There’s a guilt in my chest—that he’s spent so much time here with me,paidfor my treatment, and I haven’t so much as given him the time of day.
He lifts his dark gaze to mine, an errant piece of hair falling across his forehead. “What’s better than watching you?”
I roll my eyes and fluff the blanket on my lap. “Well, I’m out of here tomorrow. What will you do then?”
Is it bad that I don’t want to leave? It’s easier to let Jax stay here, to be near me while I sleep. But tomorrow night, once I’m home… Well, I can’t just let him into my bedroom.
Or… can I?
What do I really have to lose? And can’t someone be more than one thing? Like Caleb said, there are shades of gray.
God, I’m still listening to a high schooler.
Jax shifts uncomfortably and rubs the palm of his hand down his jeans. “You won’t be getting rid of me that easily.” He avoids my eyes.
The guilt stirs more. Have I really iced him out so hard that I killed his confidence?
“Idoappreciate this,” I tell him.
A slow, wry smirk appears at the corner of his lips, and I relax a bit, even though he keeps his gaze on the window. “I hope you hold onto that sentiment.”
My eyes fall to his hands again. The veins and tendons like a serpent’s call, and I don’t stop myself as I reach out. Warmth spreads up my fingertips at the heat of his skin, at the touch that lulled me to sleep the last few nights.
I keep my eyes cast down. I don’t want to see the satisfaction on his face.
I spread my fingers along the back of his hand, drifting up to his wrist, and it’s like touching a live wire. Heat spreads up my fingertips. My throat tightens. His pulse is strong beneath my touch, strong and steady and unbothered by the things that make mine stutter. He’s solid. Always there when I need him.
When I couldn’t bury Marshal myself.
When Layton showed up.
When my body gave up on the bluff.
I haven’t had to want for anything.
Because he hasn’t let meneedanything.
His hand moves suddenly—fast and quiet—catching mine like he was waiting for it. His fingers close in one clean motion, gentle and firm at the same time.
Startled by the intensity, I look up, relieved to find no arrogance in his eyes. No smug victory grin of a conquest won. There’s only longing, a fire so searing that I’m snared in it, as if he’s been starving in plain sight while I’ve been pretending not to notice.
The silence is so loud. His pulse beating with mine, tangled and thrumming like one as his chest heavily rises and falls. The air in the room feels warmer, thicker as he holds my eyes.
So many things pass between us.
I stayed,his eyes say.Don’t you see?
And something in me answers, helpless and quiet.
I see.
His gaze hardens with promise and possession. Something that should scare me but doesn’t.
I’m not going anywhere, he says without words.
I wish I could believe him, but my father didn’t even stay. I was just a child, and the one person in the world who was supposed to never leave, left. I don’t know if Jax sees it in my eyes, but he looks at me like he vows to rewrite that past.
And I want to believe it. I want to believe it so badly that a hot sting heats behind my eyes.
