Page 23 of Hot Girls Read Book Club

Jax shakes his head, dragging the hand at the back of his neck up through his hair, “You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it.”

The silence after my demand is deafening. Jax braces his hands against his hips, blowing out a breath. He’s stressed, the lines of his face deepening from the extended scowl, and it makes me feel a little better because if he didn’t still care, he wouldn’t be.

Jax looks at me, leveling me with his discerning gaze as though I’ve moved the Earth from under his feet and he hasn’t quite righted himself yet.

“My ex-wife cheated on me,” he says finally.

I don’t move or interrupt, but my chest tightens at the lingering hurt on his face. That kind of betrayal doesn’t just go away with time.

He swallows, jaw tightening.

“I didn’t handle it well.”

A humorless laugh slips out of him, like he hates admitting even that much out loud.

“I stopped sleeping. Stopped thinking straight at all. I did a hell of a lot of things I’m not proud of.” His hands flex at his sides, like he doesn’t know what to do with them anymore. “And then I got tired of being that guy—of letting her choices be the end of me, but you know how small-town life can be.”

His words are not just a confession, but a surrender.

A plea to be seen and understood.

The version of him I’ve been trying to reconcile with the version I’ve been hearing about suddenly makes a lot more sense, and I hate that it does. I hate that Bellewood would rather keep a man frozen in his worst chapter than let him move on from it.

I look at him for a long second. “I’m sorry that all happened to you. You didn’t deserve any of it. We all make questionable choices at rock bottom.”

Jax stands there, chewing the inside of his cheek with his eyes locked on the ground, and I can’t tell if he’s stuck in a memory or too embarrassed to look at me.

“You don’t have a corner on impulsive decisions, Jax.”

His brows furrow slightly, like he’s not exactly sure what I’m saying, but he lifts his eyes to mine anyway. I offer him a sad smile in return and keep going before I lose my nerve.

“I packed up my life and moved here after my breakup because I couldn’t stand staying somewhere everything reminded me of him.” My shoulders lift in a helpless shrug. “So if we’re comparing questionable coping mechanisms, I think I’m allowed to stay in this conversation.”

Jax’s shoulders drop, some of the tension finally releasing in his expression. It’s like he’s seeing me for the first time and realizing that I’m not whittling him down to the sum of all his mistakes.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to look at me differently,” he admits, voice dropped low and vulnerable in a way I don’t recognize.

His raw honesty has me swallowing against the lump forming in my throat. He steps forward, closing some of the distance between us.

“You were right, though,” I say just above a whisper. “I do see you differently now.”

Jax’s shoulders rise again. I let the silence stretch just long enough for him to feel the weight between us before I soften it. “I just don’t think it’s in the way you were worried about.”

He lets out a slow breath, jagged around the edges as if it physically hurts. For the first time since I walked in here, he looks less like a man holding himself together and more like one trying not to fall apart.

“I wasn’t a good man back then,” he reiterates, taking another step in my direction. “But I’ve left all of those reckless behaviors behind. I’ve been working toward a better future.”

I study him, really study him: the grease on his hands, the lingering tension in his jaw, the way he struggles to keep his distance, clearly unsure if he’s allowed to fully close it and come to me.

“That sounds…” My words drift off on a pause, searching for the right word that doesn’t reduce him to something less than he is. “Really hard.”

If my acceptance of his past shocked him, my understanding does him in. His eyes flick away for a second, like he needs a break from the intimacy rising between us. Like he can’t hold his emotions back anymore. Without thinking, I step forward, reaching for him. I slip my hands into his, squeezing gently against the warm, rough feel against my skin.

“You don’t get to decide if I’m strong enough to handle your past, Jax Mason.”

His gaze snaps back to mine.