Page 61 of Heist in Paradise

That made her laugh. Something in my chest loosened at the sound. We were a bunch of miserable assholes and needed to find our happiness somewhere.

Like pretty girls with big gray eyes and pouty lips.

My cock stirred, remembering all too well the sounds she made, the warmth of her tongue, the way she tasted. I knew it was only a one-time deal, but shit. I was ready to sell my soul to keep her.

“Seriously, though,” Zola said, sobering up. “He’s been acting weird for a while. Ever since we got this job.” She shouldered her pack aggressively. “He needs rehab.”

“The Compound has a basement.”

“We can’t just lock him in the basement and throw him protein bars for a month.”

I rolled my eyes. “God forbid he doesn’t have his ten-step skincare routine.”

She laughed again, a bit rustier than before. “I don’t think your unique brand of tough love will cut it this time, Jax. He needs a proper facility. Actual therapy.”

“With goats,” I mused.

Zola gave me a weird look, which flattened in distaste. “You’ve been spending too much time with little miss pom poms.”

Little miss pom poms. I liked that. Uploaded it straight to my spank bank.

The others, minus little miss pom poms, were waiting for us in the foyer. Nate was slumped against the wall, crashing out. Callum was hovering, and Ryle was bouncing around him like a hopped-up jackrabbit.

I stopped. “Where’s—”

Madoc appeared in front of me like a fucking apparition. I jumped about a foot and went warm in weird places. “Jesus. We need to get you a bell.”

The look Madoc gave me was different from his usual ones. Something lurked beneath the mask, an unwanted curiosity. Green eyes lingered on my throat, and I reached up without thinking and gave it a scratch.

Had Olivia left marks on me?

Fuck, I should’ve marked her. The idea of her wearing my bruises while she returned to her perfect life was euphoric.

“Need something?” I asked him. My voice broke like a goddamn tween.

Madoc’s mouth twitched. “Never.”

“Good. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“All knowing and shit.”

Madoc hummed. There was a devious twinkle in his eye that usually meant one of us was about to get a pinecone to the head.

Had Madoc seen us?

It wouldn’t be too shocking, I suppose. He saw way too much. He’d definitely seen me in more compromised positions, so I had no idea why my face was burning up like a bashful bride. I jabbed his shoulder, and he responded with a quick undercut to my gut.

“Oof.” I bent over, relieved more than anything.

Pain was good. Pain was our love language.

Then Ryle bounced over with his dimples and hyper grin and said, “Aw, you two made up.”

I frowned at him as Madoc shifted. I had deluded myself into thinking the rest of the crew hadn’t picked up on the tension between us. Ever since that stupid night, those words I blurted out, the way I’d leaned in, heart in my mouth, only for him to withdraw completely.

“No. Not like this.”