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"The family feud thing was one time.”
"Both brothers went to jail, Tania."
“Whatever. Byyyyeeeee!” She stood up and walked out, shooting me double birds over her shoulder, leaving me shaking with laughter.
Yes, she'd actually started a still-ongoing feud between two brothers. It's a hell of a story.
"Your sister is cool as fuck," Jax mumbled sleepily.
"Oh god, we woke you. I’m sorry."
"Mmm,” he hummed. “S’okay. I like hearing you and her bicker." He nuzzled further onto my chest, snuffling like a happy little pig. "Mmmmmmm—Boobie pillow."
I laughed and patted his head. "Yes, Jax, boobie pillow. Now rest."
A few seconds later—just long enough for me to let my guard down—he mumbled again and rocked my universe on its axis:
"I'm in love with you too."
Chapter 15
Jax
It was weird being home. We were only stranded in the woods for something like forty-eight hours. Not long, in the grand scheme of things, especially when it comes to crash-landing in the remote Alaskan wilderness. But those hours out there with Tea had done something to me. Changed me. Altered my future. My sense of self. It was hard to put into words, even for myself, because I didn't quite understand it.
The other weird thing was Linus's absence. No one had heard from him, and no one could get ahold of him. Tea and I discussed it and decided that wherever he was, and whatever he was doing, he'd get ahold of us when he was ready.
Billionaires, amiright? What are you gonna do?
When I was lying down and on painkillers, it was tempting to think I was further along in the healing process than I was. Then I'd get bored and restless and decide to get up and do something, and reality would reassert itself rather insistently and volubly, and I'd realize no, I'm not fine. Apparently it takes more than twenty-four hours in the hospital and some stitches to recover from being mauled by a bear.
I had gotten incredibly lucky, I'm told. Had I not been rolling away from the strike when it hit me and thus been spared the worst of the blow, I'd have been eviscerated. As in, my entrails would have become my ex-trails, as Alan Tudyk once put it in the fantastically absurd movie A Knight’s Tale.
If I'm being honest, I feel pretty fucked up. Every time I close my eyes, I see one of two things: either I saw the forest rising up to meet us and the branches whipping past us as warning bells warbled and klaxons clanged; or I saw Tea sprawled out on her back on the ground, flight suit tangled up in her bare legs, helpless terror stark on her face as an eight-foot-tall shaggy brown monster reared up over her, roaring so loud the branches shook.
I actually remember very little of the fight itself. A few flashes of white teeth and swiping claws, deafening roars, the shocking, burning impact of those claws—which, as it turns out, barely grazed me.
The other part that's tricky is the mere fact of being at home with my whole family plus Tea. Our house is modest. Not a shotgun shack but not a mansion either. We don't have a guest room—our den in the basement features a hide-a-bed couch, so if one of Dad's old Navy buddies pops into town for a visit, they have somewhere to crash.
Silly me, I'd expected Tea to stay in my room with me, but she refused. It would be weird, she claimed. Even though both I and my parents assured her it wasn't a problem, she insisted on sleeping on the hide-a-bed. And listen, it's not a cheapo one, either, okay? It's nice. I've crashed on it myself before—Uncle Bast and Aunt Dru were having work done on their house, and they stayed in my room while Emerson and Delia stayed with Bax and Eva, and Dane and Duncan stayed with Brock and Claire. Point is, it's a decent bed for a night or two. But it's still very obviously a makeshift bed designed to fold up into a couch.
I didn't want her on that; I wanted her with me. In my bed, next to me. Did I hope for a little messing around? Obviously. Was I expecting hang-from-the-chandeliers acrobatic sex? Obviously not. I can barely move. I just…want her near me.
So here I am at three in the fucking morning, eyes burning because I'm tired, yet I can't sleep because I can feel Tea down there. Also, Dad was right about the meds: I've been home for three days, and I haven't shit. TMI, I know, sorry. So I've stopped taking the pills, which means I'm in a lot more pain; I also don't want to be the guy who gets hooked on smoking pot all day every day just to manage the pain, so I’m trying to avoid that as much as possible, as well. I know it's gonna go away. It just sucks for now.
I was in the act of tossing my blankets aside and beginning the long, laborious process of working myself upright when I heard my door latch click, and the hinges creak.
A small figure filled the doorway, bathed silver by the stream of moonlight flooding in from my window. "Jax?" She was in an oversized crewneck sweatshirt that hung to mid-thigh, her legs bare. "I can't sleep." Her voice was small and barely audible.
Instead of sitting up, I scooted over to the left side of the bed and held out my arm. "Me either."
She padded hesitantly over to the bed, fingers fiddling with the hem of the sweatshirt. Her hair was loose and wavy from the braid, hanging messily around her face and sticking to her lips, and I could see a sheen of sweat on her forehead; her chest was rising and falling a little too fast, too.
"Hey," I whispered. "C'mere."
Still, she hesitated, her weight shifting from side to side. "I have to pee."
She darted into the bathroom and closed the door. Moments later, I heard the toilet flush and the water running, and then she was at my side again, hesitating again.