Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
BELLA
The smell of bacon pulls me out of my sleep. Then coffee. Then something sweet—pancakes? My stomach grumbles, but my head pounds in response, reminding me of the very questionable amount of drinks I had last night.
I groan, rolling over, only to wince when my legs protest. Yep. Definitely overdid it last night.
That’s when I see it—a glass of water and two pain relievers sitting on the nightstand, like some kind of post-drunk care package.
Jax.
I grab the water, swallow the pills, and force myself to sit up, blinking against the sunlight filtering through the curtains. My whole body aches, and my voice is probably gone from singing, screaming, and, well… everything else.
I drag myself out of bed, legs heavy as I shuffle toward the bathroom. One look in the mirror stops me cold.
“Oh, no.”
My hair is a disaster—a full-on tangled mess, like I got into a fight with a wind tunnel and lost. Mascara smudges under my eyes, my lips are swollen, and there’s a very visible beard burn on my neck.
Fantastic.
I pull my hair into a messy bun, splash cold water on my face, and scrub off the remnants of last night’s makeup. Once I look somewhat presentable, I finally make my way toward the kitchen, following the sound of clinking dishes and low music.
And then I see him.
Jax.
Standing at the stove, barefoot, shirtless, wearing only a pair of gray sweats that hang dangerously low on his hips. One hand grips a coffee cup while the other flips bacon in the pan. Tattoos flex with every movement, the morning light hitting just right, and I actually pause for a second, debating if I should just crawl back into bed and drag him with me.
He looks up, catches me staring, and grins.
“Well, look who finally crawled out of bed.” He takes a slow sip of coffee, eyes gleaming with amusement. “How’s our reigning Queen of Perdition doing this morning?”
I blink. Queen of Perdition?
Jax smirks. “Queen of bar dances, tequila shots, and making half the damn club forget their own names.”
My stomach drops. “Oh God.”
“Oh God, Jax, actually,” he corrects, setting down his mug. “Because that’s what you were saying last night.”
I groan and cover my face. “Nope. I refuse to acknowledge any of this.”
Jax leans against the counter, crossing his arms. “Oh, we’re acknowledging it, baby. You put on a damn show last night. Strutted around like you owned the place. Drove me so fucking crazy I had to throw you over my shoulder just to get you out of there before I lost my damn mind.”
I peek at him through my fingers, fully mortified. “I hate you.”
“You love me,” he counters easily, grabbing a plate. “But we’ll let you come to terms with that in your own time.”
I pull out a stool at the island and sit, watching as he dishes up bacon and eggs like he didn’t just ruin my life with that recap.
“You really made breakfast?” I ask, suspicious.
Jax smirks, setting a plate in front of me. “Figured you’d need something solid after last night. Thought about just feeding you bacon in bed, but then I remembered how much energy you burned.”
I groan, dropping my forehead onto the counter. “I am never drinking again.”
Jax laughs, sliding onto the stool next to me. “Yeah, sure. I’ll remind you of that next time you’re three glasses deep and trying to convince me to dance to ‘Wannabe’ with you.”
I lift my head just enough to glare at him. “I’m going to die of embarrassment.”
“Nah.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to my temple. “You’re going to eat, recover, and then maybe sit on my lap for a while.”
We’re sitting at the bar, eating breakfast, the quiet hum of the coffee maker and the occasional clink of silverware against plates filling the space. It’s comfortable— easy —but there’s something about the way Jax keeps shifting in his seat, like he’s got something sitting heavy on his chest.
Then he clears his throat.
I glance up from my plate. “What’s up?”
He hesitates for half a second, gripping his coffee mug like he’s about to say something real . “I need to talk to you about something.”
I set my fork down, my stomach flipping. “Okay…” I say slowly. “That sounds serious.”
He exhales, like he’s trying to find the right words. “I want you to think about moving in with me.”
I blink. Did I hear that right?
I sit there, processing, while Jax keeps talking. “I know it’s only been a couple of months, but I’m all in, Bella. I don’t want to rush you, but damn, baby, I love waking up next to you. I want that every day.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“We’re already together most nights anyway,” he says, watching me closely. “And when we’re at your place, I always have to leave early to check on Oreo. Feels like we’re wasting time going back and forth when we both know what we want.”
I shift in my seat, processing .
I love my place. It’s mine, my own space. I worked hard for it. But am I attached to it?
Jax studies me, then leans in, voice lower, more patient. “I’m not saying you have to get rid of your place right now. Keep it. Give it a trial run, stay with me for a while, and see how it feels. If it doesn’t work, no pressure, you go back. But if it does? You can sell it, rent it—do whatever the hell you want.”
His fingers brush against mine on the counter, grounding me.
“I just know what I want,” he murmurs. “And that’s you.”
My chest tightens.
God, this man.
I lick my lips, trying to gather my thoughts. “You really think we’re ready for this?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “I was ready the second I met you.”
I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. “You’re crazy.”
He smirks. “For you? Yeah.”
I chew on my bottom lip, my pulse racing.
I know what my answer is.
And I know once I say it, there’s no going back.
I take a deep breath, my heart hammering as I stare at him. There’s no hesitation in his eyes—just confidence, warmth, and something deeper that makes my stomach flip.
Then I smile. Screw it.
“Okay.”
Jax’s eyes lock onto mine, his grip on his coffee mug tightening like he wasn’t expecting me to agree so easily.
“I’ll move in with you,” I say, the words feeling more right than anything I’ve ever said.
A slow grin spreads across his face before he sets his coffee down, cups my face in his hands, and kisses me hard. “Hell yeah.”
I laugh against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulls me flush against him. His excitement is contagious, and I can’t stop smiling.
“Damn, baby,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to my lips, then my jaw, then my neck. “You just made my whole fucking day.”
I roll my eyes but can’t stop the warmth spreading through me. “It’s 7 a.m. ”
“Exactly,” he smirks. “That means I’ve got the rest of the day to celebrate.”
I shove at his chest, laughing. “We still have to figure out logistics. I can’t just abandon my place overnight.”
Jax leans back, nodding like he’s already considered all of it. “I know. Like I said, we’ll take it one step at a time. You keep your place for now. See how it goes. If you need space, you have space.”
I bite my lip, my mind racing. “And if it doesn’t work?”
His expression darkens, but not in a bad way. Just intense . Like that’s not even an option.
“It’s going to work,” he says, voice sure and steady. “Because you’re mine, and I take care of what’s mine.”
That sends a shiver down my spine.
Jax watches me for a beat, then smirks. “Now hurry up and eat, woman. I got plans for the rest of my morning with my live-in old lady.”
I groan, shaking my head as I pick up my fork. “You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely,” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
He pushes back from the counter and stands, grabbing his keys like we’re already on the move. “Good. I’ll drop you off, then I’ll go grab some boxes.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Jesus, Jax, you don’t waste any time, do you?”
“Nope.” He smirks, walking over and pulling me between his legs. “I figure the sooner you’re settled in, the sooner you realize you don’t want to leave.”
I roll my eyes, but my chest feels warm, and my fingers slide up his chest. “We don’t need to move everything today,” I say. “Just the essentials.”
He nods, his hands sliding down to grip my hips. “We’ll figure it all out.”
I tilt my head up, searching his face. “You sure about this?”
His expression turns serious, eyes dark, focused, steady. “Bella, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
I swallow hard, feeling that weight of certainty settle between us. Okay then.
I smirk, reaching up to brush my lips over his. “You better not regret this.”
Jax growls, gripping my ass and pulling me against him. “Only regret I got is not doing this sooner.”
The second I step into my townhouse, a wave of panic slams into me.
Shit.
Did I just make a huge mistake?
I stand in the middle of my living room, staring at everything I’ve built here—my furniture, my pictures, my space —and suddenly, the idea of packing it all up feels like way too much. Like I’m about to lose something important.
Without thinking, I yank my phone out of my pocket and call Brooke.
She answers on the second ring, all too chipper for this hour. “Good morning, sweet sister. What are you doing up so early?”
“I have to tell you something, but I need to get Bri in on this call.”
Brooke hums like she already knows this is about to be a thing , and a second later, Bri’s groggy voice joins in. “What the hell are you calling this early for?” she grumbles.
I don’t even hesitate. “I think I did something bad.”
Silence.
Brooke’s voice is calmer when she speaks. “What happened?”
“Jax asked me to move in with him.”
Bri yawns. “And?”
“And I said yes .”
Brooke snorts. “Okay… still not seeing the problem?”
I spin in a circle, taking in my fully furnished home, my shelves filled with books, my couch with the perfect groove from my body over the last few years. “He wants me to start moving in today. He just dropped me off, went to get boxes, and now I’m standing here wondering what the hell I just got myself into.”
Bri hums in thought. “Damn. That is fast.”
Brooke cuts in, “Hold on, sis. You’re freaking the hell out, which is understandable. This is a big thing , but are you sure it’s a mistake ?”
I rub my temples. “I don’t know ! What if it doesn’t work out? Then I have to move again, and—” I bite my lip, staring at the pictures on my wall—me and my sisters, me and my parents before they passed, all the little pieces of my life that make this place mine .
“What if I’m giving up too much?” I whisper.
Bri is more awake now. “Are you really giving up anything, though?”
“I don’t know,” I say, voice small. “I love my home. It’s mine . It’s safe. It’s comfortable.”
Brooke’s voice is softer now. “And is Jax safe?”
That question hits me straight in the chest.
I don’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
“Is he comfortable?” she adds.
I think about waking up next to him, how it feels to be wrapped in his arms, how the world seems a little less harsh when he’s around. “Yes.”
Bri sighs dramatically. “Then what’s the problem? Bella, you love this guy.”
My stomach flips. Love. Yeah, I do.
Brooke lets out a laugh. “Sounds to me like you just needed to panic for a second before realizing you want this.”
I exhale sharply, rubbing a hand over my face. “Maybe.”
Bri hums. “There’s no maybe about it. You want to move in with him, you’re just scared of what happens next.”
I swallow. “And what if next is bad?”
Brooke doesn’t hesitate. “Then you deal with it. But what if next is the best thing that’s ever happened to you?”
My heart clenches, and I let out a long breath.
Bri’s voice turns smug. “You do realize he’s going to walk in there any second with boxes, right?”
I groan. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“Then you better figure your shit out fast ,” Brooke teases.
I let out a nervous laugh. “Thanks, guys.”
Brooke grins. “That’s what we’re here for. Now go pack your shit and move in with your man.”
I hang up, staring at my townhouse for a few seconds longer.
Then I take a deep breath and get to work.
I hear Jax’s truck before I see it, the deep rumble rolling up the street before he parks in my driveway. My stomach twists, nerves tingling with excitement. This is real. This is happening.
The door swings open, and Jax steps inside, carrying a stack of flattened boxes. He sets them down near the couch, dusting off his hands before reaching into his pocket.
“Got you something,” he says, holding out a small box.
I take it, my brows pulling together as I open the lid.
Inside is a simple metal keychain—a tiny house with the words Home Sweet Home engraved on it. Attached to it? A silver key.
I stare at it, my throat tightening. “Jax…”
He shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. “For the house.”
For our house.
Whatever lingering doubts I had vanish. I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, my feet lifting off the ground. He catches me easily, hands gripping my waist like he was waiting for this.
“Thank you,” I murmur against his skin, voice thick with emotion.
He laughs, squeezing me tight. “Yeah, baby,” he says, his voice rough with something real. “You’re home now.”