I walked over, standing at Aura’s side and taking in the sketch Juliet had made. Actually it was text. The thick black letters in an intricate font read Non Domini.

“What does that mean?” I looked up at Juliet.

“It’s Latin. It means ‘no masters.’ ”

She looked at me, holding my eyes as understanding passed between both of us.

No mothers. No fathers. No gatekeepers. Non domini.

I liked it.

Snatching the paper out of Aura’s hand, I sat down in her chair. “Me first.”

Juliet’s smile spread over her face. “You?” she said, her eyes lighting up. “You’re getting a tattoo?”

I arched an eyebrow. “If you’re going to make a big deal out of this … ,” I warned.

She shot out her hands. “No, no. I just don’t want you making quick decisions that you’ll cry over tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well,” I explained, “I like it. It speaks to me.”

Actually I loved it. It was me, and it was the first thing I didn’t mind having as a constant reminder every time I looked in the mirror. First thing that I felt I needed as a constant reminder.

“Okay.” She nodded, accepting my answer.

Coming up, Juliet kissed me on the lips and plopped her notebook in my lap. “I’m going to the bathroom. Be back in a minute.”

She walked away, locking her hands behind her back to keep her skirt from swinging up as she walked.

I shook with laughter no one heard and relaxed against the chair.

“I like her,” Aura said softly, pushing up my T-shirt sleeve and cleaning the skin on my left biceps.

“Glad you approve,” I mumbled.

And then I looked down. “Hey, I thought she wanted hers on the inside of her wrist. Why are you cleaning my arm?”

“She wants hers on the inside of her wrist. You’re getting yours on the biceps.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling like Jared’s mom was talking to me. “You’re a ballbuster. I’m surprised you’re still in business.”

I heard her snort. “You’ll love it, and you’ll be back for more.”

“Maybe,” I agreed, just to shut her up.

I splayed my hand across the cover of Juliet’s journal sitting in my lap and fanned the pages, flipping through to see if she had any other tattoo ideas.

Her pen, clipped to the top of the journal, held her place, and I saw a journal entry.

Close it. Close the book.

I was closing it.

I meant to close it.

But I didn’t.

Dear K.C.,

I read once that the best thing that can happen to a woman is to get her heart broken. Before that, she has no real sense of herself. No real sense of pain, because only in love does she know what it’s like to find the one thing that gives her breath and then to lose it.

After that, she knows she can survive. No matter what relationships come and go, she can count on herself to pull through, and although it hurts, the break is necessary.

I woke up this morning before Jax did, and I started crying. I realized he was my first love—the one that should break my heart—and when he jumped off that cliff, I realized how much it would hurt to lose him.

What if he doesn’t love me? What if he breaks my heart? He’s not the one I wanted to learn this lesson on.

I never cried over losing Liam. I cried over his treatment, but I picked myself back up almost immediately.

The thought of losing Jax makes my throat tight, and I can’t help it. I’m trying to be casual. To act like we’re just having fun, because I know that’s what he wants, but I don’t feel that.

I love him.

I love him so much, and I don’t want to, because I don’t think he’s ready to hear it. Why did my heart have to fall for him so quickly?

I closed my eyes and dropped the book to my lap.

CHAPTER 25

JULIET

Missed u last night.

I stared down at the text I’d sent Jax two hours ago when I woke up. The same text I still hadn’t gotten a response to yet.

“Should I pick you up after school?” Fallon asked next to me from the driver’s seat.

I clutched the phone in my lap. “I don’t know,” I mumbled, unease twisting my stomach.

Where the hell was he?

After the tattoo sessions last night—during most of which Jax was silent—he’d said he wanted to me to stay with Fallon and Madoc until he’d upped the security on his house and Tate’s. When I questioned that Tate was still staying in her house, he’d shot back with “She is Jared’s responsibility,” and he wasn’t taking any chances with me.

Madoc and Fallon’s house was off his father’s radar, and it was secure, he’d said.

It was bullshit, and I knew it last night.

I would’ve believed him if he’d looked at me once during his tattoo. If he hadn’t spent most of my time in the chair outside on his phone. If he had smiled at me or looked at me the way he always did.

But the warmth was gone, and something was wrong.

And it wasn’t his father.

After I’d packed a bag, he drove me to Madoc’s, kissed me, and left. I hadn’t heard from him since.

Fallon was taking me to school—something that must’ve been arranged without my knowledge, because I didn’t even have to ask.

I refreshed my phone, my head falling a little when I still had no reply.

“Yeah,” I sighed, stuffing my phone in my bag, “if you could pick me up at noon, that would be awesome. Thank you.”

I couldn’t walk all the way to their house, after all. And I wasn’t texting Jax to see if I was getting a ride from him.

I forced myself to swallow the huge lump in my throat as I wiped the sweat from my brow.

I didn’t need reassurance every two hours that he wanted me.

I didn’t need to be by his side every waking moment.

And I didn’t do anything wrong.

The last thing I was going to do was overreact. I’d texted. He knew I was thinking of him. And he had a good reason for his distance. At least I hoped.

I was going to enjoy my day.

After the long weekend, I was ready to get back to school. Spending the Fourth of July at the falls would probably be the highlight of my summer, but I’d actually missed the classroom and my students.

My students.

Strange, now that I’d finally reached them to some extent, it was fun being there. I was going to be sad when it was over in a week.

“Here you go, babe.” Fallon cruised up to the front of the school. “I’ll be here at noon.”

“Thanks,” I said, unfastening my seat belt. “I’m sorry you have to play chauffeur.”

“I have nothing else to do,” she said matter-of-factly, smiling at me.

I opened the door, but she grabbed my arm. “Tate and I are going for a run this afternoon in the Mines. I know you’re more of a gym person, but you should come. A good run will always show you how out of shape you didn’t know you were.” She smirked.

“Ohhhh.” I smelled her challenge, my eyes widening. “Since you put it that way …”

I smiled, climbing out of the car and watching her drive off.

I took a deep breath, the weight of the messenger bag below my hip heavier with a phone that wasn’t vibrating. I brought up my wrist, rubbing my thumb over the scar and wincing at the pain I forgot was there.

Looking down, I saw the new tattoo and let out a grateful smile, thankful for the reminder.

Non Domini. No masters.

Clutching the strap of the messenger bag, I entered the building.

“Keep going! Keep going!” Tate barked, swinging her arms back and forth like a machine.

I sucked in air—in and out, in and out—until I thought I was going to die.

Holy shit. This wasn’t fun! This wasn’t even on the same planet as fun!

But I needed to work off some steam.

I’d seen Jax on the field today, training the incoming lacrosse team, looking sweaty and angry and sexy, but when I’d finished my day, his car was already gone from the parking lot. It was stupid to want to cry over something so silly, but I was in knots.

He was ignoring me.

He could be busy or worried about his father, except he’d found time to come to practice but no time to call or shoot me a text?

Little shit.

I grunted, the anger fueling my muscles.

All three of us, including Fallon, were lined up side by side, doing step-ups as if the devil were chasing us, on the wooden staircase at the Mines of Spain.

My heart pounded like a mammoth beast stomping across my chest, and sweat drenched my stomach, face, and back.

And my ears! My fucking ears were sweating.

“I hate you both,” I gasped, jamming up the step with my left, my right, and then back down. Again and again and again and …

Fuck!

“Come on,” Fallon bellowed. “Faster! It’s good for the ass!”

“My ass likes BodyPump!” I roared, my legs shaking more each second. “In an air-conditioned room with music and fans and a smoothie bar nearby!”

“Don’t be a pussy!” Fallon’s temple dripped with sweat.

“Keep going.” Tate held the stopwatch. “Just one more minute!”

“Oh, God,” I groaned, gritting my teeth. “Nachos and truffles and ice cream, oh, my. Nachos and truffles and ice cream, oh, my.”