Page 101 of The Jaded Notes

I slide the bottle of vodka toward him. “What’s that?”

“Why the hell was Jaxon Crowne at your dinner, and what possessed you to tell Mom and Dad about what you overheard in his presence?” Bren prepares the rest of our drinks. “You know that’s what has Mom all up in arms.”

“Why? Because I somehow made her look bad?”

“Something like that.” He places the glass in front of me. “You had to have known Jaxon Crowne is the last person Mom would want to know.”

“Why?” I grab my cocktail and stroll back to the couch.

Bren follows. “Mom likes us to be picture-perfect in the presence of someone of his caliber.”

We both get comfortable while I ponder that statement.Since I’ve been dating Jax, he’s never made me feel less than him. I don’t even think he considers that when he’s with people. He’s mysterious but not judgmental.

Bren leans forward, forearms braced on his knees. “You don’t get it, Liv. Jaxon Crowne isn’t just some billionaire with too many offices. He’s the kind of man who walks into a room and everyone stops to get a glimpse.”

My fingers tighten around the glass. “That doesn’t mean he looks down on us.”

“You’ve talked to him personally more than once when he’s not mentoring you?”

The question coils in my stomach. I tip the vodka soda to my lips to stall. The burn going down is a great distraction.

I place my drink on the side table. “Enough to know he’s not judging us. He doesn’t care about picture-perfect.”

Bren shakes his head. “You really think a man like that doesn’t notice everything? Come on. He’s probably clocked every secret this family’s got, whether we like it or not.”

“If he has, he hasn’t used it against us.”

“That’s because he doesn’t have to. Power like his doesn’t push; it pulls. You don’t see the strings, but they’re there.”

My pulse thunders through my veins. He’s wrong. Jax doesn’t treat me like a pawn. He doesn’t treat me like anything but his equal. His obsession is my anchor, not my cage.

Bren studies me, eyes narrowing. “You sound like you admire him.”

My throat dries, and I force a shrug. “I admire a lot of people.”

“Yeah, but not like this.” He glances toward his untouched vodka like he’s debating drinking it. “The way you’re defending him…it’s interesting. Makes me wonder.”

I shift on the couch, heat crawling up my neck. “Don’t, Bren. Don’t turn this into something it’s not.”

His expression turns into a look I know too well, protectiveand intrusive. “Fine. Forget Crowne for a second. What I really wanna know is if you’re finally over Cash.”

The name explodes in the air, jagged and unavoidable. My breath catches before I can mask it, my chest aching with the truth I’ll never hand over.

The sound of his name slices through me like knives over my skin. My pulse spikes, heat and cold colliding in my chest.

“I’m over him.” The words leave too quickly, like they’ve been rehearsed a hundred times in a mirror I never want to face.

Bren doesn’t blink. “You sure about that?”

“Yes.” I pause for a beat. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

But Callum’s ghost doesn’t care what I want. It presses in anyway, the rasp of his voice through a microphone, the reckless way he loved me like there’d never be a tomorrow.

The addiction in his eyes wasn’t just chemicals. It was me. And part of me still aches for him like the drugs he couldn’t quit.

I breathe deeper, anchoring myself in the thought of Jaxon. Steady. Grounded. Calm.

His touch doesn’t burn; it only caresses. His silence doesn’t punish. It protects. He’s the choice that keeps me sane, even if Bren would never understand.