Page 9 of AJ’s Fire

“Shut the fuck up, asshole.” He reached over and punched my arm again. “I don’t … Yeah, okay. No lies. We do have a private jet, but you and I are not taking it anywhere! The only time you leave Brooklyn is to go to your parents’ place by that college or their place at the beach. A jet would be overkill for either of those trips.” A light returned to Jackson’s eyes. “We should really just take the helicopter.”

“We should take the helicopter, should we? Are you finally going to come up to Hampstead and meet my family? Actually, Jax, you should. My stepmom loves throwing parties. She's having an end-of-summer thing. What do you say? Get out of the city?”

Jackson and I managed to make it to a few parties up in Hampstead after that conversation, and I’d spent time at his grandparents’ cottage and the family’s beach compound on Long Island, but I’d never once met his parents, who Jackson claimed were always too busy for visits to Brooklyn. When he went to visit them, he dismissed it as an obligation, always tied to a charity or political event. He managed to stay out of photos, but I knew he had been to parties with movie stars and politicians, famous authors and personalities, and even the sitting president of the United States.

Over the years, we would talk about how we both felt we’d let our parents down with our career choice. To my parents’ credit, after an initial shock at my decision, they had never made me feel like I was a disappointment, but Jackson felt like he had let his parents down.

Sitting on a couch in the fire hall, watching my friend put his boot back on, I thought back to that conversation that had ended with us joking about taking a private helicopter to my family’s home while Jackson and I talked about Thanksgiving travel plans for that year.

I sat up on the couch. Jackson was sitting on the far end, leaning on the armrest, and I found myself pressed against the other side, as far from him as possible. Jackson had been pulling away from me since the summer, both mentally and physically. I rubbed my upper arm, trying to remember the last time Jackson had jokingly tapped me there. I didn’t like the distance between us, so from the far end of the couch, I insisted, “We never go out anymore! Tomorrow, you, me, Lucy's Taphouse. We need to get you laid!”

Jackson smiled and shook his head no even as he was saying yes. “You mean you want to get laid.” He paused and did that thing where he genuinely thought before he answered. “Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

If I was going to figure out how to fix us, I needed to figure out what had gone wrong. A night out at Lucy's Taphouse would hopefully do the trick.

I was on my way to the bar when his text came in.

Probie: Bringing Emily along. About time you two meet.

There was a tug to my insides at the news. As I walked, I decided it was a good sign. I would meet Emily, Jackson would announce they were dating, then we could go back to being friends. Not that we had stopped being friends; we’d just stopped hanging out. I didn’t care about the partying; without Jackson there, I’d basically given that up myself. I just missed my friend.

Coffee Trainer: Looking forward to it.

I used to enter Lucy's Taphouse like I owned the place, the conquering hero, letting it be known I was open to a good time. But more and more that felt like a performance, something I was supposed to do, not what I wanted to do. What I did want, I did not know.

Jackson was sitting at a high-top table near the bar, leaning close to Emily. She had wavy brown hair brushing her shoulders and from the seated position, seemed to almost match Jackson in height. She wasn’t too skinny, and her face lit up at whatever Jackson was saying when I swaggered into the room. She was exactly my type.

Jackson didn’t turn, making me realize I’d expected him to. Subconsciously, I was waiting for him to notice me and smile. That night, Jackson didn’t immediately turn and catch my eye, but it did appear that he stiffened as I entered. I assumed this had everything to do with the woman by his side, but it didn't stop that swooping feeling from making me uncomfortable and confused as I headed their way.

I placed my hands on Jackson’s shoulders from behind. He stiffened at my touch, which was not something I was used to. Behind him, my face fell. He hadn’t turned to see it, but Emily had.

Trying to ignore the sinking feeling that Jackson’s stiff shoulders produced in me, I smiled. “This must be the elusive Emily.”

She swung in her chair, brushing my thigh and not attempting to move. I politely took a step back, taking my hands off my best friend as part of the move. My eyes were on him, my concern evident as he looked up at me and gave me a small smile.

“The equally elusive AJ. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” She reached out her hand, and it took me a beat to reciprocate because my eyes weren’t on her and because she had said it like she was flirting. Oh, I was not going to like this woman if she was flirting with me right in front of Jackson.

Quietly, Jackson waved a hand between us. “Emily, AJ. AJ, Emily.”

“The new best friend meets the old best friend. Have a seat, AJ, let’s compare notes!” I could sense her trying to read my face as I tried desperately to read Jackson’s. I hated the thought that he felt the need to tense up just because I was there. Did he think I couldn’t handle him giving up our partying ways for the woman before me? The only thing I hated about the whole situation was that we weren’t spending time together. That and my swooping stomach, which would have had me worried about my health if it happened any other time than when I was with Jackson or thinking about Jackson. It swooped again right then and there as I was doing both.

“Emily, it’s a pleasure. My niece and I watched your show just last week.”

Jackson’s face lit up. “His niece is Vera. I told you about her. I help babysit sometimes.”

Emily didn’t miss a beat. “Of course. Jackson’s told me so much about you and your family. I’m so sorry about your sister-in-law.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I responded neutrally, and we started talking as I tried to scope out the person I thought had been keeping Jackson from me all summer.

Emily appeared sweet. She was smart and funny and seemed to be as protective of Jackson as I was, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she also seemed to be flirting with me. When she excused herself to use the facilities, I took the opportunity to drill my best friend.

“Dude! Is she your girlfriend or what? Because I am getting all kinds of mixed signals here.”

“My girlfriend?” Jackson scoffed, but his phone chimed an odd sound as soon as he said it, and he became distracted, reading whatever the notification was. Had we spent so little time together recently that I didn’t remember the sounds his phone made?

“What were you saying, Aje? My girlfriend?”

The phone chimed again. He lowered the volume, shut the screen, and placed it on the table.