We were tipsy the first time we fooled around, but not enough to blame what happened on the alcohol. I told myself the next morning it was a one-time thing, but then the next weekend came. We were at a party, laughing and drinking. Then we were suddenly sneaking back to one of the bedrooms and ripping off each other’s clothes. The third time happened in the backseat of his Jeep, parked out in the parking lot of my apartment. I’d realized that night that, if this thing between Jax and I was going to keep occurring, it had to be a strict friends with benefits type of arrangement because I don’t have time for a relationship. Plus, my life’s too complicated. He’d agreed to my terms, and thus began Friday nights filled with sweaty, hot sex.

“Car rides to class aren’t supposed to be part of the arrangement,” I say, but scamper into the passenger seat when I hear a piercing crow from nearby.

“Why? I used to give you rides all the time before,” he reminds me as I close the door.

“I know. Sorry I’m being a pain in the ass again. I just had an… interesting morning.” I toss my bag into the backseat, buckle up, and discreetly check him out. Today he’s wearing a fitted black shirt that shows off his lean muscles I crave to touch.

“You know, we could make our weekend start now,” he says when he notices me admiring him. “I could pick you up after class and we could go back to my place.”

I turn my head toward the window to hide the first grin that’s graced my lips since Friday. “Can’t. I already have a hot date today.”

“You’re such a liar.” His tone is playful, but also carries an edge.

Deciding not to toy with him this morning, I meet his gaze again. “Alright, I’ll play nice today, but you owe me.”

His smile conveys all kinds of naughtiness. “Oh, I plan to pay you back in full.”

My skin tingles with excitement at the things he’ll do to me, things he’s done to me, the way I’ve let him touch me.

I’ve only been with one other guy before, and that was in high school, so hooking up with Jax has been a very new, interesting experience for me. One that I’m enjoying and want to keep enjoying. As long as we follow the rules, things should work out fine.

“You’re blushing, Clara,” he teases, brushing his finger across my cheekbone.

“I’m not blushing,” I lie then roll down the window, letting in the humid May air. “It’s just hot in here.”

“Whatever you say.” His lips quirk.

I roll my eyes, but then flinch when I hear the cry of a deranged rooster.

“Is that…” Jax peers over his shoulder out the back window. “Do I hear a rooster?”

I sigh. “Yeah, I think our neighbor has one.”

He turns his head back to me with his brow arched. “Here?” He skims the two-story, indoor complex with zero lawn space. “Really?”

“Yeah, remember my crazy neighbor I told you about? The one who keeps a log of the visitors that come through the apartment?”

He nods. “What? Is he keeping chickens now?”

“Roosters.” I cup my hand around my ear. “Chickens don’t make that God awful noise.” I lower my hand to my lap. “And not only does he keep roosters, but he also kicks them out because they watch him sleep, and then my mother takes pity on them and brings home.”

“Your mother let a rooster into your place?” he asks.

I instantly realize how crazy that must sound, since Jax doesn’t know about my mother’s condition.

“She’s one of those people who loves animals.” Which is kind of true. Before the accident we had two cats, a dog, and one very obnoxious bird that repeatedly chirped, ‘I’m so sexy.’

Jax balls a fist over his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he fights to restrain his laughter.

“You can laugh. Now that it’s all over, it’s pretty funny. Although, if you’d asked me ten minutes ago when the crazy bird was in my room, and I’d have told you it was possessed.” I tap my finger against my lip. “Hmmm… Maybe Mr. Garlifed was on to something. Maybe it was watching him in his sleep. Those beady eyes did look a bit shifty.”

“Or maybe he’s into voodoo,” he jokes along with me. One of the things that drew me to Jax is his ability to not only tolerate my odd sense of humor but he can make jokes with me too.

My lips part in mock shock. “Oh, my God. I think you might be onto something. This entire time, all the logging he’s been doing was actually to keep track of all the people he put curses on with his pet chickens.”

“Roosters.” He cranks the wheel and pulls the Jeep forward onto the road while giving me a wink. “Jesus Clara, get it right.”

“I’m so sorry.” I melodramatically press my hand to my chest, glad I didn’t fight the ride. Like always, whenever I’m around Jax, I feel way more like my old self. The Clara who freely bounced through life, made jokes whenever she could, and didn’t have to worry about the bills piling up on the kitchen counter. “But, to be fair, you did kind of make the incorrect reference first.”

“I blame that on my nephew.” He steers the car up the main street lined with quaint stores that sell items like beachwear, seashell wind chimes, and homemade baskets. “He’s always confusing animals.”

“How is Mason doing?” I prop my boots up on the dash and relax back in the seat.