“Don’t walk away, Jax. Something is off with you this week. Is it this Mr. Lovey Pants you’re seeing?”
He busts out laughing and then pulls me into a big hug. “Mr. Lovey Pants?”
“What’s going on?”
He sighs and kisses my head then pulls away and sits on the desk, swinging his feet. “His name is Logan. I thought it would be a quick fuck, as usual, but it’s… not.” He shrugs as if he’s at a complete loss, and I take his hand in mine and squeeze.
“What is it?”
“Hell if I know. The sex is crazy. He’s thoughtful and nice and I stayed the night with him. Twice.”
“Wow,” I reply with raised brows. “That’s very un-Jax.”
“Yeah, you’re usually the only one I like to cuddle with.” He grins and tweaks my nose with his fingertip then his face sobers. “It’s been hard to slide into second place on your priority list.”
I blink at him in surprise. “Do you think that’s what’s happened since I’ve been back with Mark? I’ve been sleeping with him less than a week.”
“That is what’s happened, cheesecake. But it would have happened sooner or later, no matter who you’re seeing. I get it. It just doesn’t feel good.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I love you, Jax. You’re always going to be important to me, no matter what.”
“I know. I’m stuck with you. It’s a burden I bear bravely.”
I laugh and shake my head at him, but I can’t help but feel guilty. I haven’t spent any time with Jax outside of being at the studio, and we’re always working when we’re here.
“Do you have plans with Logan tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Well I’ll tell you what. I’ll cancel with Mr. Hot Tamale and you’ll cancel with Mr. Lovey Pants and you and I will go get mani/pedi’s.”
He looks surprised for a moment, then tosses his head back and forth like he’s contemplating my offer. “Hmm, hot sex or mani/pedi’s. That’s a toughie.”
“If you’re good, we can go home and eat ice cream and watch Pretty Woman.”
“I’m not that much of a girl,” he replies, offended. “We’ll watch Pitch Perfect.”
“Not that much of a girl, huh.” He flips me off again and I laugh. “Go call Logan.”
He hugs me and grins down at me. “Thank you.”
“If you don’t beat me to the Blu-ray player, I’m putting in Pretty Woman.”
“You’re a bitch.”
“Absolutely.”
He laughs and pulls his phone out of his pocket as he walks away. I lift my own phone and dial Mark’s number.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he answers.
“Well hello there,” I reply with a grin. “Hey, I have to cancel on you tonight.”
“Cheating on me already?” he asks with a laugh.
“Yes. I’m so relieved you understand.”
“Wait. I don’t like this game anymore.”
I chuckle and throw my sunglasses and scarf into my handbag. “Jax has some stuff going on, and he kind of misses me, so he and I are going to have GGN tonight.”
“What is GGN?”
“Gay Girl Night.”
Mark laughs in earnest over the phone for several seconds before clearing his throat and saying, “What, exactly, does that involve?”
“The spa, ice cream and chick flicks.”
“Have fun,” he says quickly, as though he’s afraid I might invite him along.
“Sorry for the short notice. Rain check?”
“No problem. Why don’t I bring you coffee in the morning?”
“Jax and I have an early rehearsal tomorrow. We’re gearing up for the LA trip. I have a break before the first class at about 9:30, but you’ll be at work by then.”
“I’ll take a break. That’s one of the perks of being the boss.”
I grin and feel my stomach tighten at the tone of his voice. “I’d like that.”
“See you then, sweetheart.”
“Bye.” I hang up just as Jax returns from our changing room. “Ready?”
“Let’s go.” He holds the door open for me, locks it behind us and takes my hand as we walk down the street to the nail place.
***
“Why don’t we do this more often?” Jax asks as we sit and wait for my nails to dry. Our feet and hands are soft and rested.
Well, our hands are soft. Our feet will never be soft again.
“I’m tipping our pedicurists extra. No one should have to ever touch our feet.”
“Good call,” he says and sighs contentedly. “Do we have ice cream at home?”
“Yes. I think that’s all we have in the freezer right now.”
When my pink nails are all dry, we set off to the apartment, drop our bags inside the doorway and race to the Blu-Ray player. Jax beats me by two steps.
“Ha! Pitch Perfect it is!”
“Just don’t sing along this time. For someone with such great rhythm, you are completely tone-deaf, my friend.”
“I am not.”
“Starla paid you extra to make you stop singing. You do the math.”
I settle on the couch, flopped back in the cushions, my feet on the coffee table and hands folded over my belly as Jax heads to the kitchen for our dinner.