AJ's Salvation (6 page)

“We should head back, Alessia,” Jam told her even though it was the last thing he wanted. Their kiss had put him in a kind of bubble where no past existed and no future loomed over the happy horizon. In that bubble, there was only the present; the only time he’d ever allow himself to admit he still wanted her. Maybe even more after seeing her with his son and hearing about the life she had created.

“Alessia,” she repeated, her own name dripping with venom as if she hated nothing more. He ignored it, getting up. As much as he wanted to help her up, he didn’t trust himself enough not to pull her into his arms right away and hold onto her as if she’d be able to make his world right again.

They made their whole way in silence, and as much as he was itching to apologize, he didn’t. Aly wouldn’t understand why he was apologizing. The kiss was something he’d never apologize for in a million years, yet she would think that way. The only thing he was sorry for was never having done that when she was still all doe-eyed about him. When their feelings had been innocent and untamed. 

There was nothing doe-eyed about Alessia Rhyme now.

“Where are you staying while you’re here?” she finally asked as they reached her house. Jam looked at her, but she didn’t meet his eyes any longer. Her voice was cold and distant.

“Miss Rome has a spare bedroom, and she told me I could use it. I hadn’t planned on anything else. I didn’t think I’d be staying that long, so my car it was. I can’t exactly pay rent, so she told me I could fix things in her house in exchange for food and a bed.” He shrugged, actually looking forward to some manual labor. He wanted to exhaust his body so he would have a dreamless night. He needed to get Aly out of his system, even if it seemed a futile intention.

“I need to talk to Dorly. She can’t just take strangers in. What if you’d been a killer? I happen to like that woman.” Aly tried to joke, but the humor got lost since she couldn’t even bring herself to smile.

“Jamison, why don’t you come over? I need something from the top shelf,” the object of their talk called from the porch next door, waving. 

Aly laughed quietly, shaking her head. Jam loved seeing her like that. “Come over tonight and hang out with Alessandro. I’m sure he’d love that,” she offered, softening her words with a wink. 

“I sure can come back here, but remember it will be just you and me then? Do you want that?” He turned to her, looking at her face. She wanted it. The realization slammed into him like a baseball bat. The longing in her eyes was obvious even from where he stood.

“No, wouldn’t want to have you and me sitting in silence because you refuse to talk to me about anything that’s important. Tell Dorly hey.” With that, she went inside, and Jam suppressed the impulse to call after her. Instead, he went over to the old lady.

“Watching you two is like seeing a romance play out on two different sides of a wall,” Miss Rome commented, and Jam looked at her.

“I’m caught in a nightmare, and she’s a daydream. We are two sides of a coin, and I don’t think we’ll ever see eye to eye,” he explained, and the old lady arched her brow.

“You aren’t one of those people who thinks love conquers all?” She wanted to know, and Jam choked out a laugh.

“Miss, I’m standing in a black hell. Are you sure you want me to pull Aly and Alessandro down, too?” God, Jam had never hated himself more than he did at that moment. 

“Tell me, what did you do? What’s that big secret between you and her? What are you two not telling me? What are you not telling her?” Jam gave her a grin, shaking his head. 

“You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are,” he teased. 

“Subtle? I asked outright. And I swear I’ll find out. You’ll tell me your secret, boy, trust me,” she insisted, and he sighed, deciding to change the topic.

“So what’s it you need of me now?” he asked instead, and she grinned sheepishly. 

“You needed to get away or she would have probably torn down your walls right there and then,” Miss Rome admitted. “You didn’t look ready to have that happen just yet. But while you ask, I still have that drawer that needs fixing, and I was thinking my porch needs a new coat of paint. What a coincidence that I have the paint, too.” 

“Yes, what a lucky turn.” He laughed. He wasn’t ready to paint outside, but he was sure there was more than enough to do inside the house.

Night had settled, and Jam noticed with pleasure that his muscles felt thoroughly used. Besides the drawer, he had fixed some broken boards on the front porch and a missing piece of the railing outside. Not only did the porch need a new coat of paint, but also the whole house. He figured he’d see how long he was going to stay and then maybe get to the remainder. Cleaning his hands in the kitchen sink, his eyes rose to the house next door. There was a single light on, illuminating the porch, and a woman standing there, staring out at the dark waves.

“I always thought I’d see the day when Alessia was standing there, her expression thoughtful, until a guy walked out and embraced her from behind. He’d kiss her neck, and she’d turn around, shining brighter than the Northern Star. The years passed by, and it never happened. She’s still there almost every night,” his host mumbled next to him. Jam squinted, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t read the expression on her face. 

“Miss Rome …”

“Would you call me Dorly, please? I feel so damn old otherwise,” she fussed, and he grinned, pointing at her white hair wordlessly. “Tactful, Mister Loane, pointing out the age of a woman.” She then huffed, and he sobered, bowing.

“I sincerely apologize for pointing out the obvious,” he teased, and she playfully slapped him. Jam liked her a lot and figured his own grandmother would be like that if he hadn’t lost her when he was young.

“You should laugh more often. It makes you seem so much younger,” Dorly commented thoughtfully, and Jam turned away from her again to watch Alessia.

“What I wanted to say was that I can’t see her face clearly from here. How do you know she looks serious? Maybe she’s smiling because she remembers something.” 

“Jamison, I know her. Trust me. She’s a woman at twenty-eight, and she has a silent night because her son is gone. I don’t remember when that last happened since Tom usually stays over and not the other way around. All she’s thinking about is how life would have been different if someone, let’s say you, for the sake of the argument, would have led her down the altar before creating a family with her. Seeing you again probably makes her lonelier than ever. Ten years of no kisses and stolen moments will do that to a woman. I always thought that maybe there just wasn’t the right guy yet, but she didn’t even invite them in to find out if they were the wrong ones. Who does that?” It was a rhetorical question, so Jam stayed quiet. “A woman in love, that’s who.”

“You sure you should be telling me all that? I don’t exactly think this is your business.”

Dorly waved him off with a noise that sounded a lot like a balloon slowly losing air. “Please, I’m an old woman. I butt into everyone’s business. After all, nothing’s better than love stories and conspiracies, right?” She winked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

As much as he wished he could be living in her world of glitter and romance, it just wasn’t in the cards for him. Staring at Aly motionless on her porch, though, he wanted to be that man for her—the one she deserved, the one who would carry her over all obstacles.

“Go over, son. You never know what healing properties a night can have.”

“What if instead it utterly destroys us? Besides, she wants answers I cannot give her. If I walk over there and do what my hearts tells me to do, she’ll be even more curious. She never knew what she meant to me.” It was weird saying those words out loud, but they were so true. He had been in love with her since he could remember. He and Greg were friends early on, so when Greg’s little sister was born, it was almost like fate for Jam. Over the years, he had fallen for her, first as a friend and then, once he had gotten a little older, as more than that. It had taken him years to gather the courage to tell her when one careless slip ruined it all. Collene had entered the picture, and Jam had done everything to make his wrong right. Not that Aly knew any of this.

“Why?” Dorly asked, and Jam took a deep breath, thinking the answer over.

“Because it would have meant being an object of hate and torture in high school.”

Dorly laughed. “Everyone feels like that in high school, Jamison. It’s why everyone is so glad to get out of there.” She had no idea. High school was hell for the people living in one town with the Karmison family. 

They both watched Aly for a moment longer, hanging onto their own thoughts, and then Dorly turned to him again. “You’re far away from school now. As it is, I’m guessing you are far away from home, too. What are you afraid of, Jamison?” ‘Everything’ probably wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear, so Jam stayed quiet. Could he dare to take one night out of his life? He just had to try. For all he knew, she’d turn him away anyway.

Nodding at nothing in particular, he walked out of the house. The wind blowing in from the water instantly caught in his shirt and cooled down his overheated body during the few steps it took him to stand in front of Aly, just like the day before.

She wore a long knitted jacket that evening, holding it together over her stomach while carrying a glass of white wine in the other hand.

“Let’s pretend you just turned sixteen. Nothing has been lost yet. We still have all the possibilities in the world, and I haven’t been stupid yet. Just for tonight, let’s have what we should have had all those years back,” he pleaded, opening his arms to show they had all the possibilities in the world for the night.

“What?” She looked at him as if he had grown another head. Maybe not exactly another head, but definitely another personality. 

“For today, let me be the guy you always thought I was.” Jam could see it. She was turning him down, and he couldn’t even be mad at her.

“You want to be the guy I thought you were at sixteen,” she mumbled in disbelief, and he was ready to leave but still nodded. “Sorry to tell you, but I don’t have my virginity any longer.” She winked, and it took a moment until he caught her meaning, but then he couldn’t help but grin.

“That’s who you thought I’d be for you?” Jam inquired, and Aly carelessly pulled up her shoulder, a secret smile playing over her lips. He didn’t plan to sleep with her. In fact, he didn’t even plan to let her touch skin except for where it was showing, but the thought still sent tingles of heat through his body.

He took a step toward her, and she lowered her wine glass to the porch railing. “Jam, this night is not back then. This night is today, in all the mess that’s you showing up here.”

“I didn’t say it had to be that night. I just want us to be like that,” he explained, and she threw up her arms. 

“I was hopelessly in love with you back then and had nowhere to go with those feelings.” That was all he needed to finally move close to her. 

“Well, now you do,” he whispered against her lips before walking them back until her body hit the door and the full length of his body touched hers. This was nothing like the kiss they had shared earlier and everything like the kiss he had planned to give her back then. Aly was surprised, that much was obvious, but then her arms wrapped around him and he breathed a sigh of relief. The desperate kissing quickly turned into something less frantic but equally intense. 

“Let’s go inside,” she whispered, and he put her down on her own feet again, not even having realized he had picked her up. “You want some wine?”

He slowly nodded even though he wasn’t the guy for wine. It was too exquisite for his taste, and he was usually a simple man.

Aly poured him a glass and Jam watched her, glad he no longer needed an excuse. “I don’t have beer here or I would have offered you some,” she admitted, appearing flustered. Was she getting nervous because he was in the house with her? He liked that thought much more than he cared to admit.

“It’s good. Means your man’s still too little to have some and no one else is here often enough for you to be prepared,” he explained, gently swirling the glass between his fingers.