My face flushed red. She seemed to know exactly the reason why I had kept my time with Jax so secret. "It was too embarrassing to talk about at first. But I'm doing okay now, so what the hell."

She leaned forward. "But honey, are you handling it okay? All the concealer in the world can't hide those dark circles under your eyes. Your butt has been parked in that chair all day, so I know you didn't go get lunch." Her eyes suddenly grew worried. "Have you even eaten at all today?"

I jutted out my chin and glared at her. "Cereal this morning."

"That's it?" Jen exclaimed. "Look, I know the symptoms of a broken heart. And you've got all of them."

I frowned, but her words cut me to the core. My heart might have been broken, but couldn't she see I was moving on? I exhaled a shaky breath. "No I don't. I'm way better off without him. Actually, I'm glad we broke up, because my life is complicated enough without all his drama."

Jen gave me a critical look and stood up. "Uh huh. Right. There's only one remedy for heartbreak. Let's ditch the other girls and you and I will go get dinner. You can talk all you want. Or not. Whatever you want to do is fine. But it's never good to just sit and stew over some asshole who doesn't appreciate a good thing when he sees it."

Her words sent an unexpected shiver of hurt down my spine. Jax appreciates me. It's just too hard for him to fight for me.

"It's not like that," I protested. "He cares about me." A lump rose in my throat. "And I care about him too."

"Then why did you break up?" Jen asked, her voice soft.

Tears formed in the corner of my eyes. "I don't know. Our lives are too different. Like I said, I'm better off."

Jen reached out and squeezed my shoulder. "Love isn't something you can talk yourself out of. If you feel that way, and he does too, maybe there's a way you can make it work after all."

I shook my head as a tear coursed down my cheek. I had wanted to make it work, but nothing would ever have been enough to stop Jax's pain from tearing us apart. "I tried. I can't try anymore."

Glancing at her watch, Jen stood up. "Come on, I think you need a drink."

"It's really not that bad," I said, wishing we'd never started this conversation. I'd been doing so well—or so I'd thought. "Thanks for the offer, but I should stay here." I wiped my eyes and gestured towards my computer. "I should finish this. Rain check?"

Jen's brow furrowed, but then she gave me a reluctant smile. "I'm holding you to that. Next week?"

"Sure," I said, turning back to my computer screen and pretending to be lost in a column of numbers. "Have a good weekend."

"You too." Jen's footsteps padded away as she left my cubicle.

The minute she was gone, I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair. My head throbbed.

Maybe Jen was right, and I should eat. Getting up, I headed into the break room to go forage for food in the breakroom. Maybe someone left a ramen packet in there for poor fools like me who had to work late.

I opened a cupboard, and my tired eyes scanned the contents. A stack of packaged ramen noodles stood in the corner, looking forlorn. Oh joy.

As I waited for the microwave to cook my unappetizing dinner, I sat down at the table. In the center stood two shakers, one salt, and one pepper.

Pepper. His stupid nickname for me.

My breath caught in my throat. I reached for the shaker and closed my eyes tight. It's like he's everywhere.

The ache in my heart suddenly hurt as fresh as the moment Jax wounded it. I tried to block the fleeting images, but they appeared in front of my eyes like they'd been burned into me permanently: Jax's rough hands caressing my body. His intense look of lust as he saw me naked for the first time. His hair, twisted around my fingers on the pillow in the morning sun.

A deep longing settled like a weight on my chest. Jax had been mine. I'd loved him, and having him for such a short time only made the hurt feel worse.

I curled my hand into a tight fist around the pepper shaker, digging my nails into the soft skin of my palms. But feeling this way wasn't something I could keep on doing. The truth was, Jax's problems had turned out to be more than our love for each other could handle.

I had to face the reality: I wasn't like Kristen. There was no perfect love waiting to sweep me off my feet, and believing there was had come close to costing me my job—or my life.

So I'd put my nose to the grindstone, get my work done. I'd find someone new. Somebody compatible and reasonable and perfectly suitable, not just someone who made my heart beat faster every time I saw him.

I took one last look at the pepper shaker before flinging it at the wall with enough force to make it bounce off the tile floor as I turned to leave the kitchen.

I'd never love anyone as much as I'd loved Jax.

But maybe it was better that way.

Chapter Twenty

FUCK

Jax

I slowly opened my eyes, then stared at the unfamiliar ceiling and closed them again with a sigh. This wasn't my bedroom.

After opening them again, I groaned and rolled myself to a seated position. Leather creaked beneath me as I moved. Couch. The couch on the bus. Not too bad. I must have passed out after a night out drinking.

As I took stock of my surroundings, I saw a nearly empty whiskey bottle sitting on the coffee table, practically taunting me.

So that was why I was feeling like such shit. My head spun. That was about right.

It had been two weeks in hell after Riley had left. The nightmares were gone, along with all the other shit that had been plaguing me from the PTSD. The doc had been right about Riley. She'd been the trigger.

But having her gone wasn't helping my music. The band was in the middle of a recording session, and every song I wrote sucked. I knew it. But there was nothing I could do.

Riley's face haunted me wherever I went, no matter what I was doing. So after our recording session inevitably broke up with everyone pissed off, I drank. Tried to forget. And failed, every damn time.

I rubbed my hands over my face, then grabbed the whiskey bottle off the table. If this doesn't kill me, her memory will anyway. Grimacing, I opened the bottle, craned my neck back, and took a slug. As I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Sky emerged from her bedroom and came into the common area where I sat. Her eyes locked on mine. I set the whiskey bottle down, and she frowned.

"You look like you got hit by a truck," she said, dropping down on the couch next to me. Her eyes seemed serious as she studied my face.

I shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "Well, it's nothing you haven't seen before."

She exhaled. "No, this is different," she said. Leaning forward, she peered at me with an intense expression on her face. "You're different."

I drew my brows together. I didn't like where this was going. "Just need a little more hair of the dog," I replied, unable to keep the irritation out of my voice. "Then I'll be fine."

"No, Jax, you're not fine," she said, then hesitated for a moment, biting her lip. "I've been wanting to talk to you about it."

I groaned. "Can we have your episode of Intervention sometime when I'm not hungover?"