Game Changer

by Kelly Jamieson

  I put my SUV in gear and leave the parking lot.

  I wait for my mom to say, “I knew it!” or “I told you so!”

  Luckily, she doesn’t. Because I don’t really want to have my stupidity rubbed in my face. My mom’s pretty great.

  “Remember what I said at the lake?” she asks, in a calm voice.

  “That I don’t talk to you enough?”

  “Well, that too. But I told you men aren’t programmed to cheat. There are many reasons that they do. But it’s always a choice.”

  “Right.” I rub my face. “I get that. But…I’m afraid I’ll screw up. I want to believe in love. I want to believe in happily ever after. After this summer…I guess my eyes were opened. I thought Chelsea married Grandpa for his money. Turns out they really love each other. I thought Dad cheated on you. Turns out he didn’t. I want to believe I can be faithful to one woman for the rest of my life.”

  “That’s not good enough for Molly.”

  “What?” My jaw slackens, and my gut goes hollow. I stare across the room.

  “You can’t go to her hoping you can be faithful. You have to know it. You have to know that every day, you’ll make that choice not to cheat. Every day, Jax. You have to believe in yourself.”

  I close my eyes.

  “Is she worth it?” Mom asks quietly.

  I nod slowly, even though Mom can’t see me. My eyes burn.

  I think about Molly. About how much I’ve missed her. How much I need her. How empty my life has felt since she left. I think about how good she makes me feel and how I want to be there for her. Always. “Yeah,” I rasp out. “She’s worth it. I can do it.”

  “Good.” Mom pauses. “Jax. Your dad and I didn’t want to talk to you about what happened in our marriage, because we didn’t want to point fingers at each other. But part of the problem was not talking to each other about how we were feeling.”

  I remember sitting on the deck in Catalina with Dad. I wasn’t great at talking about my feelings, he’d said.

  No shit. I guess that’s where I get it from.

  “He said it wasn’t your fault.”

  Mom laughs softly. “That’s admirable of him to say that. Maybe he’s learned something. But the truth is, I wasn’t good either at expressing what I needed from him. I thought he should know. I let the resentment build. Don’t be like that.”

  I frown. “Resentment?”

  “Not that specifically, just whatever you’re feeling. Tell Molly. Tell someone, but especially Molly. I wish you’d told your dad and me how you were feeling.”

  Another memory of that conversation with dad. Because I’d blamed him for cheating on Mom, never asked him about it, never told either of them how much it wrecked me that they split up. What a lot of wasted years.

  Wasted years between Dad and me. Wasted years between him and his own father. Wasted years between Dad and Mom, too, I guess.

  I don’t want that for me and Molly. I don’t want to regret not being brave enough to tell her how I feel. About everything. Ever.

  Yeah, she’s worth it. She’s all that I want in the world.

  Molly

  I can’t dash out the door the minute Travis and Erin get home, much as I want to. I dutifully wait to admire the gifts they brought the boys, listen to all the things they did in New York, then make my escape.

  As soon as I’m home, I text Jax to let him know.

  My apartment is a disaster, since I was staying at Travis and Erin’s place the last few days. I left dishes in the sink, clothes piled on the chair in my bedroom, and a basket of laundry in the hall. I have more laundry to add to it now, and I need to get ready for work tomorrow.

  I start in the kitchen, frantically loading the dishwasher and scrubbing a pot that’s been soaking for days. Gross. I scrub out the sink and wipe down the counters, then pick up the laundry basket and carry it into the bedroom. I manically sort through the clothes on the chair, tossing some into the laundry basket, others onto the bed to be hung up. Do I have something to wear to work tomorrow? I find an outfit and swiftly hang the rest in my closet.

  And never mind my apartment; I look like a wreck. I’m still in my Aces T-shirt and jeans. I felt hot when I was cleaning the kitchen, so I scooped my hair up into a ponytail without even looking in a mirror. My hands smell like bleach cleaner. Ugh. I run to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

  I’m still rubbing my favorite pink grapefruit lotion into my hands when the apartment buzzer sounds. I let Jax in and pace until he knocks at the door. My apartment is on the second floor so that doesn’t take long.

  My heart hammers in my throat when I open the door. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  His smile is so, so gorgeous. I’ve missed it so much.

  “Come in.” My hands are shaking as I close the door.

  He walks into my living room. My apartment is old, in a three-story brownstone, but I like it.

  “Nice,” he says, taking in the old hardwood floors, the bay window overlooking the street, the wide, white-painted baseboard and door trim.

  “Thanks.” I’m dying. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Uh. No. I’m good.”

  I move past him and take a seat on the couch that sits in front of the bay windows. “Have a seat.”

  He sits next to me, but with a bit of distance between us. He’s holding a small cardboard box in his hand that I only now notice.

  “What’s that?”

  He looks down. “It’s a trivia game.”

  I tilt my head, a smile tugging my lips. “Seriously? You want to play trivia?”

  “Yeah.” He meets my eyes and his are glinting. He sets the box on my coffee table and opens it.

  I can’t believe this. I’m about to have a stroke, and he wants to play trivia.

  He picks up a card. “Okay. What arouses men more than any other scent in the world? Your choices are: a. lavender; b. lilies; c. woodsmoke; d. beer.”

  I choke on a laugh. “The scent of beer is arousing?”

  He grins. “Is that your answer?”

  “No, I’ll say lavender.”

  “Correct.”

  He sets the card down, picks up another and hands it to me. “Your turn.”

  “Wait. How does this game work?”

  “Just follow along.”

  Smiling, I say, “Okay.” I read the card. “What arouses Jax more than any other scent in the world?” I blink and look up at him. “You?”

  “Yes.”

  I keep reading his choices. “A. Molly’s grapefruit perfume.” I pause. What is this? “B. Molly’s grapefruit lotion; c. Molly’s grapefruit body wash; d. Molly.” My insides soften and warm as I meet his eyes.

  “All of the above,” he says softly.

  I swipe a hand under my nose. I think I see where this is going and it’s amazing.

  He picks up a card. “What chemical is responsible for making my heart race when I see you? A. dopamine; b. norepinephrine; c. adrenalin.”

  My throat is squeezing up. “Adrenalin.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Your heart races when you see me?”

  “Yes.” He holds my gaze steadily.

  “Me too,” I whisper.

  After a protracted silence, he says in a gruff voice, “Your turn.”

  “Oh. Right.” I take the card he hands me. “Which bonding chemical is released in my brain when you make me orgasm?” I lower the card. “Where did you get this game?”

  “Never mind that.”

  I keep reading. “A. estrogen; b. oxytocin; c. vasopressin.”

  “Oxytocin.”

  “Yes.”

  Jax is next. “What are my favorite parts of Molly? A. Smile; b. butt; c. breasts; d. legs.”

  My eyes widen. “Uh…” He has commented a lot that he likes my ass…

  “Never mind, it’s all of the above. Your turn.”

  I choke on a laugh, shaking my head. “Okay. What is the best sex position for me to have a
n orgasm in?” I look up. “Me, as in me?”

  “Yes. You.”

  I clear my throat. “A. missionary; b. girl on top; c. doggy style; d. the bridge.” I look up. “I don’t even know what the bridge is.”

  “We’ll work on that. The answer is c, doggy style.”

  “That’s right.” My cheeks heat up as I lay down the card.

  “What makes Molly the most loveable? A. her sense of humor; b. her belief that everything will be okay; c. her PMS; d. her love of hamburgers; e. her generosity; f. her incredible trivia knowledge.” He pauses. “Although being a know-it-all can be a little annoying at times.”

  “Hey!”

  His lips twitch. “In life, it’s important to know when to stop arguing with people.”

  “And let them be wrong,” I finish.

  He barks out a laugh, shakes his head, then continues reading. “G. her sexpertise; h. her—”

  “Stop!” I press my hands to my mouth, trying not to laugh. “You’re crazy!”

  “That’s not the answer.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Okay, fine, the correct answer is all of the above.”

  My bottom lip quivers. “Jax.”

  “Your turn.”

  Shaking my head, I pick up a card. “Why is Jax an idiot when it comes to relationships?” I roll my eyes. “A. He’s just an idiot; b. He’s a coward; c. Both A and B.” I pause and add my own answer. “D. He’s not a coward and he’s not an idiot. That’s my answer.”

  He grins, but ruefully. “Yeah, I am. I’ve always believed marriage is for suckers. That real long-term relationships don’t exist. I’ve always been afraid that if I get into a relationship, I’ll hurt her because I’ll do something stupid like cheat on her.”

  I knew he didn’t believe in relationships. I knew part of that stemmed from his parents’ divorce. But believing he would do the same thing he thought his dad did? I didn’t know that. “Do you still believe all those things?”

  “No.” He meets my eyes and holds them with a steady, open gaze. “That was the idiot part. Then there’s the cowardly part.”

  I blink at him.

  “I talked to my mom earlier.” He lowers our clasped hands to his thighs. “I needed advice. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never screwed up like this before. I didn’t know what to do about it. My mom…always used to tell us that if you make a mistake, the first thing to do is admit it. Then learn from it. And don’t do it again.”

  “Good advice,” she murmurs.

  “I don’t want to make that mistake again…not talking about things.” He bends his head. “I’ve never been good about talking about my feelings.”

  “I know.”

  He lifts his head, his lips twitching. “Yeah. You told me that. I missed years with my dad because I didn’t want to talk about it. After he left, I pretended everything was fine. I was strong. I could handle my dad leaving, no problem. I kept telling everyone I wasn’t worried about my contract. But talking to you about that…helped. The way you listen and don’t judge…you never made me feel weak.”

  I swallow, my heart rising to lodge in my throat. “You’re not weak. It’s not weak to have feelings.”

  He nods. “That’s what Mom told me. Keeping myself closed off that way just deprived me of connecting with other people. Kept people distant. Even my parents.” He pauses. “Even you.”

  My bottom lip wobbles.

  “It left me all alone,” he rasps out, his fingers tightening on mine. “When I signed the contract, I didn’t have anyone to share to the good stuff with. And that’s important too.”

  “Yes.” I blink rapidly, my eyelashes damp.

  “I want you in my life. So I have to be brave enough to tell you how I really feel. Even if it scares the hell out of me. And I’m not scared anymore. I will be faithful to you, Molly. I know it. I don’t want anyone else. And I will never hurt you.”

  We share a slow, heated smile, warmth blooming inside me and spreading from my chest outward.

  He reaches out and picks up another card. “Who typically says ‘I love you’ first? Men? Women? Or both equally?”

  When he looks up from the card, I gaze at him. I open my mouth at the same time he does and we both say, “I love you.”

  Then we burst out laughing.

  Except my laughing is almost crying because I’m so emotional and I fling myself into his arms. He wraps me up in a tight hug, my face pressed to his shoulder. “I love you. So much.

  His hand strokes my hair. “I love you too, Molly.”

  26

  Jax

  Only inches separate our faces. I drag my gaze away from Molly’s wet eyes and look at her mouth. The plump bottom lip parts slightly from the top just so I can see the edge of her white teeth. I can’t believe she’s in my arms and she loves me and I’m so fucking relieved and elated and hot for her I can barely think.

  I hear her indrawn breath, feel the tremors of her soft body in my arms. Her scent surrounds us, intoxicating me. I feel her breath whisper on my lips, her heart knocking against me. I see her pulse, just as quick, beneath the fine skin of her throat.

  Then our mouths meet, in an agonizing, excruciatingly beautiful kiss. Her mouth is heaven, sweet and soft. I stroke inside with my tongue, and she opens for me, meeting my tongue with hers. I kiss her again and again, long, slow, clinging kisses, our tongues brushing as we draw apart in slow, lush licks. She moans deep in her throat, slides her hands around my neck and pulls me closer.

  I lift her onto my lap, turn her, tipping her back against the arm rest of the couch, leaning into her. I need to taste more of her, more of her sweet mouth. I thread my hand into her hair, twist it around my fingers and give a little tug, eliciting a whimper from her that has my blood sizzling through my veins.

  I draw back to look at her face. The love shining there punches me like a fist in the gut, spreading warmth and relief and gratitude through me. I kiss her again, deep, open-mouthed kisses, eating her up, trailing my fingers down the side of her neck, over her collarbone. I rub the top curve of her breast. Heat sparks, ignites and grows between us as our kisses deepen, as I cup one breast in my hand and rub my thumb over the nipple. My throat aches and my heart lurches with overwhelming emotion. I can’t get close enough to her.

  Without words, I stand and pull her up from the couch, and she leads me to her bedroom. There, she winds her arms around my neck and presses against me. We stand like that, foreheads together, noses side by side, just breathing in each other. Then Molly shifts her mouth closer to mine, and I take it in a long, hungry kiss.

  “Want you out of these clothes.” I pull her T-shirt up and over her head, and she reaches behind her back to undo her bra, a sweet little barely-there pink lace number. I flick open the button of her jeans and work them down over her hips, along with her panties. She steps out of them, one foot at a time, then I move her to the bed and lay her down gently. She smiles up at me, her hair spread around her face, her smooth skin glowing, her eyes shiny.

  As I take off my own clothes, I study her curves, her perfect breasts, the shallow indent of her navel, the swell of her hips. My eyes return to hers to see her watching me too, a look of avid longing in her eyes. I fucking love that.

  I lie down beside her, hand on her stomach, elbow bent, my head propped on my hand.

  Luminous green eyes turn to me and I’m lost. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  I press my face between her breasts, breathe in her pink citrus scent, then kiss the inside curve of each breast. I take a nipple into my mouth and suck, then rub my tongue over it. She tastes so sweet and her whimpers tell me how much she loves that. I move to the other nipple, taste it too, play with it with my mouth while my fingers pluck the other. I test the weight of her breast, squeezing it gently.

  “That feels so good.” Her fingers sifted through my hair, her body twitching and writhing against me. “So good.”

  I move over her and she r
eaches for my cock. Her hands feel sublime, soft yet firm, stroking me in long pulls that send pleasure licking over my skin.

  “Inside me. Please.”

  “I need to get a condom.”

  “Do you?”

  I lift my head and peer down at her. Our eyes meet. I swallow. Her trust hits me like a puck in the chest. “Do you?” I ask quietly.

  “I’m on the pill. And I went to the doctor when I got back to Chicago. All good.”

  “Me too.”

  “Okay then.”

  I press a hard kiss to her mouth as she guides me into her. Her heat and wetness surround the head of my cock, then more as I ease in, hot velvet squeezing me. A low, rough sound tears from my throat. I’ve never been bareback and I’m so fucking glad it’s with Molly.

  I hold my weight on my elbows and she parts her legs wider. I push in deeper, all the way, and the air rips out of my lungs. “Molly, oh, Christ.”

  “I know.” Her hands clutch my ass, pulling me deeper. “Fuck me, Jax.”

  My groans mingle with her sighs as our bodies come together, perfect, easy and right. I surge into her, our connection so intimate, joining not just our bodies but our hearts. Something even more than that. Our souls? Something touches me inside, a searing, exquisite sensation, an overwhelming desire to protect and take care of her, to be with her forever. My eyes sting and my throat closes up.

  I frame her face with my hands, my gaze holding hers. I see a reflection of my own devotion, my own longing, my own hope in her eyes, and it draws me in, so deep, like I’m falling over a cliff. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

  She stares back at me steadily, meaningfully. “Me either.”

  Christ. I know she’s been in love before. But those words mean so much to me. Emotion swells inside me and I’m overflowing with everything good and right and dazzling. “I love you, Molly. I love you.”

  Her hands stroke over my back and I feel the tenderness in her touch, hear her pleasure in her muffled whimpers, feel her love in the brush of her breath against my mouth. “I love you, too, Jax.”