Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Preston
My phone read after 1:00 a.m. when I finally unlocked the door to my—and now Jax’s—apartment. I winced at the squeaking sound as I pushed it slowly open. I took a step into the apartment, the floor creaking slightly under my weight, and narrowly avoided ramming into an end table in the dark room. Who knew this place was such a noisy deathtrap , I thought, waking up the screen of my phone to cast a slight glow on the room.
I walked into the bathroom, finally turning on a light. The reflection in the mirror showed a tired man in his thirties, with his tie loosened and his overcoat still on against the cold. I started stripping off layers, piling them in the corner of the bathroom where they’d sit until I could safely deal with them in the main room.
After splashing water on my face and brushing my teeth, I turned the lights back off and opened the door. Blinking, I let my eyes adjust to the darkness again, realizing too late that I was about to creep across the apartment in only my boxer briefs. I think I have some pajama bottoms in that middle drawer , I thought, carefully working my way to the dresser.
I slid the drawer out silently and started rifling through the carefully folded clothes, packed a bit tighter than normal now that I had made room for Jax’s clothing. I was just complimenting myself on my ninja skills when a bright light from the direction of the bed made me freeze in my tracks.
“What the actual fuck are you doing? Building a fortress?” I couldn’t make Jax out behind the spotlight coming from her phone.
“I’m looking?—”
“Oh shit. Put some clothes on.” The light fell to the bedcovers.
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” I picked up my own phone from on top of the dresser and turned a light on, spotting the blue and green plaid pattern of the pants in question.
“I mean, in other circumstances, I’d totally take a bite out of that ass. Just so you’re aware that my outburst did not come from a place of repulsion.”
Jax’s voice was muffled, and I looked over to see her arm flung across her face. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Good to know,” I said, pulling the pants on and approaching the bed. “I’m sorry for the free show. I thought you were asleep, and, well, old habits die hard. There hasn’t been anyone to peep on me going to bed for a long time.”
“I wasn’t peeping,” Jax exclaimed, sounding indignant. “You woke me up.”
“And what an enjoyable experience middle-of-the-night Jax has been,” I said, sliding into my side of the bed and running my hip into a pillow Jax had placed there as a barrier.
“What time is it anyway?” Jax asked, the sound of her phone being set on the bookshelf next to her side of the bed mixing with the rustling covers as she got comfortable.
“One forty-five,” I said, unlocking my phone and flipping quickly through the notifications, making sure nothing needed my attention before I went to sleep.
“God, I can’t wait to work for this man too.”
“Honestly, once you start, it’ll be better for both of us. Mitchell agreed to meet with you on Monday, by the way. He said he’ll do the interview, since it would be a conflict of interest for me to hire my fiancée.”
“Well, at least there’s that. Now, please, shut up,” Jax said through a yawn.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, fighting to keep a smile out of my voice, trying not to betray how adorable I found grumpy Jax to be.
I opened the last app I used every night, putting my phone on the charging dock and settling into a comfortable position, my back to Jax.
“Preston?”
“Hmm?”
“What the fuck is that noise?”
“Oh, that’s my brown noise app. I can’t sleep in silence. Is that okay?”
“What would happen if I said no?”
“Well, I’d turn it off and do my best to sleep.”
Jax sighed and said nothing. I interpreted that as her giving in.
“Goodnight, Jax.”
“Goodnight.”
The last thing I heard before I drifted off to sleep, the exhaustion of my body and the familiar sounds of my noise machine app pulling me under quickly, was Jax saying, “I’m never going to sleep with this.”
Several hours later, with light streaming in through the curtains and a warm body plastered to mine, showed just how mistaken she had been.
As my mind came online, I took in how Jax’s body aligned with mine. Her shoulders were flush with my chest, our legs entangled, and her ass pressed against my morning wood.
I angled my hips back first, trying to slide the rest of myself away from the still sleeping woman in my bed. Once again, I failed at keeping Jax asleep.
“Well, I guess that pillow wall didn’t do its damn job,” Jax murmured, her voice deep and raspy from sleep.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I guess we’re both heat seekers.”
“Speak for yourself, Brandt. I’m not a cuddler. Besides, you’re clearly on my side.”
I sat up and looked to my right, seeing she was absolutely correct.
“Well, shit.” I rubbed my hands down my face. The last time I shared a bed regularly . . . well, it surprised me my body didn’t stray further away out of reflex.
“It’s fine,” she said. “An unconscious body action, a fluke. These things are bound to happen in shared space like this. No big deal. Now, what’s for breakfast?”
U nless fluke had another secret meaning, it didn’t apply to our cuddling tendencies. It was not a onetime thing. Jax and I woke up the same way Sunday morning and then again on Monday. That third morning, I managed to extricate myself from the bed without waking her. Likely because it was 5:00 a.m., and I learned over the weekend that my new roommate was not a morning person. I found myself taking yet another freezing cold shower. Something had to give, or I was going to develop frostbite on my dick.
Normally my weekday mornings began with C-SPAN on the television, a few cups of coffee, and sorting emails and tasks to tackle on the day ahead. Adding an extra person in my space meant my routine needed to adjust too. Not something I handled well. I pulled on track pants and a hoodie in a rougher manner than necessary. After checking the temperature outside, I ground my teeth and added a vest and beanie for good measure. I preferred to allow the day to warm up before I experienced it, but new routines called for a few sacrifices.
Deciding to go to the café down the street and grab us some breakfast, I thought perhaps I could still salvage my morning habits and sort through the day ahead. Maybe after work I’d suggest we hammer out a new morning routine that worked for us both.
While sitting in the café, enjoying that first cup of coffee and a cheese and bacon soufflé, the solution to one of our problems struck. Gulping down the dregs of my mug, I unearthed my phone and started searching. After a few minutes of comparing options and reading top reviews, I made a choice and placed my order—miles away from my normal decision-making process, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
I practically skipped back to the apartment, carrying a drink holder with two to-go cups and a bag of chocolate croissants. I kept Jax’s coffee black, not sure what additives were safe for her stomach. At second thought, the buttery, flakey pastries may also be a terrible choice. I made a mental note to find out more about her safe foods. That term popped up a lot on the IBS websites I found myself scrolling last night while I listened to Jax’s even breathing, as sleep evaded me. I dreaded my body betraying me by pulling Jax close while we were both unconscious. If this arrangement was going to work, we needed to enforce clear boundaries, only engaging in intentional physical touch among them.
I found Jax sitting up in bed, looking at her phone, when I reentered the apartment.
“Honey, I’m home,” I said, Jax’s eyes meeting mine at my jovial tone.
“I’m not so sure honey really suits me as a pet name, but if that coffee is for me, you can call me anything you want,” she said, her arms outstretched.
“It is for you. I left it black. I realize I need to get a better handle on your food sensitivities, so I can buy things that work for you.”
I crossed the apartment to hand her the cup, and stood, hovering, not quite sure what to do with myself now that I’d delivered her drink.
Jax waved her hand, dismissing my comment. “Not your problem to worry about. Black is perfect. Coffee, in general, isn’t the best thing for me, but some mornings won’t kick start without it.”
She took a big sip, her eyes closing as she savored the warmth and taste.
“So, what were you up so early for, anyway?”
“Five is usually when I start on work days. Weekends too, sometimes.”
“Gross. I like to pretend there isn’t even one of those in the morning.”
I laughed. “Early bird gets the worm and all that. And anyway, my early morning habits paid off this morning, because I found a solution to one of our problems.”
“We have problems?” she asked, swinging her legs off the bed and padding over to the paper bag I set on the edge of the TV stand.
“I bought a new couch.”
Jax still rustled through the bag, her back to me.
I continued. “You know, so you can have the bed to yourself. I got something new that hasn’t been in my family since Duncan went to college, so I think it should be soft enough to sleep on. Maybe I should have gone to a store to try one out... I’m not often this impulsive, but we need a new couch, so I got one...”
I trailed off when I realized Jax was frozen, her hand in the bag, her back rigid.
“They’re chocolate croissants. Like I said, I need to know more about your food restri?—”
“You got a new couch?”
“Well yeah,” I said, no longer feeling sure of my decision.
“Why?”
“Well, I thought it might be good to have separate spaces to sleep in. You know, so we don’t keep... magnetically joining each night.”
“I see. I didn’t realize it was a big problem for you.” Jax’s voice was like ice. Shit, had I hurt her feelings? She’s the one who put the pillow between us every night. I assumed she wanted boundaries, just like I did.
“I mean, it’s not a problem per se, I just don’t want you to be?—”
“What time did you say my meeting with the senator is today?”
My mind scrambled, trying to keep up with our conversation and understand her reaction to my news.
“It’s at eleven.”
“Got it. Okay, I’m going to go take a shower. I know this is your place, so I don’t have any right to ask, but I’d really appreciate it if you weren’t here when I got out.”
Yep. Definitely pissed. This felt a lot like a fight Spencer told me about when my dad bought a new outdoor patio set without clearing it with Margaret. Did she want to help pick out the new couch? It would stay in my place after... after this was all over.
“Okay...” I said slowly, trying to tread carefully. “If that’s what you want, I can give you some space.”
She nodded, avoiding my eyes. She gathered some clothes out of the drawer and headed toward the bathroom.
“Jax...” I said, trailing off, not sure what I meant to say next. I just didn’t like the idea of us parting like this, even if I’d see her in a few hours.
She avoided my gaze, even as she turned toward me. “Don’t worry. I’ll be the doting fiancée when I see you. I just need a hot shower to wake up. I’m not a morning person after all.” She met my eyes for the first time since I brought up the couch and smiled. The facial movement didn’t reach her eyes.
“Okay, I’ll see you at the Senate staff entrance at 10:45? I’ll meet you there then?”
She nodded and disappeared into the bathroom with a click of the door locking behind her. She felt entirely out of my reach, physically and emotionally. I started getting dressed for the day on autopilot, using water from the sink to fix my hair. I wanted to honor Jax’s request, even when it put me at a disadvantage. I thought getting this couch would be a good thing, but it seems I had a lot more to learn about my fake fiancée than I realized.