8. Jaxon
What the hellwas she doing on my doorstep? How had she found me? How did she get past security downstairs?
Why was even prettier in the light?
How had I missed the freckles across her cheekbones?
I was expecting my pizza delivery, not her when I heard the knock. I’d hung up on Luke because if he heard she was here, I’d never hear the end of it. From the phone buzzing in my hand, he wanted to know what, or rather who, had abruptly ended our call.
Her pretty pink lips opened and closed, her green eyes electric as they scanned over my shirtless chest not once but twice.
Her fist was raised where she had only a moment ago knocked on the door—almost like she was going to knock again.
“Remember me?” She cleared her throat, a rasp to her voice I didn’t remember from that night. She waved and then looked at her hand, her eyes bugging out before she dropped it and closing her eyes, taking a deep breath.
Taking in her features, I noted the panic—from her balled fists, to her stiff posture. She opened her eyes that were noticeably puffy and red-rimmed, her face flushed like she’d been crying. Was it her ex?
I shouldn’t be thinking about it, the desire to protect her, to make the sadness disappear. It wasn’t my job. She wasn’t mine to worry about.
She was just a one-night-stand that I couldn’t shake from my head. A mistake I couldn’t make again.
“Of course, you don’t. I mean, why would you? You’re Jaxon freaking Dexter, and I’m just me.” She was rambling, her voice shaking with each word, and it was fucking adorable. She was all bent out of shape over me.
I wasn’t sure how anyone could forget her. Not with that raven hair, dark as night, and eyes so big and beautiful, she could have any man on their knees with just one look. Staring at her, the desire to bring her into my bedroom surfaced, consequences be damned.
I could let this continue. I would have a few months ago if a one-night-stand showed up at my door. But she was different.
I didn’t want to watch her make a damn fool of herself with all her rambling, as much as I loved hearing her sweet voice. Her eyes were wild with panic and embarrassment.
I wanted to ease her fears. I wanted to be more than a douchebag.
I was tired of breaking hearts. And I really didn’t want to break hers.
“I remember you, Logan. It’s impossible to forget someone as beautiful as you.” Her cheeks were rosy when she snapped her mouth shut and swallowed. I held the door open a little wider, silently inviting her in. When she didn’t move, I couldn’t fight the grin tugging at my lips any longer.
She’s fucking gorgeous.
“Are you goin’ to come in, sweetheart?” Her eyes darted between my bare chest, the door, and the floor. There was a flash of hesitancy before she nodded and walked between me and the door frame.
The rich, intoxicating, vanilla scent of her perfume overwhelmed my senses and clouded my judgment as it tickled my nose and filled the air of my apartment. This was a bad idea.
Closing the door behind her, I watched her, waiting to see what she did. Her eyes roamed around the room briefly, but nothing held her attention. She glanced at the door that led to my bedroom, and I wondered if she was thinking the same thing as me.
Isshe here for more?
Why is she here?
How did she find me?
Just as I was about to ask her intentions, the bell rang, and this time, it was my pizza. The delivery guy handed me the hot box, thanked me for the tip, and left, not a flash of recognition in his gaze.
That was becoming rare these days, and I missed it.
The downside to becoming a famous athlete was the fame that was attached to it. Everyone knew who I was and wanted a piece of me that I wasn’t willing to part with.
“You must think I’m a stalker,” she started, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt—the one I’d been standing here wondering how to get off. “Well, I guess I am. I mean, I found you, right?” She was rambling again.
“I have to admit I’m pretty damn curious, sweetheart.” Placing the hot cardboard box of pizza on the counter, I flipped open the lid. “Hungry?” I looked away from the cheese pizza to see her tongue dart out and lick her lips.
Grabbing two plates from the cabinet, I put two slices on one for her and four for me. Quietly handing her the plate without her confirmation, she smiled, the hint of a dimple appearing in the corner of her mouth.
“Did you hear my stomach?” She blushed, eyes downcast.
“Could hear it outside the door.” She giggled at my lame joke, and damn, if I didn’t like that. I wanted her to laugh at all my jokes.
“Right, of course, you could. How silly of me.” We took a seat at my kitchen counter, where the invitation to my brother’s wedding was sitting.
The invitation I had opened before calling Luke for a Hail Mary. I needed a date.
She glanced at the invitation, her eyes skimming the lines, and then, she smiled. “Your brother?”
I nodded, mouth full of the greasy pizza. Emotion swam in her eyes. She swallowed and then took a small bite from her food.
“You don’t like weddin’s?” I asked, hopping off the barstool to grab a beer from the fridge. “Want one?” She shook her head quickly, so I offered her the only can of soda I had in the fridge, and she nodded.
“Haven’t been to many, honestly. I was hoping I’d be married by now.”
“Me neither. Just my two brothers’. Why aren’t you married?” Sliding the can to her, she snapped it open and took a long sip.
“Starting to think there isn’t someone out there for me. What’s your excuse for the single life?”
“Been too focused on my career. There hasn’t been time for a girl, too. Y’all are high maintenance.” She scoffed.
“That’s insulting. Some of us aren’t high maintenance.”
Grabbing another piece from the box, I offered her the last one remaining, but she shook her head.
“Tell me, sweetheart, would you expect Friday night dates?”
“I wouldn’t expect them, but I would like them.” She held my stare, her eyes sparkling in the bright, kitchen light.
“Alright, so you are the only exception.” I raised my hands defensively before grabbing both our plates. I stuck them in the dishwasher and turned to her. “So, how about you tell me the real reason you showed up on my doorstep tonight?”
She swallowed, looked at the counter, inspected the marble, and said nothing.
“Would you believe me if I said I was a crazy fan?” She cracked a weak smile, her hands shaking. She quickly hid them under the counter, so I slowly shook my head.
“I wish that was the case. If it were, I wouldn’t have just shared my pizza with you.”
“What if I wanted to repeat our night from a few months ago?” She was stalling, so I humored her.
“Then, we’d already be in my bed, sweetheart.” She blushed, something I’d noticed she did a lot of around me. I make her nervous.
“You’re telling me girls actually come by here for that?” Disgust flashed across her face but quickly disappeared.
“The girls don’t usually get past my security downstairs. So, I’m wonderin’ how you did. But that’s somethin’ we can talk about later.” Logan looked away, finding some artwork on my wall pretty damn interesting, her dark hair hiding her expression from me.
There was something different about her. The way her eyes nervously flitted around my place, the smile that seemed perfected, and her eyes that held too much pain for someone so young.
“Logan, is it your ex? Are you in trouble?” I planted both hands on the cold marble and noticed her visibly stiffen, so I relaxed my stance, choosing to lean back on the closed dishwasher and cross my arms over my chest.
“No, he’s gone. Hasn’t reached out to me in a long time, thank God. I wish I hadn’t wasted so much of my time with him.” She looked at me again, and I saw the pain clear as day in her green eyes as they shone with just barely-contained emotion.
Whatever the reason was that she found me, she wasn’t ready to tell me. And I didn’t care. Her presence in the big apartment was welcomed compared to the loneliness I had been struggling with.
Without Luke ten minutes away, I spent a lot of time alone, compared to Florida, where Luke and I spent countless nights in front of my TV playing video games.
My goal of being closer to home hadn’t made sense yet because I had been too goddamn scared to go home and face my father after officially quitting football. Whenever I did go home, I avoided Dad at all costs. But now that they knew, things would get better. They had to.
“So, you know what I do for a livin’. What about you?” I changed the subject, hoping to ease the tension from her body, but it only got worse when her nose scrunched and she burst into tears.
What did I say?
“I’m a—” she cried, tears streaking down her rosy cheeks faster than I could round the counter. I gently placed my hands on her arms, not sure if I should be hugging her or running for the hills. Maybe she’s crazy.
She pressed her face to my chest, her tears hot against my skin. And I knew right then, she wasn’t crazy. She was lost just like me.
“A teacher. I was a teacher,” she cried, and I couldn’t help but thread my fingers through her silky, soft hair.
“What happened, sweetheart?” When she pulled away and looked up at me, her eyes the color of the prettiest emerald I’d ever seen, the breath was sucked straight from my lungs.
“I quit.” She wiped her eyes and jumped from the barstool, taking a step away from me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let my emotions get the best of me. God, I must look like such a fool. It’s just been a couple of hard months, and I…” she paused, running her hands frantically through her hair, “I need to walk. I need air.”
I nodded, sensing the urgency in her movements. I quickly led her to the front door.
“Let’s go. I know a place.”
She followed me silently, and as we exited my building, we saw the first glimpse of the setting sun. I had chosen the building on the outskirts of the city, purely because I hated the city life. I was a country boy through and through. I loved land and animals—everything the city was not.
We walked around to the back of my building, where we crossed the road to a small park. It was the reason I picked this building. I loved walking.
There weren’t many people on the trail at this time of the day, and as the sky got darker, I wondered what was running through Logan’s mind.
I wanted to know more about her.
“I’m sorry for freaking out. You must really think I’m crazy now, huh?” She had stopped at the only water fountain in the park and was bending over for a long drink. When she faced me again, I watched a single droplet of water fall from her pink lips and roll down her chin.
Without thinking, I brushed it away, my thumb making contact with her soft skin. Her hot breath brushed against my hand as she sighed. And just like that, I was stuck back in that moment.
Back on the night we kissed.
And in this moment, I wanted to taste her again. I needed her.
I wanted to be reminded of how good she tasted. I needed to hear her moan my name.