“You were hilarious. Arm.”
I like bossy Jax. It makes me feel things my body isn’t quite ready to feel again, and it makes accepting his help to hobble from the car to his apartment easier to take.
I’m done with the world by the time we get there, though. I’m spinning, and I can’t see how I’ll ever stop.
Jax sits me on his bed and stands between my legs. He holds my head to his chest and rubs my back. “You won’t feel like this forever. It passes, honest.”
“You remember, don’t you?”
“I do.” He pulls back so I can see his face. “But I was alone, so I fell over a lot.” He points to a tiny scar splicing his fair eyebrow—How have I never seen that before?—“That’s not going to happen to you. You’re not going to fall, Tanner, I promise.”
We’re talking about more than my terminal motion sickness, but I don’t have the equilibrium to dissect it. So I don’t try. I wrap myself in clothes that could be mine, or they could be Jax’s, and crawl into his bed. He moves around his apartment for a few minutes, then he slips in beside me and flips the TV on. “This is us for the next few days. No aggro, got it?”
Aggro? The fuck does that mean?I don’t dissect that either.
* * *
Recovery is harder than I’m prepared for, but I don’t need to be battle-ready, because Jax has done this shit before. He knows how I feel before I feel it, and true to his word, he catches me every time I fear I might fall.
I don’t fall anywhere except more in love with him. And I get to know him better too. Jerry’s given him paid vacation time, so he only leaves the apartment to buy groceries and give me and Gabriel the occasional privacy to bicker about everything and nothing. As the pain fades, it’s a good place to be. I learn more about Jax than I have in the entire time we’ve known each other.
Like he doesn’t give a shit about movies unless they’re wildlife documentaries. And he can cook three things: scrambled eggs, sandwiches made from bacon and ketchup, and some kind of a pasty with potatoes and beef that heals me from the inside out. With Eve filling the gaps with regular food drops, I have nothing to complain about.
I also learn that his taste in music extends beyond British indie rock I’ve never heard of. He plays Black Keys albums through his Bluetooth speaker, and strums Scar Tissue for me on his beat-up guitar with all the irony I need to make me laugh.
He kisses me too. A lot. And my body responds, but he won’t let me wrestle him out of his clothes, or slide his hands beneath mine. “Not yet,” he whispers.
It’s the only thing about him I’ll ever dislike.
Because Iwanthim. Perhaps now, more than ever.
He’s probably right that we shouldn’t, though. Not if I want to stay awake longer than the full six minutes I’ve likely got in me right now.
I’ve been kicking it at home for two weeks when Eve and Gabi arrive one afternoon to break us up.
“I’m taking Jax out,” Eve announces. “He’s getting pale with all this indoors time. Not everyone’s a vampire like you, Tanner.”
“Vampires don’t sleep eighteen hours a day,” I retort, but I nod when Jax sends me a questioning stare. She’s right: he needs to get out.
They leave and I resign myself to an extended sit-in with my brother, a prospect I could only have dreamed of a month ago. He’s brought me coffee. I all but snatch it from him and take a sip. “Damn. You spiked it?”
“Bourbon,” he confirms. “It’s medicinal.”
“Since when has liquor cured balance issues?”
“Since today. And I figured if it made you wobble, you could just climb right back into Jax’s bed.”
I’m sitting cross-legged on said bed, dressed as ever in sweats and a thick sweatshirt, so I don’t have a million miles to fall, but I scowl at Gabi all the same. It’s a luxury I’ve enjoyed since he told me he has no plans to leave Burlington any time soon. And I drink the bourbon-laced coffee. Fuck it. Maybe the caffeine will counter any horrible effects from the alcohol.
“You look good,” Gabi remarks when I’m done with his magic potion. “I meant to say it when I walked in. Do you feel better?”
“Better than what?” I say around a wide yawn. “I’m so fucking tired.”
“I know, but you don’t look so green anymore.”
“Are you still mad at me for puking on you?”
“Yes.”
