Page 21 of The Jaded Notes

Istare into Livianna’s sky-blue, pleading eyes and want to decline, but my heart is saying otherwise. “Yes, I’ll help you. Why don’t we schedule something to discuss the mentorship program sometime in the next couple of weeks?”

Saying yes to her isn’t just professional. It’s personal. And dangerous.

But I offer her a version of my answer we can both live with. Not the one burning just beneath my skin.

Since the last time I saw her, she’s somehow become even more beautiful.

“Can I get in on this deal?” Trent stops his backward walk and steps toward me. “My dad doesn’t support my career decisions. He wanted me to go into his luxury real estate business and follow in his footsteps. I’m doing this all on my own.”

There’s a rawness in his tone, the kind I’ve heardbefore—young creatives carving out their futures without a safety net. It’s a mild form of panic.

I nod, masking the flash of recognition in my chest. I can’t say no to him, or my acceptance of Livianna’s request may seem suspicious.

“Of course, Trent.” I motion for us to continue to Livianna’s apartment. “I’m always willing to work with those who chase their dreams.”

Trent and Livianna surround me, pulling me into a group hug. When they wrap their arms around me—her perfume, his laughter, and their shared joy—I go rigid, then melt into it for one unguarded second.

Kisses land on my cheeks, and I can’t help but push them away even as I smile inside. This is the feeling I want to have when I mentor people on the rise.

For a moment, I’m just Jaxon, a man they believe can help them with all their goals. And that might be more intoxicating than power.

We continue to Livianna’s place. The three of us climb the narrow staircase to her door, footsteps echoing against timeworn stone steps. Livianna’s heels click like punctuation on a seductive poem I haven’t dared to read yet.

The truth is, I haven’t stopped thinking about her since she left for a funeral back in the States. Did she move to Paris to find me? If so, why does it hit like a fucking claim on my soul?

We’re almost at her apartment, and I can’t keep my eyes off her. She doesn’t look back, but I swear she knows I’m watching her. Don’t ask how. I just do.

She pulls her keys from her coat. Her hand trembles just slightly as she unlocks the door. I notice. I always notice her subtle movements.

Is she afraid I’ll see something in her tonight? Or am I the one afraid she’ll see through me? Like my forbidden, growing attraction to her.

“Don’t judge the mess.” She pushes the door open. “I was in a creative flow last night and have material and sketches thrown everywhere.”

“It must have been the full moon because I was the same way.” Trent brushes past her and enters.

I dip my chin for her to go first. “I’ve never heard that the moon can be a portal to creativity.”

She slips in before me. “Really? You’re the one who told me about meditation. Millions of people use full moon meditations to tune into all parts of themselves.”

“Well, when you say it like that…” I follow her in. “It’s just not something I pay attention to.”

“You’re missing out.” She places her belongings on the counter separating the kitchen from the main area. “Everyone could benefit from working with the moon’s rhythm.”

“Meditation, rituals, and flow.” A grin curls my lips. “You seem to be in a better state of mind than the last couple of times I’ve spent with you.”

She peeks up at me. “I’d like to think I’ve made some strides in that area, but I’m not perfect. I still mess up more than I’d like to admit.”

“We all do, my special little boo.” Trent rushes through the living space and throws his computer bag on her couch. “Pour me a glass of wine while I use your bathroom.”

“Red or white?” She unbuttons her coat.

“You decide,” he hollers as he closes the door.

“Let me help you with that.” I remove her jacket from her shoulders.

She shimmies out of it. “Thanks.”

She turns around and puts her hand out. As I do, I notice her wrists are almost weeping with blood, scratched like a cat attacked her, or like she took a razor blade to herself. My stomach drops, and I hesitate to move.