AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It’s a story of my own.
“All right.” Impatience laces his tone. “We’re heading down … But I need to talk to you sometime this morning about some stuff … Just something.”
I suspect he’s speaking in code, but I have no idea what the hidden message is.
“Okay.” He hangs up the phone, tosses it onto the shelf with a clang, and then fixes his gaze on me. “Hunter says we need to get downstairs ASAP because breakfast is getting cold.”
“Yeah … I was supposed to make waking you up a quick thing, but …” My cheeks radiate heat, which is the dumbest reaction, considering I just spent a lot of time making out with him and letting him feel my body. But I feel like I’m coming down from a high. A kissing high. A Jaxhigh. “But yeah, anyway.”
Jax’s cheeks flush, as if he’s coming down from some shared high, too. “Are you still okay with what happened?” he asks carefully. “I keep sort of kissing you without asking first.”
How can he be so sweet? He doesn’t look sweet. He looks sexy and dangerous. And that’s what Katie told me—that these guys I’m living with are full of darkness. I guess I can see it. I just haven’t seen it directed toward me yet.
“Technically, the second time we kissed, well, while we were on your bed, I kissed you,” I remind him, tracing one of his scars with the pad of my thumb.
“I know.” He utters the words with an awed glint in his eyes. Then he lifts his hand, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and leans in, kissing me delicately on the lips. “We should get downstairs before Hunter comes up here,” he murmurs, his lips brushing mine. “I don’t want to. I honestly just want to stay right here. But life is waiting for us.”
“You say that like this isn’t life?”
“I honestly don’t feel like it is. I feel like I’m dead, and this is my own personal heaven, created by things I’ve wanted for so many years but never thought I could have.” He sighs softly, his hand falling to his side. “I probably sound crazy, right?”
I shake my head. “I like the way you put things. You always sound so poetic. It makes me wonder about the poems you write.”
A ghost of a smile materializes on his lips. “One day, I’ll let you read some of them, but only if you let me read that one you wrote in class.”
“It’s not very good,” I assure him. “But if you want to read it, you can.”
Surprise flickers in his eyes. “Yeah?”
I shrug. “Sure. You’re the one that inspired me enough to write it.”
His smile broadens, and then he kisses me for like the umpteenth time. “I’m going to get dressed. I’ll see you downstairs.”
“Okay.” I turn to leave, my gaze falling on his scars one final time.
This time, I know he notices me staring at them, and fear flashes in his eyes.
Is that what you’re afraid of, Jax?
Of me seeing your scars?
Of me seeing what the scars have sewn together.
Of what’s bleeding beneath your flesh.
The secrets hidden in the darkest parts of your mind.
Like wilting rose petals dying in the shadows of the light.
I give him a small smile before turning away. Maybe one day, if we get close enough, I’ll ask him. But I can’t yet. Not when I’ve got my own secret-hiding scars.
Once I leave his bedroom, I head toward my own, figuring I can change my clothes while I'm here. As I’m passing the room that Zay is working out in, he happens to be walking out at that moment. He has his shirt off and is dripping sweat, his lean muscles on full display. Asshole or not, he’s hot. I can’t lie about that.
His hands are taped up, too, and a large welt is splattered across his cheek.
I step back from him when we nearly run into each other. “What happened to your cheek?”
He wipes the sweat from his brow. “The punching bag punched back.”
