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JAX
What the fuck?
Tegan gives me shit about other girls and arrives with another guy? And he has a man-bun. Seriously, Tegan? Looks like they’re friendlier than I knew; this is the guy the fans saw her with. Tegan’s not as innocent in all this as she makes out.
I scrutinise the pair for signs of touching or handholding, judging how close they stand next to each other. Nothing, but he makes her smile and laugh which is more than I've achieved recently.
I stand and Nate grabs my arm. “Leave it, man.”
“I need to talk to Tegan.”
“Don't make a dick of yourself.” He flourishes a hand around. “Pick up someone else. Show her you don't give a fuck.”
Problem is, I do; and if Manbun so much as brushes her skin, I'm going to lose my shit. I pick up my beer and debate whether to talk to her.
Maybe when she isn’t with Bryn.
I weave through the crowds in the direction of the bar. I’ll talk to Tegan later; I can't deal with this crap right now.
After ten minutes of staring into a glass of whisky, I look up and watch people heading to and from the bar. Julian appears and I size him up. No way is this dude as good-looking as me, and what the hell is he wearing? Maroon skinny jeans? Ugh. I bet he drinks kale juice and makes his own clothes and shit like that. I bet he's crap in bed.
I blink away an image of Tegan in bed with him, stomach turning at the possibility she might. Or could've already.
My drunken brain suggests I talk to him.
Julian turns his head in surprise when I mutter a hello.
“Oh, hey, Jax. How's things?”
“‘Things’ are okay. You’re with Tegan.”
He holds his hand out in greeting. “I’m Julian.”
“Uh huh. I remember.” I don’t take his hand. “You touched her?”
His eyes widen at my terse tone. “What?”
“Tegan. Have you touched her?”
He rubs a brow. “I'm not sure what you mean.”
“Yes, you do! She's a good-looking chick, men want her. Like you.”
“No, but it's not your business is it?”
Wrong move, man.“Yeah, it is. She's mine.”
“Uh. Right. You do know women aren't possessions?”
“She's mine,” I repeat.
“That's not what Tegan says.”
None of this is helping. Julian sighs and shakes his head as he picks up two bottles of lager. “I don’t want to argue with you, Jax. If you have something to say, talk to Tegan. Enjoy your night.”
“Dickhead,” I mutter as he walks away.
