by Lux, Vivian
He started walking again, but I found myself rooted to the spot by his soft words. This was not what I was expecting. That moment in the hallway had been fun, reckless, and meaningless. The Jax that pressed me against the wall… he was the arrogant jerk I was used to. The one I had taught myself to despise. That was the Jax I wanted to hate-fuck and forget about.
This Jax? The one cupping my face and searching my eyes? The one reassuring me instead of giving me crap? Who the hell was he?
I shivered. "You cold, Bit?" Jax asked. Without waiting for my reply, he whipped his battered leather jacket off his shoulders and slung it around mine. He stepped back, sinking into the soft sand and grinned at me. 'I don't know what I expected here. You look like you're wearing a cape."
I pulled it tightly around me. "Or a sleeping bag." I was surrounded by his scent. "But aren't you going to be cold?"
"Yes. Which is why you need to stick close to me. Keep me warm." He plopped himself onto one of the logs by the fire and pulled me down into his lap. "There. That's better.
I settled back against his chest, every nerve in my body on red alert. But Jax was right. A few people turned in our direction, but they only gave us blank, friendly smiles before turning back to their conversations. I relaxed into Jax's chest. He pressed his lips to my neck and then rested his chin on my shoulder.
A bonfire on the beach. It was so… normal that I felt a pang of sorrow for the me that never was. A normal teenager hanging out on the beach with friends, in the arms of a loving, uncomplicated boyfriend.
Jax kissed the place where my neck met my shoulder again and sudden anger welled up in my chest. "Stop," I said, wiggling off his lap.
He looked up at me, confused. I was confused myself. Creeping panic raced up my spine. "What are you doing?" I demanded.
"As far as I can tell, I was kissing your neck," he said.
"Yeah, but why?"
I could see his brow furrow dark shadows in the firelight. "Well, mainly because I like your neck."
I waved at him in frustration. "Do you remember the last time we were at the beach together?"
Jax narrowed his eyes. "Of course I remember," he said sullenly. "What kind of question is that?"
I don't know. I needed to feel the pain again. Pick at the scab that seemed to insist on healing over. "You were so drunk. You told me…"
"I told you how I felt about you. Yeah," he interrupted.
I bit my lip, my anger briefly derailed. The memories were stirring things up inside of me, things I was fighting very hard to keep still. "You did," I said carefully. "You were definitely drunk and I figured…"
He jumped to his feet. "I meant it, Bit. Everything." He ran his fingers through his hair until it stood up in wild tufts I ached to smooth. "Fuck, I still mean it. I didn't stop." He pointed his finger at my chest. "You ran away from me, not the other way around, I'll remind you."
The pain flooded afresh. "Ran away? Is that what you think I did?"
"What the hell else would you call it?"
"Moving on!" I said. I yanked his jacket up over my shoulders and sagged inside of it, then realized what a mistake that was. Everything smelled like him. I shrugged my shoulders, dropping it to the sand. I was instantly freezing, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of needing him like I did. "After you so clearly moved on yourself."
His mouth opened and then closed and the light that had been burning in his eyes since the show suddenly snapped back off again. I hadn't even realized it was there until it was gone. "And how is moving on working for you, hmm?" he asked. "You're still here. We're still…" He sank his hands between my legs and I pushed him away, hot, fresh anger bubbling up into my veins.
"I'm here because our parents are getting married, dumbshit!"
He gripped me tighter. "No. Here." He waved his hand to take in the fire, the dark ocean, the sand underneath our toes. "You're here. With me. You've no more moved on than I have. There's no moving on from what we had, Liliana. You're fucking it for me."
I didn't realize I was shaking my head until I spat the word at him. "Bullshit!" I was going to start crying any minute now, and that pissed me off. "How many girls have you fucked since I left, huh? How many before then? You know how many guys I've been with? One." I stabbed him in the chest with my finger. "So how are you going to tell me I'm 'it?’ "
I poked him again, but he swatted me away like a fly. "You've always been it," he said sadly. Then he turned back to the fire.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jaxson
She stomped off, by the sound of it. I heard her greet Kayla and Harlow, ask them what they were drinking. Standing here by the fire—with my hands shoved into my pockets to keep from punching something—while pretending I didn't want to rush after her and demand to know what the fuck just happened was making me crazy.
"I saw that, dude." I was still trying to hear what Lily was saying, so when Casper appeared by my side, like the pale-ass ghost he was, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
"Fuck. Asshole, I'm going to start making you wear a bell."
He grinned. "I could have probably grabbed the amp stack and done a whole 80s-style solo and you still wouldn't have fucking noticed." His smile faded. "I've never seen you get so worked up about a chick before."
"I'm not worked up." I grimaced, pulling my arm away before he tried to fucking pat me or something. "She's crazy. They're all crazy."
Casper ran his big hand over his bald head. "I used to think that too, before I met Harlow." He shot her a fond look and I followed his gaze.
That was a mistake. Lily was standing next to her, her head thrown back in wild laughter. Harlow said something in her ear that made her spit her drink, then lift her glass in salute. Kayla began shimmying her hips and Lily bounced on her toes as the random guitar player picked up his acoustic and began strumming a familiar tune.
"That's a pretty thing right there," Casper said. He raised his beer in Harlow's direction and she blew him a kiss back. Lily looked at her and then over at us. Her nose wrinkled and she poured another shot down her throat before turning her back to me and starting dancing in a circle, weaving her little body in a manic undulation.
"I see why you like her," chuckled Casper.
"Fuck off," I snarled. I didn't like him seeing her like this. I didn't like anyone seeing this version of Lily—the wild, unhinged version that I thought was only for me.
The three girls whooped as the guitar player stood up and began strolling over to them. I could see the look in his eye, and I didn't fucking like that either. Lily whooped again and raised her shot glass in his direction, downing what number I had lost count. And all of a sudden my feet were moving.
I walked to her side, casually inserting my body between her and the guitarist. She looked confused at what was holding her back from dancing until she saw it was my hand.
"Slow down, Liliana," I hissed. "You can't drink like that."
"How the hell would you know?" she slurred, swaying slightly. "Hey, who the hell are you, anyway?"
"Lily, stop it."
"I know! You're that ‘Cocky’ guy!"
"Shut the fuck up."
"Annie Blue's son, right?"
I gritted my teeth. "Dammit Lily, that's low."
She smirked and weaved in front of me. "Yeah, so's writing a song making fun of your ex."
"What the fuck?"
"Cheers!" She lifted her glass and threw back another shot, then stumbled backwards. I caught her as she sank to the ground.
"Christ, Lily. I don't know what the fuck you're trying here, but it ends now. I'm taking you home."
"Is she going to be okay?" Harlow asked. "You know how to get her home?"
"Yeah," I muttered as I scooped Lily up in my arms. She mumbled something in protest, then her head sagged against my shoulder. "I know where she lives. Hey, do me favor?"
"What do you need?"
"Go grab the car keys from Casper. Tell him I'll drop it back off in the m
orning.”
"Sure." Harlow tripped lightly across the sand and I was grateful for a moment that my friend had found a good one.
Kayla stood, smiling and swaying. "She's pretty tiny," she observed, like it was some grand fucking revelation.
"No shit," I grumbled. Too tiny to be drinking like a fish. That was my area of expertise, not hers.
"Here you go, Jax," Harlow ran breathlessly up to us and handed me the keys. "He said to tell you the registration's lapsed. Don't speed."
"Oh, fuck. Well that's awesome. Tell him I'll pay to get it registered as a thank you." I shoved the keys in my pocket and lifted Lily into my arms. "I wasn't here tonight, okay?"
"What?" Kayla looked confused.
"Nothing. See you ladies soon."
"Bye, Jax!" Kayla lifted her arm and waved wildly overhead, drawing the eyes of a few people sitting by the fire. Great, another audience. This wasn't the kind of attention I wanted to have.
Harlow watched me closely as I picked my way over the sand to the staircase. Lily was as light as ever in my arms, but as I began to climb the stairs, my arms started to burn. Her head lolled against my shoulder. "…mean anything…" she muttered, then let it fall back.
"Jesus fuck, Bit." I reached the landing and lowered her gentle to the planked floor. I stood up and stretched. "What the hell was that?"
To my surprise, she lifted her heavy head and squinted at me. "I just wanted to have some fun," she slurred before trailing off again.
"Drinking your body weight in alcohol is not the right way to have fun." Fuck, when did I turn into a fucking nun? I was chastising her like her father. Well, not really. Her real father would have probably joined in and gone shot for shot with her.
"Not here," she grumbled, lifting her arms and then dropping them heavily to her sides. "With you."
I crouched down. "I was having fun with you, Lil. Right up until the moment you went psycho on me."
She didn't answer. I crouched there, waiting, holding my breath.
She let out a gentle snore.
I laughed. I couldn't help it. "Come on, Bit. Let's get you in bed."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Liliana
The room was too hot and too bright. I threw the covers off my sweat-drenched body and saw that I was wearing my purple flannel pajamas.
I stared down at them, confused. I had most definitely not worn those to the club last night. I specifically remembered my outfit, because it had taken me so long to pick it out. And I think I had torn my favorite purple tank top when we… when Jax…
It took me a minute to realize that the pathetic moan I was hearing was my own.
Something had come over me when I saw him on stage. Something wild and reckless and desperately needy. I wanted him to fuck me, but when he did it had felt more like… making love.
I quickly shoved that thought out of my pounding head and hauled myself upright. My mouth tasted like an old sock and felt like a desert. That's when I saw the glass of water on the shelf by my bedside.
He had dressed me in pajamas, put me to bed, and left a glass of water for me when I woke up with the inevitable headache. That was… really nice.
I flipped out on Jax in front of a bunch of his friends. Not because he was being an asshole. Because he was being too nice.
I suddenly felt like the worst person on the planet.
My resolution to hate-fuck him in a fun, easy fling had gone up in the smoke from the bonfire. I drank way too much, and he got me home safely, undressed me without waking me, and tucked me into my bed. Flings don't do that for each other. Something had changed last night. He had changed.
I clapped my hands over my face, wanting to hide from the light of day. I still had nine days here. The only thing I could do now was avoid him until the wedding and get the hell out of here before I did any more damage. To him, or to my fragile willpower.
After I finished the glass of water, I felt marginally better. The water sloshed in my stomach as I got dressed slowly and painfully. I poked my head out into the hallway. His door was closed, but that could mean anything. I hoped he was anywhere but here. I couldn't take him seeing me like this. Not when I could still feel last night's ache between my legs.
Then his door opened and Jax walked out carrying a glass of water. He froze. "Oh, you're awake." He was dressed, showered and shaved and his hair looked freshly dyed. The blue was so intense it gave me a headache.
"You were watching me sleep again? Oh my god Edward Cullen, stop being creepy."
"Who?"
"You're kidding me, right?" I waved my hand. "Never mind."
"I was just bringing you more water, psycho." He set the glass down on my bedside table and took the empty one, before backing away with his hands held up.
I rushed to slam the door on him, then instantly regretted it when the loud slam pierced my skull. "Oww," I moaned, sagging back onto the bed. "I'm never drinking again."
Jax chuckled on the other side of the door.
"Are you laughing at me?" I demanded.
"Yup."
"Why?"
"Because you're being ridiculous. Open the door, Lily."
"No."
"I have aspirin…"
I slunk miserably to the door and let it swing open as I stared down at his feet. "Give them to me."
"Say please."
"Really? Asshole!"
"Then I guess you don't want them?"
"No. I don't want them. I don't want anything from you."
He waited a beat. "You're a liar."
"I'm not." Fierce, I reminded myself. "You're just a bad habit. I can quit you just like I quit biting my nails."
He lifted my hand and turned it over. I was aware of every inch of contact his skin made with mine as he inspected each ragged, freshly bitten fingernail. "Huh," he said.
I snatched my hand away and my fingers immediately went to my lips, before I remembered and lowered them back down again. I lifted my chin.
Jax's mouth curved into a knowing smile. He leaned forward, so close I could feel the atoms buzzing between us. "One good thing about me, Lil. I'm not a quitter."
Shutting the door on him didn't feel nearly as good the second time. It felt like I was admitting he had won.
*****
I opened my door again not long after, determined not to be driven into hiding. I could handle this. There were other people in this house besides Jaxson Blue, and I meant to go find them.
The sounds of far-off banging and jovial shouts rang through the house as I made my way into the kitchen to see my father sitting there at the island with a bunch of circuitry spread around in front of him. Glasses, the first time I had ever seen them on him, perched at the end of his nose and he peered over them while he swore softly at a wire.
"Morning, Dad," I said, sliding into a chair. I looked around hastily. Jax was nowhere to be seen.
My Dad looked up and gave me a wry smile. "Actually, afternoon, but no matter."
I looked up at the clock. He was right. I suddenly felt like a lazy slob. "What are you working on?"
"Stuff for the studio."
"Shouldn't you be working on wedding stuff?" I grinned at him. "You're getting married pretty soon and all."
He waved his hand. "Annie's got that all figured out. Honestly, you really think she's letting me anywhere near her big day? I'm just showing up, wearing a monkey suit, and keeping my mouth shut."
I spotted my chance. A way to keep busy and out of close proximity to Jaxson Blue. "You know, you made me come out here early because you said you needed help with the planning, and so far, all I've done is sleep and write. Is there anything you need me to do today?"
He looked back down at his wires. "Nah, Bit. You just sit tight."
"Really? Nothing?"
He winced. "Well, maybe something?"
I leaned forward, eager for the distraction. "What's that?"
"Annie wants us to write our own vows and shit." He winced again when he cu
rsed but I waved him on. "I ain't so good with words. You are. You're real good at writing that flowery shit. I was hoping you'd help me write my vows."
"Oh, Dad!" I couldn't help it, I squealed.
"My God, you chicks really are all alike, aren't you?" But he grinned proudly and tucked a wayward strand of hair away from my face.
"We can start that now. Where's a piece of paper?"
"Really? Now?" My dad looked down at his wires wistfully. "I've got time, don't I?"
"Lyle Charles Nesbit, you are not writing your wedding vows the night before you walk down the aisle. You asked for my help, and that is my one condition."
"You really sound like your mother, you know that?" He looked down, sadness overshadowing the gruffness.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should. She was a hell of a woman. I was a shit husband to her, but it wasn't her fault."
My heart skipped a beat. My eyes filled with tears and I looked quickly down at the scrap of paper he had slid in front of me. "There's always room for second chances, Dad." I told him. The words seemed to echo in my head even after I said them, hanging there like the last ringing chord of a sad, sorrowful ballad.
"Do you really believe that?" Dad asked me.
I covered his hand. "I do."
"Me too," Jax piped up from the doorway.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jax
Bit jumped a mile and the tips of her ears turned red. Caught you, I thought to myself. No door to hide behind this time, Bit.
"How long have you been standing there?" she faltered.
"Long enough to hear the old man needs some help." I yanked a chair away from the table and slung my leg over it. "I'm hurt, you know, that you didn't ask me."
"Yeah? Didn't think you'd be interested." Nails peered out at me from under those bushy-ass eyebrows. The stylist the label hired for my band would have a heart attack over those caterpillars.
