Our moms were best friends. There wasn't much more to it than that. Every holiday, vacation and weekend, I was forced to spend time with Jax and his family. When I was four years old and he drenched my favorite blouse in ketchup, Jax and I became arch enemies...and then - somehow - we became best friends. But like I said, there wasn't much more to it than that. Mostly.
Okay, so of course I liked him a little. How could I not? Even though Jax was annoying at times, he was also funny, athletic, popular, and downright hot, and I was his nerdy little best friend. He was my protector, the one who rescued me countless times from countless threats. We shared more than just friendship...
Until the death of Jax's mother. The grief drove a wedge between us, and only so much more grief would follow. But pain has a way of tearing people apart, only to force them back together again. That's what happened to us.
And, unfortunately, the only way around pain is through it.
