7. Jem
Seven
Jem
W hen dawn seeps through the curtains, I push up onto one elbow with a sigh. After hours spent lying awake, listening to Axel’s steady but alert breathing, I’m pretty sure neither of us slept a wink after Peter broke in last night.
Over and over, I keep replaying the whole thing in my mind. The gleam of that stolen key in the gloom; the shrill sound of pain Peter made when Axel broke his hand. The threats my bodyguard made, and in such a chatty way, like he was making conversation about the weather. He was so strong and confident, seeing off my stalker like he might bat away a fly.
And it worked. There’s no way Peter will come near me again. There’s not a single doubt in my mind: when that jerk clattered down those stairs last night, it was like a whole army was nipping at his heels. That’s what it felt like to me, too—having Axel on my side was like having a whole platoon.
My chest aches and I hang my head, fighting the urge to flop back down on the pillow and drag the blankets up over my head.
Because our time together is slipping away so fast. Then Axel will roar away on his bike and I’ll be alone again, rattling around in this tiny apartment in silence. Eating dinner with the memory of my bodyguard curled around me in that armchair; taking the bus to the market and working my stall all by myself. Using podcasts and audiobooks to feel like I have friends all around.
It’s fine. I’m fine.
I’ve been alone for a long time, and I’m not gonna start being a weenie about it now.
But god… if I could see Axel sometimes… even if I could just text him or call…
When I swing my legs out of bed, I feel queasy, because this isn’t like that. Axel’s not my friend , no matter how easily we get on, no matter how good it felt to have his hands roaming over my bare skin. He’s here because I paid him to be here, and that’s that.
Hoping for more is how you get your heart broken.
“You okay, princess?”
Axel watches me carefully from the rug, sharp-eyed in a way that says he’s been awake this whole time. Maybe that’s a bodyguard thing, or maybe he can’t sleep stretched out on the floor like that, his head pillowed on one bent arm.
“I’m good.” My voice is scratchy from all the night’s excitement. “You?”
Axel grunts, watching as I pick my way across the small room, gather some clothes from the dresser, and shut myself inside the bathroom.
Inside, I brush my teeth, change my clothes, splash some water on my face, then give the mirror a pep talk.
“Be cool about this,” I whisper sternly, pointing a finger at my reflection. I stare back at myself, haggard and pale. “You were only ever going to have him for twenty four hours.”
But every time I think about 3pm ticking closer, my gut churns.
* * *
The market hall is quiet when it first opens for business, with the rattle of metal grates echoing off the brick walls. Vendors open up their stalls, heaving cardboard boxes of stock onto tables and rummaging through, or cursing at their card readers and shaking them like that might help. Over in the corner at Melted Hearts, Axel and I raise the metal grate then slide behind the table, careful not to let our bodies brush.
There’s no mention of what we did last night.
No words shared about Peter.
Nothing.
You’d think the hours since we were last here were completely uneventful. The longer we sit in strained silence behind my stall, the more fidgety I get, plucking at the frayed tablecloth.
“You don’t have to stay,” I blurt at last, flushing with misery to the roots of my hair. These words taste sour on my tongue, but I need to say them, because I can’t spend a whole morning and half the afternoon here, knowing that Axel is counting down the minutes until he can go.
Does he regret what we did together? Does he wish he could take it back?
I grip the edge of the table, feeling woozy.
“What?” Axel looks kinda green around the edges too, turning to face me square on. His dark hair is still damp from the shower. “You want me to go?”
“ No. ” I will never, ever want that, and I don’t have the acting skills to pretend otherwise. Every time I look at the big clock hanging on the market wall and see that 3pm has ticked closer, I want to crawl under the table and weep. “But… Peter’s gone. He was the whole reason I needed a bodyguard. So if you want to end your shift early—”
“I don’t,” Axel clips out. “You paid for the full twenty four hours.”
Yeah, I guess. Drawing my feet up onto my chair, I rest my chin on my knees, feeling so sad and relieved. Even if we spend the rest of the shift in awkward silence, being super careful not to touch each other, even if we have nothing to say and the tension gives me a stomach ache…
I want Axel here.
I always want Axel here. And I’m gonna savor his warmth beside me while it lasts, damn it.
The first few customers spill through the market doors and start browsing along the stalls. They shake out umbrellas and brush silvery raindrops off their coat shoulders, laughing in the hush. A radio seeps music nearby, and the scent of roasted coffee beans is strong.
“What’s your next job?” I ask, hugging my legs. My bare skin peeks through the rips in my jeans, and sometimes I swear Axel glances at those patches out of the corner of his eye. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but either way it makes me bolder, wanting to chat.
“Don’t know yet.” Axel sniffs once, then shifts in his chair, the metal squealing. He’s dressed all in bike leathers again, the leather dotted with rain and creaking whenever he moves, and the whole sensory experience makes me want to fan myself. Those muscles. Holy hell. “I’ll wait for another call from Cerberus.” He slides a look at me, suddenly cautious. “Unless you want to hire me for longer, anyways. You’d get first dibs.”
Ha! If only.
“I did look,” I say, shaking my head and scoffing at myself. Axel will find this funny. “I tried to figure out if I moved some savings around, maybe sold my TV and armchair, if I could afford another day, but…”
I shrug.
Axel stares. He’s not laughing.
“What,” he says flatly, and my smile fades. Okay yeah, maybe it’s not that funny of a thing to admit. Maybe it’s mostly tragic. Crap, why the hell did I tell him that? He knows I’m poor as a church mouse and nursing a pathetic crush, he doesn’t need me to turn it into a punchline.
“Sorry.” Candles thud against the table as I leap to my feet and rearrange them, suddenly desperate for something to do with my hands. “Hey, did you want coffee? Pablo gives the vendors discounts.”
“Jem.”
“Just don’t ask for any kind of flavored syrup or he’ll charge you double as punishment. He’s a coffee purist.”
“ Jem .”
I pause, holding a thick beeswax candle that smells like orange blossom. It’s heavier than it looks, and hey, maybe that’s why my whole body is trembling.
“Is that true?” A big finger hooks in the waistband of my jeans, drawing me close to Axel’s side, and I let him pull me wherever he wants. You’d better believe I let him. “Did you really want to buy another day with me?”
I give a lopsided shrug, because duh. Obviously.
“As your bodyguard?” Axel presses. “Or as more?”
My throat is tight as I swallow, then set the candle down with a dull thump. It’s not where it’s supposed to go, and now the whole table looks messy, but I can’t think straight. Can’t focus beyond the ringing in my ears.
This is where I should be brave. Axel saw off my stalker; I should be able to confess my feelings to him. Right?
But I’m so, so tired of summoning my courage. Not just in this, but in everything. Is life really supposed to be such a battle all the time? Because I’m exhausted, worn so thin, and I’m only in my twenties. When I think about the decades of loneliness and toil ahead, I could lay down and weep.
“Okay,” Axel says, and his deep, rumbly voice is so soothing. “Okay, princess.” He’s rubbing at my hip, drawing me closer so I’m pressed against his side, soaking up his warmth like a sad little sponge. “Why don’t I go first?”
My nod is wobbly. Axel makes a low noise, then tugs me all the way down into his lap, wrapping me up in his arms.
“Well, first off, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen with those big, brandy-colored eyes.”
A bristly mouth kisses my neck, and all at once, I turn to a puddle of goo. The tension bleeds from my muscles, and I’m sprawled on my bodyguard’s lap, panting with relief, because he’s kissing me again. Thank god.
“When you came out of the bathroom in that clingy little top and those booty shorts, I nearly had a heart attack. Never popped a boner so fast in my life.”
I laugh weakly, tilting my head so Axel can drag his mouth along my jaw.
“Second, you’re a fighter. You’ve set up this stall all alone, you’ve provided for yourself and been your own boss, and when Peter the prick—” Axel spits his name like it tastes bad “—caused problems for you, you came up with the solution. That’s a survivor right there. You know how much I respect that, Jem?”
He squeezes me closer and I gasp, squirming in his lap. Thank god there are no customers at this end of the market yet, or we’d be putting on a real show.
“Y-yes,” I say.
“Good.” A scarred hand slips under my sweater, splaying over my bare ribs, and this new hold is so possessive that my belly twists. “Then you know I’m not playing around when I tell you this: you never have to pay for my protection again. You never have to worry about whether you can afford to have someone at your back. Okay? Because I’m there, I’m yours, and whether you want something romantic from me or not—”
Laughing giddily, I spin around on Axel’s lap and kiss him square on the mouth. Of course I want something romantic. I want this man in my bed, my world, my life.
A groan reverberates out of Axel’s chest, tingling into my palms. And he’s kissing me back, hot and whiskery; he’s gripping my hips and grinding me down against his bulge. The sights and sounds and smells of the market fade away, and there’s only the two of us, moaning into each other’s lips, desperate to get closer. Grinding on each other and making a scene.
When we finally break apart, we’re both flushed, breathing hard.
“A day off,” Axel grinds out, urging me up off his lap. “We’re both taking a day off. Come on, let’s close down your stall.”
“Okay, but—”
“I’ll buy every fucking candle on that table if you let me take you home,” Axel says, and he sounds so pained that I burst out laughing. That’s not what I was arguing about, but it’s fun to play along, hemming and hawing as we pack up and pull the metal grate back over Melted Hearts.
“Jem.” Axel catches my hand once we’re standing in front of the closed stall, both still pink-cheeked from all those kisses. “You never have to worry about going hungry again. You know that, right?”
I press my lips together, fighting a smile, and god, I’m so happy I could float up off the ground. Not because of what Axel’s offering me—though I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a huge relief to be on a team for once, rather than a solo player—but because he’s talking about the future. Long term.
“Just now,” I say, “I wasn’t gonna argue about closing down the stall. I was just thinking…”
Axel waits patiently, rearranging our hands so his fingers are knitted with mine.
“I was thinking maybe we could go to your place instead. If it’s nearby.” My heart knocks against my ribs, but I do it, I take the leap of faith and trust that my bodyguard will catch me. “Only, you’ve seen my bed. That thing wouldn’t last the day.”
Axel barks out a laugh, rough and pleased.
“Yeah,” he says, tugging me along the rows of stalls toward the market doorway. “Yeah, we’ll go to mine. And if you like it, princess, you never have to leave.”