The Throwout

More of the story of Storm and Jax..


**

“Good to see you survived your evening.”  He jests, and those perfect little bow shaped lips twitch at the corners into the most adorable grin I have ever seen.

“By the time I ran into you last night, I had been up for almost 24 hours.” My cheeks start to flame as I continue. “If it wasn’t for my publisher, I likely would still be in bed. “

Jax rights himself and crosses to the side of the table . I can no longer feel him standing next to me, and the lack of his warmth draws a shiver from me. Pulling the chair directly to my left out, he asks, “Mind if I join you.”

“Please do.” Shit did that sound too eager? It was too eager. I am such a douche.

Jax sits and I take him in. He is wearing a ripped concert tee and leather jacket that has become his signature look over the  months I have cyber stalked him. Yea I admit it, I am obsessed.  He turns toward me, parting his legs and I watch as his tight black jeans bunch up in all of the right places. If the lighting wasn’t so dim in here I would likely have a full frontal view of what I can only imagine is a beautiful piece of machinery. Jax clears his throat, and I snap my glance away from his tool and back to my whiskey, which I down in one gulp, shaking the empty glass at the Waiter who just happens to be passing.

I can see his body jerk with a silent chuckle, shaking his head at me. “So you are a writer? Is this your newest novel.”  He reaches for the tablet setup and I snatch it away.  All I need is for him to realize the MC in my next book is HIM. He flinches slightly and leans back into his chair, before shifting so he is leaning on his elbows on the tabletop. “Sorry that was bold of me.”

“Don’t be. I just don’t let anyone read my books until they are finished.” I lie. Jen gets weekly chapters and updates. I awkwardly grin at him, still mesmerized by his presence. “So what brings you to Vegas?” Did I just ask him that? He is here for the same reason I am. Stupid, stupid question.

With that I get the full chuckle. And it is the most panty melting sound I have ever heard. The Waiter drops off my third neat bourbon and I take a healthy pull from the glass as Jax orders himself a beer.  He holds eye contact as I shift awkwardly in my chair. I am doing my best to keep from bursting at the seams. Inside my head I am having a full on fangirl panic attack, complete with crying and unintelligible sobs. On the outside, besides the fact that he has noticed me squeezing my thighs together, I am holding his easy smile with a cool grin of my own.  

“Jax Michael Jewlson.” He finally says, extending his hand toward me. I take it and give it a firm quick shake, hoping he doesn’t notice the cold sweat that is covering my palm. When I pull away, I can still fell his flesh against mine.

“I know, trust me I know.” I say as the heat rises to my face. “Storm Jasper, very nice to meet you.” His eyes bug out a little then a huge grin spreads across his face. “What?” I ask at his amused  expression.

“Nothing. I read your book, actually. It was hilarious.” He scours my face and body again, and I impulsively take another drink of my whiskey. “I guess I didn’t picture you looking like this in my head.”

My self-confidence, or lack thereof, smashes into the floor, I actually start coughing as I choke back the tears that want to spill. Instinctually, as every time I am rejected, I prepare to run. Grabbing my tote I start shoving my tablet and keyboard into the side pocket. I go on the defensive, because at this point in my life it is all that I have left.  “Sorry to disappoint you.”  I murmur, then down what is left of my drink before moving to stand and leave.

A hand finds my wrist as I turn away, and I pause. I want to run, my whole body is screaming for retreat, but I stay  facing away from him. My eyes are burning and pinpointed on the exit. If I don’t get out of here soon, the waterworks will be unleashed, and that is the last thing I need. Maybe JMJ is not the perfect person for the cover of my next novel.

“Have I said something to upset you. I am not disappointed. Quite the opposite really.” I think I stop breathing, but I can’t tell. At this point all I hear is the blood rushing in my ears, and the thumping of my pulse in my throat. “Sit down, I am hungry and I want to discuss your book with you.”

Dejectedly, I sit back down, I can’t even imagine how I look right now. IF dying of embarrassment is a real thing, I am about to do it. Jax beckons for the waiter, ordering himself some food and me another drink. Sneaking a glance at him through my lashes as I keep my face directed at my long forgotten steak, I see the look of concern set across his features.

“I really did not mean that the way you perceived it, Storm, I am so sorry.” He worries at the edge of his cloth napkin, and the act is so endearing I can’t help but smile.

“It’s ok. I just freak out when I feel rejected. My fight or flight kicks in, and flight usually wins. Sorry, but seeing as how I came to Vegas to sign you for my next book cover, rejection by you was like, the worst possible scenario.” Again with the verbal vomit. I have to reign that in.

A shocked look graces his beautiful features and I realize he caught what I was saying. “You came here to sign me? Really? Wow, I’m honored.” A face splitting grin breaks across his profile, leaving me breathless.