“Keeping things casual. Nothing serious,” he clarifies.
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to settledown, you know.”
“Says my single older brother who thrives in the bachelor lifestyle. Have you ever had a relationship?”
“I’ve dated a few women, but haven’t found someone I want to be serious with,” I answer, but what I don’t tell him is that I would’ve absolutely asked a woman I was with over six years ago to be in a relationship with me had I not fucked it all up. Instead, I steer the conversation back on his love life, or lack thereof. “Are you still avoiding relationships because of her?” I don’t say her name because I know it’ll only set him off. Even after all these years, he still can’t speak about her.
“Don’t go there,” Jax grits, just like I thought he would.
“Alright, sorry J. Let me make it up to you. Meet me at the Wolf Den tonight for a bite to eat and I’ll buy you a beer.”
“You buy dinner too and you’ve got yourself a deal,” he throws back.
“Fine, dinner too, you frugal fuck.”
“Not all of us got a big fancy contract like you, big bro. What time?”
“Um, not sure yet. I’ll text you.”
“Wait, why? Do you have other plans? You never have plans.”
“I’m, ah, giving guitar lessons this afternoon and I’m not sure how long it’ll take.”
The line is silent on the other end for so long I think the call disconnected.
“To who?” Jax finally asks.
I’m hesitant to reply. “Gemma Carlisle.”
“As in the little sister of the girl who got away?”
“As in the owner’s granddaughter. I’m just giving her a few lessons as a favor to Scarlett.”
“Oh ho ho, this is going to be good. Can’t wait to hear how yourfavorfor Little Red Riding Hood goes. Text me the time later.”
Before I can respond, he hangs up and I grip the wheel, already annoyed with all the shit he’s going to give me tonight.
Just over an hour later, with my guitar case in hand, I pause in front of a set of large oak doors. After I ring the doorbell, I hear who I think is Scar holler, “Shit, is he really here already?”
A moment later, the doors open and Gunner peeks out before yelling over his shoulder, “Yep, he’s here!”
“Hey, Champ. How’s it going?”
“Heya, Cap! It’s okay, Scar is kinda going crazy that you’re coming over.”
I chuckle as his eyes widen and he folds his lips in on themselves like he wasn’t supposed to let me in on that last bit.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep that last part to myself.” I kneel and set my case on the ground, waving him closer. “Why is she going crazy?” I whisper.
“She says the house is messy.”
“Ah, well that’s understandable. You guys have been busy,” I tell him, giving him a pat on the back. “Think she’ll be less flustered if I do Gemma’s lessons on the front porch?”
“What does fluss-ed mean?”
“Flustered,” I correct. “It means—” I stumble over how to define the word in terms a five-year-old will understand. “I’m asking if she’ll be less crazy if we do it out here.”
“Who are you callingcrazy?” Scarlett asks in a tone that raises the hair on the back of my neck. Shit.
