Jax takes a step back as I open the door and work my way out of the confines of my temporary home.
“Please tell me you’re not living like this,” he says with an air of disapproval.
I look everywhere else but at Jaxon, a pit forming in my stomach. Humiliation wars with the desire to finally confide in someone. My pride wins out. “It’s temporary. Just until I can find an apartment.”
He leans a hand on the roof above my head, looming over me. My heart rate speeds up as I clutch the canister in my fist. Part of me wants to let my guard down because it’s Jaxon, but a much larger part of me is still fearful.
“How long?” he asks.
“I’m fine, Jax.”
His jaw ticks, and he speaks through gritted teeth, “How long have you been living in your fucking car, Callie?”
I arch backward on instinct. “A while."
Close to five months, but he’s not entitled to that information. We’re friends at best, nothing more.
“Jesus fuck. Do you know how dangerous that is? Somebody could’ve—”He steps back and rakes his hand through his hair. That little bit of distance provides me with enough courage to defend myself.
“I know! I don’t need a lecture from some nepo baby who’s never known hardship in his life. Iknowwhat people are capable of.”
His brow furrows as he studies my face. He’s too close, and his gaze is far too discerning.
“What are you doing here anyway?”
He gestures toward Lunar Ink, the tattoo parlor across the street. “Touch up. Does Mo know about this?”
My eyes cut away from his face, and I shake my head.
“So, you’re not only putting yourself in danger, but you’re also lying to your best friend about it.”
“Look, I didn’t ask for your judgment. I’m doing just fine, survivingon my own.”
“Surviving?” Something like sympathy—or worse, pity—flashes across his features. “Is that what this is? Is that why you’re freezing all alone in a parked car? Or is this you being stubborn again?”
I can’t think of a response that might placate him, so I settle for saying nothing at all.
“How did this happen?” His tender voice quiets my fear. He steps into my space and glides his hands up and down my arms, warming me with his touch.
I should pull away, but I don’t. Against my better judgment, I like the feel of his hands on me.
“Long story short, my apartment building burned down, and I couldn’t find anywhere affordable. Plus, most places won’t allow pets without an insane deposit.”
Jaxon peers over my shoulder into the dark car with a curious expression. “You have a dog in there with you?”
“Atticusis a cat, and he’s living with Mo until I find a place.” Anticipating the next line of questioning, I continue, “Mo thinks my new apartment doesn’t allow pets.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I have a spare bedroom and a soft spot for strays.”
“I can’t afford?—”
“You can’t stay here, Callie. I can’t, in good conscience, walk away knowing you’re putting yourself in danger. Not when Icould’ve helped.” He squeezes my hand, but it feels like he’s squeezing my heart instead. “You don’t have to pay rent, and you can stay as long as you need.”
I cross my arms over my chest, adopting a defiant stance. My sister always said I had a stubborn streak a country mile wide. I never blamed her for escaping when she had the chance, but a part of me has always resented her for it. Maybe if she’d stayed, I wouldn’t be in this position.
I shake myself out of the memory. “I didn’t ask for a knight in shining armor to rescue me.”
“Maybe not, but I can saddle up a white horse if it would make this more convincing.” He tugs open the driver’s side door. “Get in. You can follow me home."
