“You caught feelings,” Jax states matter-of-fact.
“Yeah.” I exhale slowly. “And now I’m having a hard time figuring out if what I’m feeling is real or if it’s just because of our current situation.”
“What situation?” Jax tilts his head. “You’re living with ahot blonde who writes smut for a living. Seems pretty straightforward to me.”
If only he knew how far from straightforward my current situation actually is.
“I just need some space to figure my shit out,” I say. “See if what I’m feeling holds up when I’m not around her all the time.”
“Fair enough.” Jax doesn’t push, which is one of the many things I’ve always appreciated about him. “So what’s the plan? Just hide out here until you get your head straight?”
“Pretty much.” I finish my beer. “That a problem?”
“Nah, man. Stay as long as you need.”
“Appreciate it.”
“A little too early in the morning for this heavy shit.” Jax stands up and stretches. “How about you go crash and when you get up, we can order pizza, drink beer and play video games the rest of the day?”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
“Guest room is all yours.” Jax points down the hall. “Sheets are actually clean.”
I grab my bag and head down the hall, my body practically screaming for sleep. The room is small but neat, with a queen-size bed, small nightstand and blue light-blocking curtains framing the window.
Shutting the door behind me, I drop my bag on the floor and close the curtains. Then I collapse onto the bed, not even bothering to take off my boots. The moment my head hits the pillow, I’m out cold.
When I wake up,my mouth feels like sandpaper and my head is pounding.
I glance at the clock on the nightstand. I’ve been asleep for almost eight hours.
A quick knock sounds at the door before it opens.
“About time you rejoined the land of the living,” Jax says from the doorway. “I ordered pizza. Large meat lovers with extra cheese and a couple sides of wings.” He tosses me a cold beer. “Figured you could use this.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” I crack it open and take a long swallow, the cold liquid soothing my parched throat.
The doorbell rings and when Jax leaves to go answer it, I haul myself up and into the bathroom to grab a quick shower. Throwing on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, I head into the living room.
“Food’s here,” Jax says. “And I’ve got Call of Duty loaded up.”
“Good. ‘Cuz I really need to shoot something.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
The pizza smells like heaven, and my stomach growls in response. Grabbing a slice, I drop onto the couch and quickly scarf it down.
After downing the rest of my beer, Jax hands me a controller. “Prepare to get your ass handed to you,” he grins.
“In your dreams,” I grin back, already feeling better.
We spend the next several hours playing video games, talking shit, and demolishing the pizza and wings. It’s easy to fall back into our usual rhythm, and for a while, I forget about everything else.
By the time we finish our sixth—or is it seventh?—beer, I’m pleasantly buzzed. The game ends with my character getting blown to bits, and I toss the controller aside.
“Fuck that shit,” I mutter with a grin.
“Want another beer?” Jax asks, heading to the kitchen.
