22. Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jax
When I woke up this morning, I swear I felt like a whole new person.
I’ve probably said that every morning for the past week, but it’s true. I actually wake up ready for the day now instead of dragging my feet through every little thing we have to do that day. Even the shit I don’t want to do, I’m just… excited .
But the thing I’ve started looking forward to most? Is waking up with her on top of me.
Allie is sprawled out across my chest like she’s trying to hold me in place. Just like every time we’re together. It’s like she’s afraid I’m going to slip out the second I open my eyes.
What she doesn’t understand yet is… I couldn’t leave. Even if I tried.
Not just in the mornings, or after we’ve had each other so much we’re both slick with sweat, hearts racing so erratically that I’m convinced mine’s about to burst through my chest.
I want to stay like this. With her pressed up against me, and not just in the physical sense, although yeah, that’s a hell of a bonus. But it’s more than that now. What started as just blowing off steam… is quickly turning into something bigger—at least for me it is.
I knew it last night with the way she let me grieve—just let me be —and I didn’t feel like I had to apologize for it.
Growing up, it was always a game of tug-of-war between my mum telling me it was okay to show my emotions, and my dad? He’d just call me a pussy and tell me to man up. So guess who I listened to? I always figured he knew what he was talking about since he was the man of the house.
Spoiler: he didn’t have a fucking clue.
And now, here I am, fully grown and still bottling everything up. Not even on purpose, really, it just happens now like second nature.
The sun hits the window just right, cutting across the bed and landing directly in Allie’s eyes before I can even think to shield her from it. But it’s too late since she’s already stirring against me.
When she turns her head, her hair brushes across my arm, and she blinks up at me, still half asleep.
“Good morning,” I murmur.
She smiles. “Good morning, yourself,” she says, her voice still thick with sleep.
It’s funny; I never thought I’d be the type to find someone’s morning voice attractive. Yet here I am, wanting nothing more than to hear her talk in that low, lazy tone of hers.
“What time is it?” she asks, lifting her head to peer around the room before giving up and lying back down.
I chuckle softly, reaching over to smooth her hair down. “Barely seven. I have an alarm set, just in case.”
“Did I wake you again?”
I shake my head, smiling. “No, not at all. Just woke up when the sun did,” I say, shrugging.
Her arms slip between my back and the mattress, pulling me closer while she sinks her face into my stomach.
“Can we just tell Ana and Nora I’ve been kidnapped?” She groans.
I chuckle and wrap my arms around her back, squeezing gently. “Only if I somehow got kidnapped too.”
“That would be a story to tell,” she says with a laugh. “A random van shows up with a million romance novels, wine, and endless guitars. How could we possibly say no?”
Honestly? I know I couldn’t say no to that. Stick me in a van with a guitar and Allie alone, and I wouldn’t ever want to leave. I can imagine her beside me, feet propped up on the dash, hair flipping in the wind from the open window while driving to our next destination on tour.
But then reality hits, and the dream crashes when I realize we have maybe two weeks left together.
That’s it.
“It’s crazy to think that by this time next year, you’ll be touring around the country,” she says quietly. There’s something in her tone, almost like sadness, that catches me off guard.
I blow out a slow breath, nodding. “Yeah. It’s wild to think about.”
“Are you excited?”
I smile. “Very. I mean, nervous too, but you know.”
“I can’t imagine being up on stage like that. I’m nervous just being in the crowd, never mind having all those eyes on me.”
“Well, when you say it like that,” I say low, holding back a laugh.
She quickly lifts her head, meeting my eyes before scanning my face and easily catching me holding it back. Then she swats my chest before lying back down.
“I’m just saying,” she says, readjusting her head until she’s comfortable. “I mean, it’s crazy in the crowd. I know someone who got hit in the face so hard, they ended up with a sinus infection from it.”
“Jesus,” I breathe out. “A sinus infection from a blow to the face like that could kill you.”
She nods. “Yeah, they said their doctor yelled at them and told them no more concerts.”
“Did they listen?”
She chuckles. “No, of course not.”
I look down at her, trying to get her to meet my eyes, but instead I catch her biting back a smile.
“Let me guess, this friend was actually you ?”
She laughs loudly, the sound like music to my ears.
“Does that sound like something I would do?” she asks, pretending to be offended.
I smirk. “Well, considering—”
“Alright, I’ve heard enough,” she giggles and inches her way up my chest before gently pressing her lips to mine, silencing me in the best way possible.
When she pulls back, her eyes meet mine. Those shining, blue irises lock on mine, and in that second, I swear I can feel myself free-falling.
Falling into what though? That’s the part I’ll keep bottled up.
Not naming it and not labeling any feelings. Because I know how this ends, and it’s going to hurt like hell.
And if I tell her how I really feel? It’ll just drag her down with me, and that’s the last thing I want for her.
I bend down and press my lips against hers again, this time keeping them there. She hums a laugh against my lips, the vibration pulling a smile from my mouth while they’re still pressed to hers.
And then the shrill alarm from my phone cuts through the silence, ripping the moment right out from under us. A sound I’ve come to fucking hate every morning now.
Because it means we have to go back.
Back to our everyday lives.
Back to this being a secret.
Back to hiding.
And for me—back to the quiet kind of wallowing that only ends when I see her again.
We text back and forth like crazy, sure. But it’s not the same as watching her smile slowly take over her face when I say something stupid, or when she swats my arm when I tease her just a little too much.
She groans softly against my mouth, and not in the way I want. It’s the kind of sound that says she doesn’t want to go . That she wants to stay here tangled up with me in this bed all day long.
That’s how it’s been almost every night for the past week. We have sex, yeah, but then we just talk . About anything and everything until one of us drifts off to sleep.
Then morning hits, and we’re yanked back into the real world.
Rushing to get dressed.
Rushing to pretend none of this is happening.
And I can tell in the way that she lingers longer each time how much she’s starting to hate this just as much as I do.
But what else are we supposed to do? Our lives are on completely different tracks, pulling us in opposite directions. Neither of us can just drop everything to chase something based on a maybe. We both have careers tugging at us from both sides, plus she’s got her kids to think about—her real life.
The feeling of the mattress shifting beneath me pulls me from my thoughts. My eyes land on Allie, and I watch her snap her bra into place and have to literally hold myself back from reaching out and pulling her body against me. Because I know if I asked… she would stay.
She’d press her skin against mine without a second thought.
And that’s exactly why I can’t ask.
I refuse to be the reason her world shifts. Not when she already has so much going on in her life between Trevor being a dickbag with not allowing Allie to call her daughters when she wants to, and her hiding something from her two closest friends.
That’d just be selfish.
She stands from the bed and glances at me over her shoulder, giving me a weak, half smile.
“Will I see you tonight?”
I press my lips into a thin line and nod. “You sure will.”
“Promise?” she asks—and god, the tone in her voice kills me. Sadness clings to her words, and it makes me wish there was something I could do to make this easier—but there just isn’t.
I hold up my pinky, forcing a smirk. “Pinky promise.”
Her brow lifts, and the corner of her mouth twitches up into the smallest hint of a smile. Then she steps closer, hooks her pinky around mine, and I quickly tug her back onto the bed.
“Ah! Jax—”
I crash my mouth into hers, swallowing the rest of her words before they can leave her lips. When we pull apart, I lock eyes with her, watching as they flutter back open.
“Promise,” I murmur, a bigger smirk tugging at my lips.
Her smile widens, and she lifts herself off the bed, turning to grab her top from the floor. My eyes land square on her ass, and before I can think, I give her a playful swat.
She whirls around, jaw dropped. “Jax!”
I grin. “See you tonight, Al.”
She smiles, shaking her head. “See you tonight, Jax.”