“Be patient,” Knox orders.
I narrow my eyes at him. As if he hasn’t done enough. He fuckedourgirl without Jax and I knowing. He got to have her in a way that we haven’t. Now, after all this, maybe she won’t ever want us. There was no mention of it. No mention of it being a possibility before everything happened.
Knox got to fuck her. Jaxon’s the one who gets to sleep with her. I’m just the chef. And I know it’s wrong to think like that, but fuck. It’s messing with my mind.
Before I can say anything, we hear a door open. Jax turns immediately, getting up and focusing intensely on the hallway.
Hope looks confused, bothered, flustered. She keeps picking at her shirt, not looking at anyone. Her shoulders don’t curl in like they have been, but she doesn’t look any happier. The therapist hands Hope a piece of paper, then looks at Knox, Jax, and me in turn as we move closer.
“See you next time, Hope,” Dr. Grant notes.
I know she needs this, she needs a place to be heard and get the opportunity to heal. I stare at Hope’s chest, knowing what lies under the fabric of her clothes. Our initials.
We can’t erase all we’ve done. I blink away my stare and walk out, almost running into some blonde guy with a mean looking scar running through his eyebrow. “Sorry,” I mutter and get the car started.
I wait by the car while it warms up. It doesn’t take long for the others to follow. Knox keeps rubbing Hope’s lower back while Jax stands closer, eyeing the world around them like there’s a threat somewhere. A happy threesome without me.
Then Hope meets my eyes. She takes a few steps towards me when she gets to the car and exhales softly. “I… I’m really hungry, Dimitri.”
I blink at her. It’s the closest she’s gotten to wanting my attention. Besides that time I kissed her. But that feels like nothing now.
“I’ve looked up a few recipes based on the meal plans you recommended,” I say slowly.
“I’ll help,” she whispers, stuffing the slip of paper into her purse. When I let my eyes linger, she shakes her head. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that step, but I’m ready to eat.”
“An entire plate, or I won’t cook for you again. You’re only going to get fast food,” I threaten.
Her face twists in disgust for a second, but I see the threat of a smile on her lips. Knox gets in the passenger seat and Jaxon insists on Hope getting in the car.
“Anything you want to tell us?” I ask as I drive off.
“I don’t know if I like her,” Hope answers.
Jaxon turns her chin. “Why? What did she say?”
Hope trembles ever so slightly. “She asked why I didn’t seek help for what was happening.”
Jaxon’s face goes from calm to a dangerous shade of red. I run through a yellow light so we can’t turn back around. I don’t trust his temper.
“I told her that no one believed me, they only believed him, but then she just wrote something down and told me to continue. Then she tells me to get on medication. Medication like this normally requires time off work to adjust and she didn’t mention that. I’m okay with medication. I am… but…”
“But,” Knox echoes. “Jax, let her go.”
Jaxon doesn’t. He unbuckles her and pulls her into his arms. He mumbles something into her hair and she just sits there withhis arms tight around her. I take a breath and focus on the road ahead. That’s all that matters. Getting us home.
And that’s exactly what I do. I get us home, work in the kitchen with Hope. She corrects some ingredients, but she stays focused. She’s not as talkative as normal, but when I manhandle her out of the way, she doesn’t panic.
I don’t know what the guys are doing. I assume Jaxon’s working out to ebb his frustration. Knox is on his computer doing something, but I’m getting time with Hope and that’s all I care about.
“Are you sure that—”
“I’ve been cooking for you plenty, sweetheart. Trust me,” I snort.
“Let me help.” She swats at my hand.
I catch hers, twist her in my arms, and hold her there while I continue working. She squirms and grumbles about me cheating to get my way, but I like seeing her bite back. It means she’s doing better.
“Now, take a bite,” I say, then feed her. She hesitates and I arch an eyebrow. “I can tickle you, pinch you, or hold your nose.”
