And then Callum walks out of the hallway. He’s wearing shorts now, hanging low on his hips, and nothing else. His chest is bare, abs cut and defined, and I force myself to look at his face. Just his face.
He has a nice smile. I wish he’d put some clothes on though.
I push past him without a word and head back to the guest bedroom. I need my things. I need to figure out what I’m doing. I need to be out of the same room as them.
I grab my bag from where I dropped it last night and pull out my laptop. My hands are still shaking as I open it and immediately turn off my device location.
Dad.
Oh God, my dad.
I didn’t turn off my device location on here. He can’t find me, right? No, because if he had my laptop’s location, he would’ve been dragging me out of this house.
I glance at the time. 5:47 AM. He might still be asleep. He might not have checked the Find My Location for my laptop yet.
Please don’t have checked yet.
I stick my head out the door and ask, “What’s the Wi-Fi password?”
Zephyr looks down the hall and says, “I just shared it with you.”
I grin. “Thanks.”
I shut the door and walk to my laptop. Text messages sync through, and Elle’s name is at the top.
Elle: Are you okay?
The message is from last night. Relief washes over me so strongly that I almost cry.
Me: I’m okay. My phone broke. I’m texting from my laptop. I’ll explain later.
I send it before I can overthink it. Before I can spiral into what I’m going to tell her.
A soft knock on the door makes me jump.
I close the laptop and set it aside.
“Breakfast?” Jax’s voice comes through the door.
I hesitate, but I walk to the door and open it.
Jax is standing there with his hands in his pockets, and the fury from earlier is completely gone. Now he just looks concerned. Like he’s trying not to spook me.
I don’t know what to say. My throat feels tight. I’m in his house. I slept in his guest room. A stranger crawled into bed with me. And now he wants to take me to breakfast like this is normal.
None of this is normal.
“Breakfast?” I ask, self-conscious of my breath.
“We won’t bite,” he says, and there’s the smallest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
“Okay,” I manage to say, but it comes out awkward and quiet.
He watches me for a second longer, then asks, “Do you want to go home?”
The question hits me hard, and my reaction is immediate.
“I never want to go home.”
