She steps back and pats the couch. “Get on over here, then, Jojo.”
I nod toward Jax, and he follows me to the couch, putting his arm around me as we sit together behind the Redhots’ number one fan.
“Yeah, Winston, get around ’em!” Delilah cheers at the screen. Jax’s arm tenses, but he doesn’t look at me or say anything. “Go, go, go!”
“She’s very enthusiastic.” Jax laughs. He watches her reactions, the beautiful sound echoing throughout the room, though I’m the only one who can hear him. I memorize the way every piece of his silver-and-blue hair shakes with his vibrating body. It sends a heady buzz through me, joy spreading along our bond.
“You have no idea,”I say, grabbing some Twizzler popcorn and tossing it into my mouth.
His brother skates toward the goal, smacking the puck into the net. We cheer alongside the crowd on TV as Winston Myles does a celebratory fist pump and his fellow players glide over to join him. Then he skates toward the bench, bumping gloves with each of his teammates down the line.
Jax’s eyes glitter as he takes it all in.
We watch the rest of the game. Delilah’s yelling makes up for Jax’s silence. When it’s over, he follows me to my room, holding my hand. The thermostat drops as soon as he enters.
So many emotions muddle our bond, a flurry of feelings I can’t read. Whatever he’s thinking, I want him to remember he’s not alone. He’ll never be alone again. Neither of us will.
I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close to me.
“You okay?” I ask, glad to finally not have to speak through the link.
“He’s good. Older,” Jax says, voice quieter than usual, laced with a sad sort of pride. “I knew he played, but I hadn’t seen him in a while.”
“How old was he the last time you visited him?”
His brows draw together. “Twenty, I think, give or take a season.”
Based on the articles I’ve found online, Winston Myles is thirty-three years old. It’s been almost thirteen years since Jax has last seen his brother. I had done the math when I learned about them both. If Jax had lived beyond the accident, he’d be about thirty-nine now. I cross the room to my drawer and snatch out my journal, handing it to him. “Here.”
Stepping backward until he can sit on the mattress, Jax flips to the first page, then the next. Each one’s filled with articles I’ve compiled about his life and his brother’s. Page by page he continues to read, a few tears tracking down his cheeks that he wipes away. When he gets to my entries with long, bulleted lists of wins and paragraphs cataloging our moments, together and apart, I hold my hand out for him. “I’ll take that back now.”
“Worried about me reading something in particular?”
“There’s nothing in there you haven’t experienced first-hand.” It’s our story scratched onto the pages, words and doodles I return to when Fate and the seasons keep him away. A physical reminder of my belief. “It helped me cope while I missed you. I wanted to know about you. Your life. I also thought maybe you’d want to know too. I meant to show it toyou in Australia, but you were so angry when I brought up your brother…”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t angry.” He kisses me, deepening it a moment before he rests his forehead on mine.
The blues and silvers of his eyes glint with their mesmerizing, prismatic flecks. I’ll never tire of letting them hypnotize me.
“Sometimes it’s easier to keep that part of my existence separate. Even if it’s a part of me. I don’t want to forget my mortality, but sometimes it just hurts too damn much.”
“I understand.” I cup his cheek with my palm, his chill seeping into the pads of my fingertips. “It’s how I feel about the accident. It’s easier to pretend it didn’t happen, but eventually, it catches up to me and I’m hit with the pain that my mom is gone all over again. Or at least I did, until I saw her.” I give him a small smile, thinking back to seeing her as an autumn harbinger. While I didn’t want the night to end, I carry her with me like she reminded, and I hold on to her promise that she’ll see me again one day. “Thanks for that.”
“You already thanked me.” He nuzzles my nose with his own, then traces it up to press a kiss to my forehead.
“Well, there are many things to thank you for.” He saved me, revived my life, turning my story into something beautiful despite the tragedies that could never be unwritten.
Jax sucks in a breath, and though I can’t articulate the words, I let him feel the weight of them through our bond. I press up onto my tiptoes and drift my lips along his, then nip the bottom one before kissing him with the force of two lost seasons. I kiss him like we have all the time in the world and no time at all, savoring and devouring him all at once. “In fact, I’m very eager to show my gratitude in person.”
“Is that so?” He arches a brow. “What did you have in mind?”
Pressing my palm to his mate mark, I lower him to my comforter. I straddle his waist and his hands grip my thighs. “IfI remember correctly, you mentioned something about quaking around your knot earlier?” I reach for the hem of my shirt, lifting it over my head. “Think you’d be up for a demonstration?”
My mate mark glows between us, and his chest heaves, pupils blowing away the prisms of his irises. His body comes to life beneath mine, and I rock back and forth over the bulge, wanting to taste him and feel the fullness of him settled within me.
Jax cocks his head at me, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “I think I can manage that.”
JANUARY
