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"Oh. Um. Tea." I saw him decide whether or not to cover himself with a twitch of his hands; he opted not to; instead, he sauntered swingingly to the desk and killed the music—to the blessed relief of my eardrums. "You're in my room. And I’m naked."

"You. Yes. Naked. I. You. I was—um.” My eyes slid closed as mortification burned through me; I inhaled slowly, let it out, and started over. "Linus is waiting. Hurry up and get dressed. On the double, sailor!"

He just grinned at me. "Not in the Navy, you know."

I grabbed a pair of underwear from the pile of clothing on the bed and pitched them at his face, then turned and exited. “Just hurry your ass up, Jax." I really did try to bite my tongue. I just failed. "Your room is a fucking mess."

"I'M NOT IN THE MILITARY!" he called after me.

I went back downstairs and left the house, opting to wait on the front porch. Linus tapped his watch and shrugged at me from the car, a broad mime version of "what the fuck is he doing?"

No less than ten minutes later, Jax finally emerged, his hair still damp, too long, and messy. He wore maroon joggers and a blindingly white tee with old-looking high-top sneakers; an expensive pair of over-the-ear headphones hung around his neck, and he carried a suitcase in one hand and a bulging backpack over his shoulder.

Having seated myself on the porch swing to wait, I pushed up when he exited and stomped for the car. "Finally. Let's go. Linus was impatient when we got here."

"What, you're not gonna take my bags?" Jax asked from behind me.

"I am not a goddamned chauffeur," I snapped. "Linus asked me if I would drive, and I agreed because he's paying me a lot of fucking money. Carry your own fucking bags."

"I was joking," I heard him mutter. "Jesus."

"Jokes are meant to be funny."

I could feel myself being bitch-tastic, what with the mortification still nauseating me and all. I just couldn’t seem to do anything to stop it.

"Uh, Tea?"

"What?" I snapped, not looking at him as I rounded the front.

“Front or back seat?"

"How the fuck should I know? Ask Linus.”

I slammed the driver's door closed and waited; a moment later, Jax—wisely, to my thinking—slid into the rear seat next to Linus.

I'd never admit this to anyone ever, even under torture, but I was seriously verklempt about what just happened.

Seeing his…him. Him, naked. His everything.

Gah. See?

I don't understand my own reaction. I've seen men naked before, obviously. Plenty of them, plenty of times. Wicked hot ones, even.

Yet I've never, ever had a reaction like that to seeing a naked male before. Sure, Jax is hot as fucking sin. He's smart. He's driven to make his own way in life without allowing nepotism to pave the path. I like all of these things about him.

But…none of that explains why I get so fucking STUPID and tongue-tied around him. It's absolutely unlike me in the extreme, and it really, really, really pisses me the fuck off.

Chapter 3

Jax

I really have no clue what to make of Tea. One second I think she may kind of, sort of like me, just a tad. And then she hates me, apparently, for no reason.

I mean, she walked in on me, naked, in my own bedroom, and then had the gall to act like I'd done something to her.

I glanced at her, behind the wheel of the Range Rover, both hands on the wheel at 9 and 3, her posture textbook perfect. Her jet-black hair was tied back in a braid tight against her skull, and as I watched, she absentmindedly tugged the zipper of her flight suit up and down a few inches in a repetitive rhythm—zzzzhrip-zzzzrhip-zzzzzzzhrrrrrrip, zzzzhrip-zzzzhrip-zzzzzzzzhrip.

"Tea?" Linus said, his tone mild, yet somehow still sharp.