Always (New Adult Erotic Romance) (The Tryst Series #3)

by York, Marie

  “I should get back to work. I’ll come by tomorrow, and help you get your stuff.”

  Unable to speak, too broken from being rejected again, I nodded, and ran out the door. As soon as I was far enough away, I rested my back against the wall, and wondered if living with Jaxon was a good idea. Or, was I just setting myself up for more disappointment?

  Chapter 7

  “Are you sure about this?” Dee asked, dropping my duffle bag into the backseat of Bertha.

  I looked over her shoulder to Cole who was carrying out my suitcase. “I’m sure.”

  “I’m going to miss you,” she said with a pout.

  Cole tossed my suitcase into the trunk, and then came over to us. He draped his arm around Dee. “She’s only ten minutes away, which is a lot closer than the past two years.”

  Jaxon pulled up in his sleek black car, and hopped out. Cole went greet him, and butterflies kicked into overdrive in my stomach. I was going to have to get used to being near him because we were about to get a heck of a lot closer.

  “I’m going to miss you, too.” I pulled Dee into a hug. “We can do Tequila Tuesday at Baile’s.”

  Jaxon laughed as he and Cole approached. “The way you handle your liquor? I’d suggest sticking with water Wednesday.”

  Being the mature adult I was, I stuck my tongue out at Jaxon. He raised his sunglasses to glare at me, and then broke out his knee quivering, panty-dropping smile that had me slowly retracting my tongue back in my mouth. I bit my lip in an attempt to quell my desire.

  I cleared my throat, and pushed all naughty thoughts aside. “Nice of you to show up after everything is already in the car,” I joked.

  “What can I say? I’ve never been good with timing.”

  Cole squeezed Jaxon’s shoulders. “We’ll let you carry everything into your place, then.”

  “Our place,” I stated, and Dee high-fived me.

  Cole laughed, and smacked Jaxon on the back. “And it begins.”

  I let the idea settle in my head. Since last night, all I could think about was giving Dee and Cole their lives back, and now realizing that Jaxon’s place would also be my place, it was absolutely thrilling.

  I wondered if he slept in his boxer briefs and a t-shirt, or completely naked. Would I bump into him in the hallway in the middle of the night? Was he a morning person? I had no idea since we never seemed to make it to morning.

  “You ready?” Jaxon asked.

  It was now or never. I nodded. “Let’s go.”

  I hugged Dee again, and reminded her that I only lived ten minutes away, then got in my car, and followed Jaxon to our new home.

  We pulled up a few minutes later, and Jaxon came right over to my car to grab the bags. I took my duffle, and let him carry the rest, loving the way his muscles bulged at the extra weight in his hands.

  “You can park back here. I have cameras all over, so you and your car are safe. Just park away from the dumpster. That seems to be the favorite spot for people to throw up.”

  My nose scrunched. “That’s disgusting.”

  “Disgusting, but true. And you’ll be thanking me when your car doesn’t have an extra coating on it come morning.”

  “Yeah, old Bertha wouldn’t like that very much.”

  An amused smile tugged at his lips. “You named your car?”

  “Of course I did. Bertha and I go way back. She’s my oldest friend.”

  “Don’t tell me she was your first car.”

  “She was, and she hasn’t let me down yet.” I knew she wasn’t really a she and was a car, but she was faithful, reliable and resilient. More than I could say for most people in my life before college. “What was your first car?” I asked, as we took the back stairs to our place.

  He stood a little taller. “A 1988 Firebird.”

  “Let me guess. It was black?” I mocked.

  “Actually, it was red.”

  My eyebrows rose in surprise. “Red? I do not pin you as the red type. Kind of doesn’t go with the whole dark and mysterious persona you got going on.”

  Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Dark and mysterious, huh?”

  “How else would you describe it? You’re definitely not a forthcoming ray of sunshine.”

  He shrugged. “True. But I used to be into the flashy stuff.” We got to the door, and he put a bag down to get his keys.

  I couldn’t picture Jaxon in a bright red car. Nor could I picture him being into anything flashy. It wasn’t the Jaxon I knew, which only made me wonder. “Why not anymore?”

  He pushed the door open, and I expected him to let my question linger in the air unanswered, but he turned back to me with his dark, intense stare. “Realized it was stupid. Life’s more than a show.”

  A storm raged in his eyes, and I wanted to know more. What happened in his past that he refused to talk about? What made him change his outlook on life? The questions all sat on the tip of my tongue, begging to be asked, but as little as I knew about Jaxon, I also knew a great deal about him, and if I asked him any one of those questions, he’d shut down and walk away. If I was going to find out anything about Jaxon Reed, and the past he kept so tightly locked away, I would need to do it layer by layer. By the time we got down to the center, he’d finally let me in. Or so I hoped.

  So, I swallowed the questions down, and saved them for another day.

  Chapter 8

  The first night in my new place, I was restless. I picked up a book, but, after rereading the same sentence six times, I gave up, and tossed it back onto the nightstand. I unpacked my duffle bag, but even after the last article of clothing was in the dresser, I still wasn’t tired.

  Maybe a glass of milk would help. I thought about grabbing a robe to cover my silk cami and matching shorts, but it was two in the morning, and I doubted Jaxon was up. Even if he was, he had seen me in far less.

  I eased the door open, and tiptoed down the hall. Jaxon’s room was diagonal from mine, and I stopped for a moment outside, listening for any movement. There was complete silence, and I continued on my way.

  I remembered the cups being in the far left cabinet, and retrieved one before grabbing the milk and pouring a glass. I leaned against the counter, and took a cool refreshing sip. When I lowered the glass, I damn near choked on the milk. Jaxon stood in front of me in boxer briefs and a t-shirt.

  My breath caught in my throat at how sexy he looked with the slightest ruffle of bed head.

  He nodded to my hand. “You’re a middle of the night snacker, too?” he asked as he pinned me against the counter, and grabbed a box of cookies from the cabinet above me.

  Heat radiated off of him in delicious waves, and I wanted so desperately to be wrapped in his warmth. Instead, he stepped back and leaned against the other counter.

  “No, I just couldn’t sleep.” I held up my glass and smiled. “When I was a kid, my nanny used to give me a glass of milk when I couldn’t sleep, and it’s kind of stuck with me.”

  Curiosity tugged at the corner of his sleepy eyes. “Nanny? Where were your parents?”

  “Where weren’t they? Gala’s, art shows, dinner parties… whatever was the hottest invitation of the week.”

  Jaxon bit into a chocolate chip cookie, and I never thought I could be jealous of a piece of food, but watching his lips close around that cookie had me envious. He took another cookie and waved it at me. “I did not guess you as the trust fund baby type.”

  “Good. Because I’m not.”

  “You had a nanny, and your parents went to galas. To me, that pretty much says trust fund baby.”

  “True, but when I decided to go to the college I wanted to go to, and study what I wanted to study, they cut me off.”

  Jaxon’s eyes widened in surprise, and he picked up my milk, taking a sip. “They cut you off completely?”

  “Every penny. I wound up not being able to afford the college of my choice, and I had to take out a million student loans for a school that wasn’t even in my top five. I haven’t spoken with t
hem since I was eighteen.”

  He held out the box of cookies to me, and, while I usually avoided sugar in the middle of the night, I took one. “Thanks.”

  Realization flashed in his eyes. “Bertha. That’s why she means so much to you. You bought her yourself. Didn’t you?”

  I nodded. “Growing up in the city, I didn’t need a car. Plus, whenever I did, I just used my parent’s car service. So when they cut me off, my aunt helped me to get a job. From there I got my license, and then Bertha.

  “Do you ever miss it? Not the money. But your family. Your home?” he asked.

  Normally, I would avoid the topic. I hated talking about the life I left behind, but this was Jaxon, and, for whatever reason, I wanted him to know.

  I shrugged. “No. Living in the dorm with Dee for four years was more of a home to me then when I lived in a penthouse with my parents for eighteen years. I always thought I’d move back to be near my aunt on Long Island though. I had it all planned out. She was the only family I had left…but she died last year. I guess I don’t really have a home.”

  Understanding flashed across Jaxon’s stunning irises. He moved toward me, and my pulse raced in anticipation of what he was going to do, but instead of taking me in his arms like I had hoped, he reached above me, and put the cookies back. Disappointment engulfed me as I got an eyeful of the dusting of hair on his stomach that peeked out, reminding me of the glorious package it lead to.

  He leaned back, and rested his hand on my shoulder, looking deep into my eyes, deeper than any other person had ever looked, making me feel like he saw straight to my soul. “This is your home now, Lyla.” He pressed his lips to my forehead, his hand making a slow torturous journey across my shoulder to my arm.

  I glanced up, our lips a whisper away. My breath hitched, and I waited for him to capture my mouth with his. His hand on my arm tightened, and with a final squeeze, he let go.

  “Goodnight, Lyla,” he said, disappearing down the hallway, leaving me completely alone, and falling head over heels in love with him.

  Chapter 9

  A group of frat boys sat at the corner booth, and whistled when I approached them. I was getting used to the catcalls and inappropriate comments. I knew if I tolerated them, the tip would more than make up for the insolence they doled out.

  So, I plastered on a smile, and gave a wink to the group. “Hi, boys. What can I get you started with?”

  “I’d like a piece of you,” the guy closest to me said. His dark hair had more product in it than a hair salon.

  I didn’t let my smile waver. “Too bad for you, I’m not on the menu.”

  His friends oh’ed in amusement, and I could feel myself securing that tip. I put my pen to my order pad. “What else can I interest you in?”

  He smirked the sleaziest and cockiest of smirks. “I’m willing to pay extra for what’s not on the menu.”

  “Sorry, but it says right here.” I pointed to the fine print at the bottom of the menu. “No substitutes and no special requests. So, how about a drink?”

  The douche gave me a shit eating grin. “I’ll take an IPA.”

  I took the rest of the table’s order, but the guy didn’t take his eyes off of me. Customers rarely made me uncomfortable, but there was just something about this jerk that rubbed me the wrong way. He almost reminded me of the trust fund assholes I grew up with, who had never heard the word no, and didn’t understand the meaning of it.

  I ignored him, and pushed my way to the bar with my order, passing it to Gary.

  “Looks like a table of assholes,” Tara said, as she placed drinks on her tray.

  “Just the one, but I can handle him.”

  Tara winked. “You put that boy in his place,” she said, and then spun around, drinks and all, weaving in and out of the crowd.

  Gary gathered all the drinks, I put them on my tray, and then made my way back to the table.

  One by one, I placed the drinks down, and when I put the douche bags down last, he grabbed my hand. “Why don’t you meet me out back?” he suggested, loud enough to get his boys to laugh.

  I tore my hand away from his, and narrowed my eyes. “I’d like to think I’m a little classier than that,” I retorted and strutted away, playing the game to make the extra five bucks they would leave me.

  I headed to the back, and, as I pushed into the kitchen, Jaxon’s hand wrapped around mine, pulling me to him. I stumbled slightly, and pressed my hand to his chest to keep from nose diving into him.

  “Is that guy giving you a problem?” Jaxon growled as anger filled his gaze.

  I patted his chest, and gave him a half-hearted smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  His hand rested on my chin, and he urged me to look at him. “You sure?”

  “I’m capable of handling a few rowdy drunk guys. Give me some more credit than that,” I said with a wink.

  “Just…if he gives you any more problems let me know. Okay?” He reached up and tucked a stray hair behind my ear with the rest of the strands. His hand lingered, his stare more intense than ever, but it lasted for only a second before he snapped his hand away, and went back behind the bar.

  For the next hour, I dodged the guy’s grabby hands, and continued to play along with his game. Every time I went to the table, I felt Jaxon’s eyes on me. And, every time I turned around, I met his gaze.

  I headed back to the bar. Jaxon watched me as he dried a glass, his muscles flexing with each twist of his wrist. Too busy staring at Jaxon, I didn’t notice the douchebag move. He grabbed a handful of my ass, and I gasped, totally startled by the unexpected intrusion. I spun around, about to put him in his place, when Jaxon darted in front of me.

  Jaxon grabbed the guys’ wrist, and twisted it back, pinning it to the table. The guy winced, which only made Jaxon twist harder. Jaxon’s eyes darkened and filled with rage. “Touch her again, and next time I break it,” he snarled.

  The guys face turned a dark shade of red as sweat beaded on his forehead.

  “You got that?” Jaxon demanded.

  Gary stepped out from behind the bar, and Tara ran to the kitchen. Seconds later, Declan walked out, wiping his hands on a rag.

  Jaxon’s grip grew tighter, and even though the guy was an asshole, I expected his own friends to come to his defense. That didn’t happen, and I worried Jaxon was going to cause permanent damage.

  “Jaxon!” I yelled, but he didn’t even look at me.

  His grip tightened again, but then he threw the guy’s hand into the table. He towered over the booth as the guy cradled his hand.

  Memories of the night he knocked that guy out because of me flooded my mind. The memories weren’t the problem, though. It was the fact that Jaxon felt the need to always remind me of it, making me feel like I brought it on myself, and was incapable of taking care of the situation.

  I had been on my own since I was eighteen. Handling things, dealing with whatever life decided to throw at me, and to think that, for even a moment, he saw me as weak hurt far worse than anything that guy did tonight.

  I didn’t want to watch any more of it. I had enough. I stormed off, needing a minute to myself.

  “Are you okay?” Tara asked, holding my shoulders, and looking at me like a wounded puppy.

  “I’m fine. I just need a minute.” I forced a smile, and headed to the stairs. It was the only place I could go to get away.

  I was just outside Jaxon’s office when I heard footsteps behind me. I spun to find him coming toward me.

  “Did he hurt you?” he asked, reaching out to me, but I avoided his touch.

  “No. He didn’t. And just so you know, I’m not some damsel in distress that needs you to swoop in and rescue me. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. You didn’t even give me a chance to.”

  “That guy was pawing you. What was I supposed to do? Sit back, fucking watch, and wait to see if you had it under control? Fuck that.”

  “Of course not. Instead, you just storm over and practicall
y break that guy’s wrist.”

  “He’s lucky I didn’t break his fucking face.”

  “You didn’t have to…” A big messy ball of mixed emotions clogged my throat, and my words faltered.

  He ran his hands through his hair, the veins in his arms pulsing against hit taut skin. “Are you seriously defending him right now?”

  I threw my arms in the air. “No. I’m just saying that you always jump in, and you make me feel weak. Like you think I’m incapable or something.” I turned away from him, pacing back and forth. “I don’t even know.”

  Jaxon took my hand, pulling me to him, and squeezed it. “Hey, look at me.”

  I glanced up into his beautiful dark eyes. They were soft and kind, and had a way of turning the anger inside of me into unyielding desire.

  “You are not weak. And I definitely do not think you’re incapable. You just have to understand it from my side. Seeing you in any discomfort, watching some asshole trying to take advantage of you, sets this crazy fire inside of me that I can’t control. It takes over, and I can’t sit back and not do something. I don’t want anyone hurting you, or even touching you.” He dragged the tips of his fingers down the curve of my face, and looked deep into my eyes. “Because the only person I want touching you is me.”

  I drew in a surprised breath at his confession. I finally asked what I’d been wanting to since the minute I walked into his bar. “Then, why’d you leave me?”

  His eyebrows turned down, confusion running rapid in his eyes. “What are you talking about? I didn’t. You left me.”

  “No, you did. I woke up in that hotel room, and you were gone. I felt like my heart was torn out of my chest. You promised, and then you broke your promise.”

  He shook his head. “No. I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did,” I yelled, all patience gone.

  “No.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out his wallet. I watched him curiously as he opened it, and then he handed me a folded piece of paper.

  I took the paper and unfolded it. My breath caught in my throat as I read the words.