Essentially, he looks the exact way I’d imagined him in all of my fantasies over the past decade.
So, yeah, I’m completely fucked.
How am I supposed to resist him when I’ve already been hanging on by a thread?
Knowing I need some space, I shift his guitar beside me and stand. “I’m going to finish getting ready quickly,” I tell him.
Nearly a half hour later, once Elsie put the finishing touches on my hair and makeup, I walk into my bedroom where Jacksonwas waiting for me. He’s got his guitar perched on his thigh as if he’s been playing, but I know he hasn’t since I haven’t heard anything from the other room.
He looks up, and when he takes in my chosen outfit, he shakes his head as a slow smile spreads across his face. “Should’ve known asking you to wear something for me would only make you do the opposite.”
Slowly, I lower my gaze from his and try to take my outfit in from his eyes. I’m wearing a lightwashed denim corset, a short, black leather skort, a belt with an oversized turquoise buckle, and my favorite black and turquoise cowboy boots. My ears, neck, and arms are covered in turquoise and silver jewelry, and I’m still debating whether or not I’ll wear my signature black cowgirl hat or not.
The dress Jax requested wasn’t right for this festival, but I did tell my stylist I was taking that one home with me to save for another performance in the future.
“I tend to stray from being the people-pleasing girl I once was the farther I get from Minnesota,” I inform him.
“Does that mean you’ll want to please me when we get back home?” His question is meant to be teasing, but it causes my heart to stutter.
Home.
He said whenweget back home.
And, god, what I wouldn’t give to go back in time and make that a possibility.
But I can’t.
All we have is here and now.
Giving my head a slight shake, I lick my lips and gesture to his guitar. “Shall we?”
Jax gives me a curt nod before looking down at his guitar—well, more like glaring at it.
“You know you can’t just will it to play itself, you actually have to strum your fingers,” I tease, and when he shuts his eyes, hanging his head, I almost feel bad. That is, until I see the shake of his shoulders from his muffled laughter.
He throws his head back so the beautiful sound echoes off the walls, and suddenly I wish I could freeze time. I’d give anything to stay here in this bubble with him like this—his smile the only thing I see and his laughter playing like a record on repeat.
When he finally composes himself, he gives me a slow perusal; the way he longingly takes me in feels like a physical caress. “God, I’ve missed you. So damn much,” he rasps once his gaze finally meets mine.
My heart lurches in my chest at his admission. As if I have no control of my body, I’m suddenly across the room and sitting on the edge of the mattress next to him. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin.
“Do you need me to sit behind you and show you where to place your fingers on the frets like you did for me my first time?” I ask. What was meant to sound sassy completely misses its mark, my sultry tone eliciting goosebumps on his arms.
Jax swallows roughly, and I watch the way his throat works with rapt attention. I used to love sucking, licking, and biting the skin there. As if he knows exactly where my mind has gone, he begins strumming the opening chords of the song. His playing isn’t practiced like it once was, but it still works to throw me back in time just the same.
The moment he sings the opening line of the song, I’m suddenly no longer sitting on this bed in a hotel room in Texas with him. Instead, we’re sitting in the bed of his pickup truck beneath a blanket of July stars twinkling against the midnight sky.
As if I can’t help but do so, I join him, singing in perfect harmony. Our voices shouldn’t blend together so beautifullyafter all this time, but they do. Almost like we’ve been performing together for years instead of the reality of our situation.
Even as I get lost in our song, I don’t take my eyes off his. I’m branding this moment to memory, knowing with absolute certainty this will be what I think of to get me through the hardest of times about to come my way.
My body inches closer to his with each verse, and by the closing lines of the song, I’m nearly on his lap—my chest pressed against his upper arm and one of my crossed legs resting atop his thigh closest to me.
When the final chord hangs between us, our mouths are only a breath away. I can nearly taste his sweet, mintyness. And when he licks his lips with his eyes locked on my mouth, I decide to throw caution to the wind.
“Taevin! We need to go. Now,” Kyle booms from the other side of the door. Squeezing my eyes shut, I curse under my breath. The interruption working like a bucket of cool water being dropped over the two of us.
I just about kissed my husband. My first and only love. Undoubtedly the one who got away. But it’s only because of my decisions that we’re in this situation. If I had chosen differently—picked him over anything else—there’s no doubt in my mind we could’ve beeneverything.
