My Rockstar's Heartstrings: Three Years of Loving You From Afar novel Chapter 7

Kaylee's POV

Jax slammed the door on his way out.

Alone in the hospital room, I sat there, momentarily stunned.

...Was he trying to make me jealous?

I used to be the jealous type, truth be told.

Jax was gorgeous—tall with broad shoulders. Even in a $9.99 t-shirt from some discount store, he looked like he'd stepped straight out of a GQ spread.

Even when we'd go to the farmer's market for groceries, the vendors would gush over "such a handsome young man" while tossing a couple extra tomatoes into our bag.

Whenever we walked through the park together, he'd get swarmed by matchmaking moms and dads with their single children in tow.

After we'd escape their clutches, I'd always be sulking.

Eighteen-year-old Jax would nudge me: "What's eating you?"

I'd snark back: "Must be nice being the hot commodity around here."

Jax would touch his face, smugly replying: "Gotta look the part if I'm gonna be your husband someday."

I'd roll my eyes: "Whoa there—did I miss the proposal? Since when are we getting married?"

He'd rub the back of his neck: "Just gotta save up first. Once I have enough cash, I'm putting a ring on it!"

To save money, Jax started singing at an upscale bar.

Only his second night there, I got a call to come get him.

Jax was in trouble.

A woman had tried stuffing cash down his shirt, grabbing for his abs while asking how much for a night with him.

Jax had pulled out the money, thrown it at her, and walked away.

The bar was high-end, frequented by Manhattan's elite. The woman didn't make a scene that night, but the next day, Jax was cornered by several large men.

When I arrived, Jax was in a hospital bed, right arm broken, two fractured ribs, eyes closed as if unconscious.

I rushed to him. He opened his eyes and painfully reached up to wipe the tears from my face.

"Don't cry," he winced with each word.

"Why didn't you tell me? You should have called the second that woman started harassing you!"

"Thought you'd... flip out," Jax watched my face cautiously.

I pressed my lips together, pretending to be mad.

Jax took my hand and placed it on his abs.

"Don't be mad," he whispered. "She didn't get to touch them. That's your territory only."

Tears suddenly streamed down my face—I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

I stroked his hair, told him to rest, and walked out of the room.

I pushed him away: "Pull a stunt like this again and get yourself this hurt? We're done."

Back then, Jax was terrified of making me angry.

Yet sometimes he'd deliberately push my buttons.

Anger meant I cared.

Could it be that writing these eighteen love songs for Selena was just to make me jealous...?

This thought barely surfaced before I dismissed it.

Ridiculous. Jax and Selena had nearly 100 million followers between them. The production costs for Jax's album would be at least a million dollars.

All to make me jealous?

Who the hell did I think I was?

Besides, I'd broken Jax's heart three years ago.

I opened the album. The first track was called "Pure Soul."

...In Jax's mind, I was just a woman who'd sell anything for money. "Pure" was the last word he'd associate with me.

I closed Spotify and opened Twitter, hoping to find videos of Jax and Selena looking perfect together to bring me back to reality.

Suddenly, an explosive trending topic caught my eye:

【Jax Puth Caught Cheating】