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Should I be? Should I give Dax another chance?
I let out a big sigh then move to the bed. I slip under the sheets and hug a pillow to my chest. As I stare at the ceiling, I think about the reasons why I shouldn’t.
Dax hurt me. He left me. He didn’t confide in me. He didn’t listen to me. That’s all in the past, though. Should I let it get in the way of the future?
So what if he left? People leave all the time, and some come back. Dax came back. So what if he hurt me? Wounds heal. If no one ever got hurt, no one would ever learn anything. I’ve learned to be strong. I am stronger now. I’m no longer hurting. I’m just… lonely.
If people who get hurt are allowed to heal and allowed to become stronger, then people who make mistakes should also be allowed to learn not to make the same mistake again, to be better.
Dax deserves a second chance, especially since he’s asking for it. Should I give him one? I realize I want to. I miss him. I can admit as much. I miss having someone who isn’t part of my family but chooses to be there for me, someone who excites me and inspires me.
There’s only one thing holding me back. Fear.
I’m afraid Dax is going to leave me again, especially when he finds out that I’m not really working at NASA. I should tell him, I know. I’m a hypocrite for getting mad at him for keeping things from me when I’m keeping things from him right now. But I’m scared. Right now, he’s still mine. I’m still the Jenna he used to know and love. That could change. And then I’ll really lose him.
I press the pillow against my face.
God, I’m such a hypocrite. Here I am wondering if I should take Dax back when I’m already scared to lose him. I don’t need to take him back. I never let him go.
Yes, he told me not to wait for him, but I’ve been doing that anyway. I didn’t want to admit it, but I couldn’t help but keep hoping. I never stopped loving him.
So admit it. Confess. Dax has been honest. He’s torn down his walls to let me in. I should do the same. First, I’ll be honest with myself and take what I want. Then I’ll be honest with Dax and tell him everything.
Everything.
I go to the bathroom to change and freshen up. I leave my glasses off, depositing them next to the sink. Then I walk over to Dax’s room. After the second knock, he opens the door.
“Jenna.” He seems surprised.
Was he expecting me to lock myself in my room forever?
“Did you lose your glasses?” he asks. “Are they broken?”
“No.”
Now he looks confused.
“Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Because I can go fix – ”
“Dax,” I cut him off.
“Yes?”
Now I have his attention. Good.
“Just shut up and kiss me,” I tell him.
His eyebrows arch. “Jenna, if – ”
I grab the front of Dax’s shirt and lean forward to give him a kiss. A quick but firm kiss. Then I pull away.
He gives me a puzzled look. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
I nod. “Everyone messes up, right? Everyone deserves a second chance. Even you. Now, do you want that chance or not?”
Dax’s lips curve into a smile. Not a grin. A smile.
Then he cradles my face and presses those lips against mine. Just firmly at first, like how I kissed him. Then hungrily.
I find my head falling back, reeling from his kisses. I can barely steal a breath in between the moments his lips crush mine. And with each kiss, I feel the time we spent apart melting away. My heart pounds in my chest. As heat flows through my veins, my body, which has seemed frozen until now, comes back to life.
Damn, I missed this.
Dax pulls me in and closes the door. He pins me against it and I wrap my hands around the back of his neck. His tongue slips past my lips. It rubs against mine and the friction starts a fire in my mouth that spreads down to my breasts, to my belly and to that part of my body between my legs. That part that still knows only him and which, like a volcano, has been dormant for a year. Now, it comes to life, sending heat coursing through my veins like lava. Just the anticipation of the explosion sends shivers down my spine.
I grip Dax’s hair and let my tongue play with his. His hands slide over my arms and caress my shoulders. His fingers travel across my sides over my shirt. Then his palm presses against my breast. His thumb brushes against my nipple.
Even through the layers of fabric, my body reacts to his touch. My breast swells.
