With a laugh, I wipe Lexie's lipgloss off. “Glad I can be of service.”
“And on that note…” Threading her arm through June’s, Lexie tugs them both away, calling out, “See ya!” as they disappear into the sea of people.
Seriously, though. The girl might be a pain in the ass, but I love her to death.
Peering up at Jagger, I take in the tiny bags under his eyes, my concern swelling with every passing second. It’s been this way all week. The way it ebbs and flows. One minute, I’m convinced everything is fine, and the next, I swear my unbreakable boyfriend is close to cracking. It’s been stressing me out. But what’s worse? It’s not knowing what to do about it.
“Come on, big boy,” I urge. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
Ford wasn’t kidding about Jagger’s superstitions. After brushing his teeth, putting on a pair of holey boxers that’ve definitely seenbetter days, and letting me borrow a T-shirt so I’m comfortable, too, he tucks me under the covers on his bed and opens his laptop.
I kind of love it. The simplicity of it all. The cozy clothes and promise of a nostalgic movie. For him, not me. I’ve never seenRocky, but I digress. It’s still nice. Peaceful, almost. If you told me Jagger Harden spent any of his Friday nights alone in his room while watching an old movie by himself, I would’ve never believed you. But now that I actually know him? His thoughts and feelings and idiosyncrasies? I don’t know, but it totally fits. And that? That’s adorable as hell, though he’d probably spank me if he knew I used the term adorable to describe anything Harden related.
I smile against Jagger’s chest and snuggle in as he pushes play on the laptop. When the opening fight starts on the screen, and Rocky’s head swivels to the side, I peek up at Jagger. “Rocky, huh?”
“Tradition.”
“Sounds like it.” I snuggle against his chest even more, soaking up the warmth from his bare skin and fighting the urge to take a bite out of him like a crazy person. I can’t help it. He’s just so…yummy. “So, is talking allowed during this tradition or…?”
“Not sure,” he rumbles. “I’ve never let anyone join.”
Is he serious? Giddiness grows inside of me. I try reeling it in so he can’t see right through me, but I doubt I’m successful. But for real, though. He’s never let anyone do this with him? Never? Swoon. Skating my fingers along his bare chest, I murmur, “This is a first, huh?”
“Yeah.” He lifts his head and kisses my crown. “Thought I had only a few of those left, but, you seem to be stealing them left and right.”
There it is again. The glimpse that he’s okay. That I’ve been overthinking all week. It’s definitely possible. Hell, maybe I’m the one who’s been acting like a crazy person. Ever since he called last week and told me about my house, about what he did for me, even if I don’t know the specifics, the L word has been sitting on the tip of my tongue. And it’s scary. Scarier than I’d like to admit. Because I’m not used to people caring about me. About doing things for me or sacrificing for me. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it must’ve been a lot. Whatever he agreed to with Ethan.
Is that why he’s been…distracted?
Lifting my head so I can look at Jagger, I rest my chin on his chest. “So how are you, really?”
“I’m fine.”
Liar.
“I’m serious,” I push. And maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe it’s none of my business. But I can’t help it. I’m back to being worried. “Are you ready for the fight? Nervous?”
His left eye pulses until his attention flicks back to the computer screen propped next to us. “It’ll be fine.”
I want to believe him. I really do. But there’s something about the way he says it. The way he won’t hold my gaze.
“You sure?” I ask. “You seem…quiet.”
“I always get in my head before a fight.”
“Do you?” I prod. I don’t mean for it to come out accusatory, and maybe the underlying tone is only present in my own ears, but I remember the first night we met, and he definitely didn’t seem quiet or like he was in his head that night. Nope. The man was as cocky and arrogant and self-assured as usual. Or maybe he was simply showing me what he wanted me to see. Maybe this is the real Jagger. The vulnerable one. The one he keeps hidden from the rest of the world in hopes of keeping his impenetrablefacade in place. And if that’s the case, then who am I to question it?
“Just know I’m here for you, okay?” I kiss his chest as he runs his fingers up and down my arm, tickling my skin with the softest of touches. It only makes me fall for him more. “I’d do anything for you,” I add, hoping he can feel my sincerity. “And I mean it, Jag.”
His chest expands on a deep breath. Like he’s breathing in my words. Like they mean something to him. Something…more.
“Come here, Little Thief.” Scooping me up, he rolls us over until I’m sandwiched between his strong body and the soft mattress beneath me. It’s so quick, it takes a second for my brain to register the shift, but now that I’m here, pinned under his weight, well…let’s just say I’m a little lost.
“Why, hello there.” I smile up at him. Bending down, he kisses the edge of my mouth as his hand finds my waist. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s making a move, but considering Ford’s comment downstairs, that isn’t possible. Is it? “What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Need you.” His fingers find the edge of his shirt I’m drowning in, and he pushes it up, exposing my stomach while dragging his mouth against the sensitive patch of skin beneath my ear. It feels good. Really good. So good, it’s hard to think straight, let alone form a sentence, but someone has to be logical here.
“Pretty sure this isn’t part of the superstitious routine, Jag.”
