Wednesday afternoon, I found myself sitting on the couch in the alcove of the bookstore waiting for Jaxon. Normally, he was here before me, but apparently, he was running late. I scrolled through social media on my phone to pass the time when a message appeared.
Jaxon: MEET ME OUTSIDE.
I twisted around to see if he was here and messing with me, but the same handful of people that had been here when I arrived were still in their respective spots.
Me: WHY?
Jaxon: LOL. TRUST ME.
I snorted. Trust him? Yeah, right.
Jaxon: NOW GET OUTSIDE!
Sighing, I gathered my backpack, flung it over my shoulder, and then walked outside. A flashy red sports car idled near the curb, and Jaxon stood near the open passenger's door. He was dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved polo shirt, and sunglasses. The breath rushed from my lungs when I realized he looked even more like Trent than he had before.
"C'mon. Get in." He grinned and nodded toward the car.
I stayed exactly where I was. "Why?"