his head and looked up toward the sky.

“I don’t want to be like him,” he confessed.

“Like my father. Amanda said that earlier, and she said it a few weeks back, too. I’m sure people in this town think I’m like him, but I don’t want to be. He was a monster.”

“You’re not your father.”

He shook his head. “You haven’t known me for years. You can’t really say that.”

“Yes, I can.”

“How so?”

“Because your character hasn’t changed throughout the years.

You are the same gentle boy you were before.

This town, these people don’t see it, though, because they are too stuck on their prejudices and judgmental ways based on a tragedy that happened years ago.

What they don’t see is the kindness in your eyes, the way you help people when they aren’t looking, the way you give yourself to those who are in need, the way you care so quietly.

You’re the same beautiful soul I loved all those years before, Jax, and you are nothing like your father. ”

He closed his eyes. “Promise?”

I placed my hand on his thigh. “Promise.”

His eyes opened quickly and fell to my hand. “Every time you do that, I feel as if I’m waking up again.”

“Do what?”

“Touch me.”

I swallowed hard at his words, and I wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey or the swirl of emotions inside me that was making my mind spin. “I missed you, Moon,” I confessed.

“I missed you more. I missed your light so damn much. I’d been living in darkness for so long…I missed you…”

“What did you mean before when you said you tried to hate me?”

“Because you stopped writing,” he explained.

“I felt like when your letters stopped coming, I didn’t want to care about you anymore.

After I lost my mother, I needed your letters, and when they stopped, I wanted to hate you.

I hated myself more, though, because I was certain you stopped writing because of what I told you about what happened to my mom.

I figured you thought I was a murderer.”

I gasped and my eyes narrowed. “I never received those letters from you.”

“What?”

“Jax, you stopped writing me. I never received any letters about what happened to your mother, or what happened to you. I mean, hell, I kept writing you for a whole year after your letters stopped coming. I showed up to summer camp, hoping you’d be waiting there for me with answers.

I would’ve never stopped writing you, and I would’ve never thought those awful things about you. ”

Confusion lined his features. “You wrote me?”

“Yes. I was heartbroken when your letters stopped coming.” I sat up in the driver’s seat and turned toward him. “I would’ve been there for you, Jax. I would’ve forced my parents to drive me to wherever you were so I could help you grieve. I would’ve been by your side.”

“You were my sun,” he said. “After your letters stopped, the world became that much darker.”

I took his hands in mine and squeezed them. “I’m so sorry you went through that. I hate that you spent that time thinking I turned on you. I would never do that. You were my moon, my best friend.”

He looked down at our interlaced hands. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Anything.”

“The day I realized it was you, it turned back on.”

“What turned back on?”

“My heart.”