Chapter 17 Definitely Not Regretting It #2
“You sure?” She advances on me, tank top clinging to every line of muscle. “Because from where I was standing, what you did was get me worked up, use my body to pry at my feelings, then pull away when you didn't get what you wanted how you wanted.”
“That’s… not wrong.” The admission tastes bitter on the way out, but I don’t take it back.
Her brows shoot up, surprise flickering into pure sarcasm. “Wow. Admittance.” She gives me a slow little nod, like she’s approving a toddler’s first apology. “That’s some personal growth there.”
“It was also me trying not to fuck you against your toolbox,” I snap back, heat flashing up my neck, “without you actually saying you wanted me. Excuse me for wanting you to say it out loud once in your life.”
“I did say it.” She crosses her arms, chin lifting in defiance even as something guarded tightens around her eyes. “Just not to you.”
“Trust me.” I mutter it, jaw set, because that’s the part that’s been living in my head rent free. “I noticed.”
Her jaw flexes, irritation cutting through the air. “You jealous, Jax?”
“I’m losing my mind, Raine.” The words come out rougher than I mean them to, and I hate that it still sounds too honest. “Theo gets texts. Elias gets updates. I get radio silence.” My laugh turns on edge, more bitter than funny.
“You sleep with him, you lean on Elias, and I’m on the outside again.
Some clown you wheel out when you want jokes and chaos, then pack away when you want anything real. ”
I tell myself I’m angry because angry is easy. It’s clean. Admitting how much it stings to watch her choose everyone else for the parts of her that actually matter is hard.
“You think I didn’t spend three days wanting to crawl out of my own skin because of what you did in that garage?
” She fires back fast, eyes bright with heat and hurt.
“You think it didn’t fuck me up that you got me that close and then let go just so you could prove a point?
” Her voice tightens. “You think I’m mad? ”
“Yes.” I don’t even hesitate. It's the only explanation that makes sense. “That’s exactly what I think.” My jaw clenches hard enough to ache. “Because if you weren’t mad, you’d be talking to me.”
She storms the last step between us and shoves my chest. I take it without moving. I can take the shove. I can take worse. What I can’t take is her looking through me like I’m nothing.
“You’re not owed my talking.” The growl in her voice is pure warning. “Or my forgiveness. Or my time. Or my body.”
“I know.” My hands flex at my sides, restraint digging in like a splinter. “But I’m not walking away without hearing you say you don’t want me.”
Her eyes go flat, almost lethal. “What?”
The question lands, and something reckless in me stands up. I’m tired of guessing. I’m tired of doing the math on every glance and every silence and calling it foreplay.
“You want me to leave?” I ask, voice too calm for how hard my pulse is hitting.
“Fine.” I lift my chin, forcing her to meet my eyes.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t think about it.
Tell me you don’t replay it. Tell me you don’t remember how close you were.
” My throat tightens, and I push anyway.
“Tell me you don’t wonder what it would’ve been like if I hadn’t stopped. ”
Her nostrils flare.
“Say it.” I step closer, not touching her, making her hold the space with me. “Say you don’t want me.”
“Fuck you.” She snaps it out, anger flashing hard enough to hide whatever’s underneath.
“That’s not ‘I don’t want you.’” The answer slips out immediately, and I hate the hope baked into it.
She shoves me again, harder, but this time I catch her wrists on instinct.
Not to trap her. Not to hurt her. Just to stop the hit before it turns into something we can’t walk back.
She jerks against my grip, testing me, and my body wants to clamp down, wants to win.
Instead, I clamp that down and hold, steady enough to make a point without having her feel cornered.
My hands stay firm, not crushing. My breathing stays controlled even while everything in me is burning.
“Let go.” She bites it out, eyes locked on mine in frustration.
“Say it.” I keep my voice low, almost quiet. If I get louder, I’m going to beg, and I refuse to do that. “Say you don’t want me.”
I'm dying here, Sunshine. Please.
Her breathing’s gone shallow, adrenaline mixing with something else, and I feel it in the way her wrists tense under my hands.
“I slept with Theo.” She throws it at me like a grenade, baiting me, maybe trying to hurt me. “You lose. Game over.”
My throat tightens so hard it almost hurts to swallow. The jealousy hits first, then guilt comes right behind it. I don’t get to act wronged. I don’t get to pretend I didn’t light the fuse.
“I know.” The words scrape out anyway. “I’m not mad at you for that.” I drag in a breath, forcing it through my ribs. “I’m mad at myself for giving you every reason not to choose me first.”
“Congratulations.” Her mouth twists, bitter and unimpressed. “You figured it out.”
“I also know,” I push on, unable to stop now.
“If you didn’t want me, you wouldn’t be this pissed.
You’d be indifferent. You’d shrug. You’d laugh me off.
But you’re furious, and you don’t get that angry over someone you don’t care about.
” Her eyes flash like I’ve struck a nerve.
“And if you tell me that’s bullshit, I’m going to call you a liar. And we both know I’ll be right.”
She stares at me for a long second, heat and panic and pride all colliding behind her eyes. Then she rips one wrist free and swings. It’s not full force. She could crack ribs if it was. But her fist still lands solid against my chest.
“You’re such a self-satisfied asshole.” The insult comes out with the second hit, lower this time, like she’s trying to knock the certainty out of me. “You think you know me.”
“I do know you.” The answer leaves me without hesitation, and I hate that it sounds confident, as if confidence makes any of this better.
“You know the parts I let you see.” Her voice sharpens as she steps into it, anger giving her somewhere to stand.
“You let me see more than you think.”
“That’s the problem,” she snaps, eyes going even brighter. “You think you’re inside my head, so you get to make choices for me. Like you deciding I had to say something before I got to finish. Like you punishing me because I wasn’t ready to say it to you.”
Something in me snaps, dropping her wrist and stepping in, crowding her space, until her back hits the wall. My palms plant on either side of her head, needing her to stay, needing her to listen.
“Yeah,” I say, low and full of regret, letting my grin die where it should.
“I punished you. I pushed, because I wanted the words. I wanted you to admit you wanted me. And it was fucked up.” I swallow, forcing myself to hold her gaze.
“I know that, and I can promise you I’ve been regretting it every day since.
I’m not used to this, Raine. To fight so hard and still not know where I stand. I’m sorry. I really am.”
She glares up at me, chest going like she’s still mid-round, and I can practically hear her trying to decide whether to hit me again or bite my head off with words.
“Do you regret it?” She spits it out.
“Yes.” I don’t even have to think about that part.
“Which part?”
“All of it.” It comes out quiet, and it’s the truth that’s been chewing on me for days.
“But I don’t regret wanting you to say it.
” The words come out softer than I mean them to, and that’s probably the most dangerous thing I’ve done all night.
“I don’t regret wanting you to want me, Raine. I’m not sorry for that.”
The silence that follows is loud enough to ring in my ears. The space between our mouths is stupidly small, and I hate that I want to close it right now.
“Say you don’t want me.” My voice drops low, like it’s a dare and a plea all at once. “I’ll unlock the door, walk out, and not come back unless you ask.”
Her throat works hard, fighting whatever she’s refusing to feel.
“I hate you,” she whispers, but her eyes tell me otherwise.
“Liar.”
Her hands fist in my shirt and she yanks me down, crashing her mouth into mine.
The kiss is a car crash. Nothing but teeth, anger, and desperation.
She bites my lower lip hard enough to make me groan, then drags me closer.
I press into her, caging her between the wall and my body, one hand sliding to her waist.
She tastes like sweat and adrenaline and stubbornness.
It’s perfect.
She breaks away on a gasp, eyes wild and mouth still chasing mine. “This is a bad idea.”
“Absolutely.” The agreement comes easy as I nip at her jaw, needing more. I need it all. “The worst idea.”
“We shouldn’t.” She tries for firm, but her voice keeps betraying her.
“Tell me to stop.” I let my mouth brush her pulse when I say it, giving her an out I hope she doesn’t take. “Mean it, and I’ll stop.”
Her fingers twist tighter in my shirt without a word.
“Jax.” My name lands as a warning.
“Yeah, Sunshine?” I can’t help it. The nickname slips out with a grin I shouldn't have on.
“Either kiss me again or get out.”
A laugh hums against her skin, way too pleased for my own good. “You always were good at giving orders.”
And so I obey. I crush my mouth to hers, deeper this time. She opens for me, meeting me tongue for tongue, giving as good as she gets. My hands slide under the hem of her tank, finding hot, slick skin. She shudders when my fingers graze the small of her back.
She drags her tank top off in one rough motion. I get my hands on bare ribs, bare shoulders, the hot slope of her back. My hoodie and shirt hit the floor somewhere in the chaos.
“You’re still an asshole,” she mutters against my mouth, unwilling to break away fully.