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I glance over the car one more time before heading back toward Jax.
Once we’re inside, I feel a kind of warmth that I didn’t expect. Maybe it’s just because I’m soaking wet and freezing from the rain. Maybe it’s from something else.
He turns on the lights and sets them to the dim setting, which I appreciate as I take note of Jax Monroe’s home.
When I was littler, I would always dream of what my own home would look like. Not the one that I lived in with my parents or my small apartment now, but the one that I would buy on my own with the money from my doctor job that I obviously do not have.
My friends and I used to playM.A.S.Hand I would always rig it to get the mansion. Obviously, those were all hopes and dreams and life happened differently. But not once did I ever think about Jax being the kind of guy to grow up and be as successful as he is. Not that I doubted him. But I always thought it would be me inviting him into my fancy home.
Eleven-foot ceilings and white walls with black trim around the windows and doors is what I’m welcomed to. Though it’s dark outside, I can tell that during the day the natural light is unreal. There’s light oak trim on the railing of the modern stairs that zig-zag to another floor and they match the color of the wood flooring. From what I can see, it’s an open floorplan with a brick-backed fireplace all the way at the other end—we entered through the kitchen—where the living room is. Wherever there isn’t a window, it’s all white walls and matte black fixtures. Even the kitchen is modernly designed with white marble and gold accents.
This is my dream.And he’s living it. Part of me wishes that I would have done better, because I know that this could be my life if I had stopped being a basket case and just focused on me. But the better part of me mentally notes how fucking proud I am of the man in front of me.
I shake my shoes off on his doormat and step inside a little further, allowing him to close the door behind us which causes a million thoughts to raid my mind.
“Do you want to shower? I can set you up in the guest room with towels and…” he rubs the back of his neck, “something to wear.” I can tell he’s nervous, but I don’t think it’s on his half more than it is on behalf of me.
He wants to make this as comfortable for me as possible.
“Yeah, that would be really nice actually.” If I can’t clear my mind with sleep–which, let’s be honest, probably wouldn’t have worked anyways–then a warm shower might be my best match.
He takes my keys from me and drops them into a bowl on the kitchen counter before leading me up to the second floor to the guest room.
I don’t let my eyes wander much, trying to focus on what we’re going to say to each other when I get out of the shower. Or if I’m going to sleep here? Do I even want that?
“Here is the guest room. I can damn near hear your thoughts from here, Hollis,” he tells me as he opens the door to a room that looks just as aesthetic as the rest of the house.
“You can?” I shrink into myself wondering what my tell is.
“Yeah. And no, you don’t have to stay the night if you don’t want to. But this room is yours for the night if you want. The bathroom is off to the right over there. I can bring you some things of mine to try on for size and you can wear what fits.” He stands back as I enter the room, listening to every word he’s saying like my life will depend on it. I leave my back to him, thinking he’ll walk away but I hear him breathing lightly.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“For what?” I ask, still letting him look at my back as I feel the sting of tears threaten my eyes.
“For coming after me. I was ready to come back here, pack up and leave. For good.” His admission hits me hard in the chest, like a baseball flying at me at eighty miles an hour.
I turn to face him; his head is lowered to the ground.
“You were?”
“Yeah, Hollis, I was…” he sighs before looking up at me. “Listen, take your shower and we can talk after that. Whatever you’re comfortable with. You can find me down the hall, my room is on the left.” He gives me one more look, it’s sad and honest. His exhaustion is present, and I immediately blame myself for that.
And then he walks away.
I wipe at the steam that’s layered over the mirror to clear the fog so I can look at myself. But I don’t need to see what I look like to know that I probably look like I got hit by a truck.
I open the door to the bathroom leading into the bedroom, towel wrapped around my body, to see that there is a pile of neatly folded clothes on the bed. Jax must have come in and set them there like he said he would. I walk over and pick through them, finding a shirt and sweatpants that seem to fit me well enough, and I put them on. I wrap the towel around my head to dry my hair and I sit on the bed for a few seconds. I left my phone in the car, and I think about going to get it, but decide I don’t need it. Kylan said he’d take Jae home and I live by myself now. So, I no longer need to check in with anyone.
I take a few more minutes to soak in my surroundings before working up the courage to head toward Jax’s room. But before I can force myself off the bed, a light knock raps against the door.
“Come in,” I offer, knowing that this is his room, and he doesn’t need permission to come in.
“Hey.” Jax peeks his head through and looks at me. “I was checking on you, making sure you didn’t-”
“Try and run away,” I finish his sentence. I know he’s worried about me leaving, it’s practically what I do best. If it’s not me walking away, then I’m forcing him to.
“Can I?” he asks, nodding toward the bed where I’m sitting. I scoot over and give him silent permission to join me.
