“Desi, don’t underestimate me. You’re here because you need something, and I’m guessing it involves information. Quid pro quo, right? Tell me about Vyvyan, and I’ll answer whatever questions you have about Alden. Though discussing another guy sounds about as appealing as a root canal, but for you, I’ll manage it.”
My brows dip below my bangs, a frown tugging at my lips. Jax might have valuable information I need to help Vyvyan, but he won’t give me what I want if he senses I am lying. “Vyvyan got hurt. She’s recovering.”
Jaxson scratches his jaw thoughtfully, the scrape of his stubble against his fingers filling the silence between us. “Hurt how?”
“Does it matter?”
“If you want to know more about Alden, it does. Because what I know about him is juicy.”
“How juicy?” I press.
“Like you’ll be journaling about it along with how handsome I look tonight,juicy,” he says, drawing out the last word with a teasing grin.
I laugh softly. Journaling was my refuge growing up, a place to pour out every fight, every bad day, expelling the anger and loneliness so I could process it all. But I haven’t felt the need to write since moving into the Nest. I had Misty to talk to, before . . . well, before everything fell apart. Now, I’m starting to think I need that journal more than ever.
“I don’t believe you,” I challenge.
“That makes two of us, sunshine.”
“Well, then, I guess we are at an impasse.” I reach for my purse. “I guess I better get going.”
“Sounds good to me. We can skip dinner and get right to the fun stuff.”
I pause. “Such as?”
“Let’s get the hell out of here and go back to my place,” Jaxson says, a mischievous glint in his vibrant eyes. “I have a single now, which means we don’t have to pretend to be quiet anymore.” He raises an eyebrow, and heat crawls up my neck. Dammit.
My clothes suddenly feel confining. Jaxson’s place had been our escape back then, a haven from my parents. We often found the room occupied by his roommate at the garrison, but that never stopped us from finding ways to touch. I’m sure his roommate was well aware of what was going on. After all, life as a Blade didn’t afford much in the way of privacy, which only made our encounters more exhilarating.
“What about dinner?”
“Don’t worry, I still plan on eating.” Jax’s grins devilishly.
Chills dance along my skin. I cross my legs, but the pang between them refuses to subside. Fuck, I’m a mess. First Vane,now Jax? I’m overwhelmed by flashbacks of my last few months as a witch, torn between trying to commit to Vane and the difficulty of letting Jax go.
“We are just friends,” I say.
“We’ve always been friends. That didn’t stop us before.”
“It did.” His friendship with my brother and the unspoken bro code stopped us from crossing more lines than we already had.
Jax studies me. “Are you seeing someone?”
“No,” I say halfheartedly as I search for the waiter.
“What about Vane?”
“What about Vane?” I ask, and my hackles rise.
Jax notices. “He’s your sire, so doesn’t that make you his?”
I growl a low warning that rumbles in my chest. “You are toeing a dangerous line, Jaxson Foster-Reid. I belong to no one.”
Jaxson smiles a satisfied grin that makes my blood boil. “Good.”
“Grow up, or I’m leaving.”
“No, I’m sorry. I’ll behave,” Jax says. I sit straighter. “Okay, so let me get this straight: Vyvyan’s recovering because she was hurt, but don’t all you vampires have super healing abilities? What hurt her so badly for it to take days to heal? Answer truthfully.”
