Jax winks at me as he takes his seat. His leg brushes against mine. I suck in a breath and frown at him. Our stare down is broken by Logan tearing through the blue wrapping paper. His face lights up when he sees whatever is inside.
“Thanks, man!”
He springs up and gives Connor a hug. Not a one-arm man hug either, a real hug. He must really like it.
“Well, are you going to show us what he got you or not?” I ask.
“Concert tickets to Cheap Trick the second weekend of November!”
I jump out of my seat so fast the chair falls to the ground. Please say we’re all going, I chant in my head. To my relief Logan, holds out four tickets! All thoughts of Jax are momentarily forgotten. Until he picks up the chair. It doesn’t escape my notice that Jax moves my chair closer to his. I eye him, wondering what his game is, but he doesn’t give anything away.
“I think this present is more for Adalynn than me,” Logan says, distracting me from The God I’m forced to sit beside.
“Oh shut up. You’re the one who got me into them when we were little.”
When Logan picks up Jax’s present, Jax fidgets in his seat. I watch him from the corner of my eye, not wanting him to catch me staring. Hmm . . . What can be in the bag? Logan’s mouth drops open as he removes an old shirt. He sits there, immobile.
“An old shirt? Really Jax you couldn’t get him something better than one of your old jerseys?” Connors asks him.
I agree with Connor. I mean, come on, Jax has more money than anyone I know. Anything else would have been better than that. Still silent, Logan slowly turns the jersey around so I can see it better. My breath catches. Holy shit.
“Is that really his?” I ask Jax.
Connor gulps loudly. He seems ashamed from his comment earlier as he studies his beer with a forlorn expression.
Jax looks more than uncomfortable as he runs a shaky hand over his face. “Yeah . . . if you want something else, I’ll get you anything you want . . . I just . . .”
He stops his rant when Logan sweeps him into the biggest bear hug I’ve ever seen. Can Jax even breathe? Composing himself, Logan sits back down and traces the number twenty-three on the back with his finger in awe.
“How did you get this?” Logan and I ask at the same time.
It’s our dad’s jersey from when he played soccer in college. The one signed by everyone on his team the last year he played.
“I went through your storage in California. Found it and brought it back . . . I thought you would rather have it then it being kept somewhere in a box,” Jax explains.
WOW! I’m speechless and so is my brother. I don’t know what’s in storage since Logan dealt with all that, but I can only imagine there are millions of boxes everywhere. Give or take. I don’t even want to think about how much time that took. It’s incredible that he did that especially with his work schedule. He is an amazing friend to my brother and I think I just fell in love with him a little more.
“When?” Connor asks.
Jax shrugs. “I’ve had time lately and I wanted to give you something meaningful. Not that Cheap Trick tickets aren’t.”
“Thanks man,” Connor says sourly.
Jax winks and I can tell Logan is getting all choked up.
“I don’t...I don’t...even—”
“Don’t even worry about it. Happy birthday,” Jax says.
Knowing my brother needs a mood-lifter, I hand him his present. Naturally, I wrapped it in the brightest shade of neon pink wrapping paper I could find.
“Really Addie? They didn’t have any other color?” Logan accepts the box from my hands.
Giving him my cheesiest smile, I say in a sing song voice, “Nope, they only carry this color. I know it sucks!”
“Oh I’m sure that’s why, not because you’ve enjoyed giving me presents wrapped in pink since we were kids.”
“Why break tradition?”
We smile at each other. Logan tears into it and slides the lid off of the box. He picks up one frame after another, not saying anything. He sets each frame on the table and stares at them. I hold my breath. The guys can now see exactly what I got him. They look at the pictures, to Logan, to me, and back to Logan again. It’s eerily quiet and I can hear Logan’s heavy breathing from across the poker table. When I glance up, my brother blue eyes are pinned to my face.
I can feel how much pain he’s in now because of me. I can’t believe I’m such an idiot. Of course he doesn’t want a reminder of everyone that isn’t here on his birthday. I open my mouth to apologize, but stop when I see his eyes glistening with tears. Crap! I’m the worst gift-giver in the history of the world. I really thought he would love this. I turn away from him, and run though ideas to flee without being insensitive.
Emotions . . . I can’t do them.
Logan slowly stands and makes the few steps around the table to me. Bending down so we’re at eye level he whispers, “Thank you.”
He says it so earnestly that I immediately feel better.
“I can’t put into words how much this means to me, sis. I love it.” He folds his arms around me. “I’m so lucky to have a sister like you.”
I hug him back just as fiercely. “That’s good since you’re kind of stuck with me.”
Logan excuses himself to use the bathroom, but I think it’s more to rein in his emotions than anything else. Connor glares at Jax and I.
“What?” we ask at the same time.
“Maybe next time you two do a themed gift, let me know, okay?” he jokes.
I don’t find it funny, but I laugh alongside Jax anyways. I was thinking the same thing earlier when Logan opened Jax’s present. He bumps his shoulder against mine. He’s being playful, hopefully attempting to sweep whatever this is between us under the rug. That’s what I’m going to believe he’s doing, anyways. I’m tired of fighting with him. So he slept with me and then fled. Wouldn’t be the first time. I give him a small smile so that he knows I’m done with all the hostility between us.
It’s almost three in the morning when we’re all more than ready to leave. We’ve played way too much poker and drank even more. Thank goodness for taxis, or we would all be crashing here tonight. Logan leaves his gifts except for mine. He refuses to keep them here and retrieve them in the morning with the rest of the presents. Drunken logic, got to love it. I peer at Connor and Jax with my head held high. It there was a competition for best present, I so would have won. They both know me too well because they shake their heads at me.
Connor says, “You cheated with pictures!” at the same time Jax says, “It’s not a competition, Ads.”
“Obviously since I blew you guys out of the water. You’re just mad, Evans, because you’re a sore loser. Bring your A game next time, Chandler,” I taunt them.
We all laugh as we make our way to the lobby after saying goodbye to Connor. I stop in my tracks when I notice only one taxi. I stand next to my brother, glaring at Jax.
“Why is there only one taxi?” I ask him.
“We’re going to share a taxi,” Jax says as if it’s obvious.
“You and me? Why? You don’t live near me.”
“We’re gonna make sure you get home safely,” Logan says.
“You two do realize I’m not a child, right?”
Logan sighs loudly. “Get in the car, Addie.”
I really, really do not want to be crammed in a taxi with Jax. That does not sound like a good time to me especially in my drunken state. I’ll do something to embarrass myself. I know it.
I stomp my foot. “No! I can get home all by myself. Thank you very much.” The words jumble together. Stupid alcohol.
They both laugh at me. Screw them! I will not ride with Jax. I refuse! Jax’s eyes widen and he shakes his head in frustration. Logan stops laughing and stares at me and then Jax in question. Crap! Stupid alcohol, I said that out loud. I can only stare open-mouthed at my brother, hoping that he doesn’t piece together what’s happening with his little sister and
best friend.
“Why can’t you ride with Jax? What did he do?” He asks the other question to Jax, stepping closer to him.
This is not good. Jax chuckles. Does he have a death wish? I seriously think there’s something wrong with him.
“Ads is just mad because she shattered the screen on her phone last night and blames me instead of her two left feet.”
They both turn towards me. I open my mouth to tell him off, but stop. He wins, I can’t yell at him because if I do, then Logan will know something is up. After a few more choice words, I follow behind my brother and sit in the middle of the taxi.
“Nice save,” I whisper to Jax.
He nods but doesn’t say anything. Maybe he’s back to ignoring me? I would ignore me, too. When the cab takes off, my eyes drift shut. I feel my body being moved, but I can’t open them to see why. I feel protected. I rest my head on something hard and welcome the pleasant woodsy scent.
I count to five slowly, hoping that I’m dreaming, but I know I’m not. I’m not that imaginative, I can’t dream up Jax’s scent. I’ve tried and failed. As soon as I breathe in his scent again, my brain wakes up from its drunken slumber to let me know I’m in Jax’s arms. I open my eyes and I’m met with the most beautiful green eyes in the world. Just being this close to him makes me moan in pleasure. His jaw tightens.
I hear the distant click of my door unlocking and become instantly aware of my surroundings. Logan attempts to hold the door open, but settles for leaning against the doorframe for support. I’m not surprised by my brother’s drunken state. He shouldn’t have done those shots with Connor. Logan barely makes it to the couch before passing out. Guess he’ll be sleeping here tonight.
I am surprised how sober Jax appears, though. When we reach my bedroom, I struggle out of his arms, wanting to be as far away as possible from The God, but he grips me closer to his chest. I want to stay here forever wrapped in his arms. But reality is a bitch and this isn’t a dream. I don’t belong in the safety of his arms.
“Put me down,” I demand quietly.
Ignoring my protest, he continues to carry me.
“Jax, please, I just want to go to bed. You’re going the wrong way.”
He flips on the light to my bathroom. I squeeze my eyes closed and bury my face deeper into his warm chest. That was bright. He finally lets me go and deposits me on the counter. I watch him make himself at home in my bathroom. He squeezes toothpaste on my toothbrush, runs it under the sink, and holds it in front of my mouth.
To my shock he says, “Open.”
I’m too stunned to do anything but obey. His complete focus is on my mouth. I sit immobile while he brushes my teeth. I’m so entranced as he takes care of me that I barley notice that he’s stopped brushing my teeth.
He points my toothbrush towards the sink, humor evident in his eyes. “Spit.”
I want to spit in his face, but I of course I do what I’m told. He rinses off my toothbrush when he’s finished, then puts it back in its rightful place. He grabs my make-up removal cloths next. I put my hand up to stop him.
“I’m capable of doing this myself, Jax.”
He swats my hand away, takes my chin in his huge strong hand and starts wiping off my make-up. “I never said you weren’t,” he says once he’s done.
Thanking him, I slide off the counter but he moves too fast and suddenly I’m in his arms again. I sigh dramatically, trying to pull off the “I’m annoyed sigh” but it comes off more as a moan than anything else. Lovely.
“Just so you’re aware, I can actually use these to walk.” I kick my legs to prove my point.
He chuckles as he nears my bed. I think he’s going to set me down and leave, but nope, that would be too kind of him. Instead he drops me on my bed. Roughly.
“Ouch,” I say in mock anger.
He laughs as he strides to my dresser to get me something to sleep in. If I wasn’t fully aware that my brother is in the living room I would taunt him by stripping, but instead I settle for studying him. He wears a smug grin when he gives me a jersey. I don’t even need to see it to confirm it’s one of his. Wanting to get rid of his stupid smile, I stand up and turn away from him. I’m done being waited on.
Glancing over my shoulder at him I ask in a sultry voice, “Get the zipper?”
His Adam’s apple bobbles up and down a few times before he reaches out slowly to unzip my dress.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
I saunter into my closet with the jersey in hand. I strip out of my dress, unhook my strapless bra, and slide a long shirt off the hanger. Once I’m dressed, I throw his jersey into my hamper before rejoining Jax in my bedroom. When I say walk I mean stumble since I’m still drunk. When I finally reach my bed that I swear has moved, it dawns on me that I didn’t grab boy shorts to sleep in. Awesome. I start to stand, but the stupid floor starts to move. What the heck is that about? Jax steadies me and bends down so his face is lined with mine.
“Get into bed before you hurt yourself, Ads.”
I close my eyes to prepare myself for what I’m going to say next. He couldn’t have just left me to fend for myself, could he? No, of course not. Jax lives to confuse the crap out of me.
I whisper, “I’m not wearing any panties . . . can you help me to my dresser so I can grab some boy shorts please?”
He sucks in a breath. He clenches his jaw so tight I’m sure it’s about to break, and he runs a hand over his face. His eyes darken. At first I think he’s turned on, but that changes when I notice how pissed off he is. Why is he mad? He’s the one that wouldn’t let me get up.
Without a word he spins on his heels, makes his way to my dresser and grabs the first thing he sees. He tosses it over his shoulder and surprise, surprise, the boy shorts land right next to me. Ugh, why is he good at everything without even trying? I yank them on. I open my mouth to thank him but he’s already gone. Shocker.
I shake my head, annoyed. I clamp my hands over my mouth and take slow deep breaths, willing myself not to throw up. When the wave of nausea subsides, I lay down in bed. I don’t even bother huddling underneath the blankets. I’m way too tired. I close my eyes and pass out.
Chapter Fourteen
I finally start at Malcara Enterprises today. I’m buzzing with excitement. Yesterday I may or may not have gone a little overboard in the shopping department for new work clothes. I’m a girl, what can you expect?
After I style my hair into a side bun, I put on a light shade of shimmery grey eyeshadow to make my violet eyes pop, a little eyeliner and mascara to finish it off. I select a light shade of pink lipstick. Bam, my face and hair are done in a matter of minutes.
I step into my Derek Lam fitted silver dress. It’s chic and business in one, perfect for my first day! I forgo jewelry and slip into my Michael Kors suede booties. Gripping my red Valentino tote bag, I rush to the kitchen to snag a breakfast bar and a water. Stuffing both in my bag, I dash out of my apartment.
My morning is full of playing catch-up. Which is perfect for me. I’m a fantastic multitasker. I’m given no direction, well not if you count “here’s all the papers that need to be dealt with.” My boss did add that I can ask questions if I have any, but me being stubborn, I chose to ignore that last part and figure everything out on my own. I’m almost done with everything when Tinkerbell strolls out of her office towards me. I smile warmly at her.
“Lunch is in about thirty. I have the perfect place for us to go,” she says as she continues on her way.
My mouth drops open in surprise. I thought she was going to ask me to do something for her, not invite me to lunch. Well, demand is more like it. I see her smack her hand over her face before she stops and turns around with a guilty expression on her face. I raise an eyebrow in question.
“I’m so sorry. You probably already have plans . . . I just thought since you’re new and everything.”
I laugh at how quickly she can switch from commanding to uncertain. Tinkerbell to the core, I swear!
&nbs
p; “That sounds great. Just come get me when you’re ready to go to lunch, Ms. Harrison.” I use her last name because I don’t want to sound unprofessional.
The look of horror that washes over her face tells me before she says anything that I should have gone with her first name.
“No need for last names with me. Call me Harper. Never Ms. Harrison.”
Harper takes me to a little hole in the wall diner that I would have never known was here without her. Once we open the heavy wood door, I fall in love immediately. There’s a homey vibe to this little Mexican place. We grab the only table available, and both order water, mine with ice, hers without. Our server brings chips and salsa and takes our orders.
After eating a chip Harper asks, “How do you like Malcara so far?”
I tell her all about my first day, and how much I like it. “Ask again at the end of the week, though.”
She laughs at my joke. After the server delivers our meals, I moan when I take the first bite of the burrito. Holy crap! Tinkerbell gives me a knowing look.
“Best Mexican around. Told you.”
We launch into girly topics after a few bites and I learn that she may beat me on the whole over-spending gene by a landslide. She loves clothes more than me and that’s saying something. I love that she doesn’t bring up any family questions so I skip over those, too. However, I do ask where she’s from, I mean the woman does have a southern accent.
Laughing she says, “I’m from Alabama. I’m surprised it took you this long to ask. It’s usually the first thing somebody asks me.”
We argue over the bill, but she’s quicker than I am.
“It’s your first day. Besides, you can get the next one.”
I smile, realizing that I’ve just made my first friend since high school. I think this is bigger news than my job. I can’t wait to tell Liv at therapy today.
After we get back to work, I don’t see Harper until we’re leaving for the day because she’s been stuck in meetings. I finish closing up my computer files, stand up, and collect my things. I say a quick goodbye to my boss, William.
Beautifully Shattered (The Beautifully Series Book 1) Page 21
