31. JAXON
31
JAXON
Trip seems hell-bent on being a colossal dick tonight. I watch one person after another lift their shot glass to their lips and down the alcohol provided. Rya swivels, facing me with her lip caught between her teeth.
“Cheers?” she says with a hint of question in her voice and a glance over my shoulder—and I’d be an idiot if I didn’t understand that her eyes have been drawn to Logan where he and Levi are seated. There’s also no denying she’s uncomfortable. It’s all due to her friend watching her with disapproving eyes. I’d actually been surprised when she hadn’t pulled her hand from mine the second she saw him, but she hadn’t. She’s clung to me like a lifeline. Because she’s mine. Not yours. A possessive growl rumbles inside my chest where only I can hear it.
Out of nowhere, the truth smacks me upside the head. I need this girl for more than revenge. Being with her this past week has filled some of the fractures inside me. Rya is quickly becoming someone I’d do almost anything for.
I’m betting that’s not going to go over well with Logan. From the looks of it, simply seeing the two of us together has him stewing. And I don’t know if it’s the loss of Rya that is his only issue. I scrape my teeth over my lip, chewing on it for a moment as the thought forms in my head. Logan can’t disguise—not from me, anyway—the way his eyes slowly roam over me. The hard swallow down his corded throat. The grinding of his jaw. When his cheeks pick up a reddish hue, I have my answer. He’s thinking of the groans and sweat and our bodies hot and hard against each other.
Recognizing I’ve been caught up in the dizzying memory, I bring my hand to Rya’s chin, tucking a few fingers under it so she’ll look at me. For a split second, I glance over at Logan and, in order to save myself from my own thoughts, I focus on how to make him hurt. Whispering softly, I seek to reassure her and irritate him all at once. I tilt her face and touch her lips with mine, knowing Logan is watching. How’s it feel to not have either of us? “You’re okay, Rya. We’ll do this. According to his fucking stupid rules, two shots. Then I’ll take the rest. And lots of water when we’re done. ”
She releases a pent-up breath, her green eyes searching mine. “You’d do that for me?”
I nod. “There’s no way I’ll have to drink more than the night of our run-in with that fifth of rum.” A blush washes over her face, and it’s so fucking beautiful, I begin to hope I get locked into a closet with her for this stupid fucking game. “Besides, I will gladly take one for the team if it means I don’t have to clean you up after going Exorcist on me again.”
Her lips tremble, but she smiles, swatting at my chest, then clinks her glass to mine, and we both toss the shots back. The vodka goes down easy.
“This is some good shit,” says Hazel, voicing my exact thoughts. “Not a problem, I could drink more.”
“Okay, here we go,” Trip calls out. “Our first pairing is Steven and Annabeth.” The entire group scans the room until two people step awkwardly forward. It’s clear they don’t know each other, but our host wastes no time handing over an envelope to them. The girl opens it, and it’s easy to see, even in the dim lighting of the room, she’s embarrassed. She hands it off to her newly appointed partner, and his eyes bug out.
“Yeah, okay,” he manages to stammer before Trip intervenes again.
“Our next two victims”—he rummages in the bowl, pulling out two additional slips of paper—“are Hazel… ”
“Eek!” Hazel shrieks, slapping her hands over her mouth, and diving against Rya on the couch. “Oh my god,” she giggles and stands.
“And Rya!”
Laughter explodes into the room.
Some guy shouts, “I’d say you should have split up the girls from the guys, but I’m going to have such fucking good dreams tonight imagining whatever happened in their closet.” Another couple of people hoot with laughter. I don’t quite know what to think, but this is better than other alternatives, I suppose. Rya pulls a face at me, shrugging while Hazel does this funny little jog in front of her and holds her hands out.
“Come on, roomie! It’s closet time!” A very obviously drunk Hazel practically bounces over to Trip, Rya in tow. He hands her their envelope, and she quickly tears into it. A moment later, she snort-laughs, then shows Rya their Seven Minutes in Heaven challenge as she loudly boasts, “Can’t wait to kiss you with tongue in the closet!” Waving their instructions in the air, she laughs hysterically.
Rya squeezes her eyes shut, but at least she seems to be amused as Hazel tugs her into one of the closets. The other pair disappears through a second doorway, and it’s on. With seven minutes set on the timer on Trip’s phone, the doors are closed, and music blasts through the speakers. There’s nothing to do now but wait .
Most people are laughing and talking, speculation over what’s going on in the closets running rampant, but I’m actually more interested in what’s going on in Logan’s head across the room. My mind bends, and all at once, I physically feel him moving under me, his thighs caging my hips as I hold him down by the wrists. The rough way we’d attacked each other’s mouths. Our erections caught between us, and the resulting explosion. My ears buzz as I forcefully jerk myself from those thoughts. I run a hand over my jaw, unwilling to allow the voice in the back of my head to take over. This would be my opportunity to dig the knife deep and let him know what transpired between us was another bid on my part to fuck with him. Because that’s all it was.
Slowly, I make my way over, waiting until Levi spots someone he wants to talk to and leaves Logan’s side. I watch my stepbrother as he gets up and heads for a dark corner, then leans against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. He’s giving off leave-me-the-fuck-alone vibes, and most people who glance his direction quickly decide he’s in no mood to be interrupted. I’m not most people, though. And Logan doesn’t get a pass tonight. Irritation prickles through me at the set of his strong jaw, and my eyes follow the way the muscles twitch under his skin. Heat consumes me as memories of stubble scraping my neck send me spinning. The hard planes of his body had been so different, but so fucking good, I’d come like a motherfucking geyser.
Fuck. Goddamn him.
My movements are stealthy, like a lion stalking its prey. That’s all Logan is to me. Something that needs to be hunted down and fucked up. I’ve got his girl. I’ve made him miserable. But it’s not enough. There’s this fire in my belly that won’t abate because he’s still in my space.
I get within six feet before he casts his gaze in my direction. He’s wary, readjusting how he’s holding up the wall, his chest puffing out with every exaggerated breath he takes. I slip past a couple of girls flailing their arms around as they dance and take up residence beside him, all while staring at the partygoers as the time on the Seven Minutes in Heaven clock ticks down.
“You know she’s fucking miserable, right?” I tuck my tongue into my cheek, peering at his profile from the corner of my eye. A flash of firm lips under mine pokes at the corner of my mind like a hot brand, and I grit my teeth against it, willing it to get the fuck out of my head.
His swift inhale is followed by silence, so I keep going. “You’re doing a shitty job of showing her she’s still your friend. I could tell her you’re no longer interested in filling that role in her life, if you want.” Making a clicking sound with my tongue, I let my gaze swing to his. “It’s a damn shame you’d let a little thing like her wanting to date another guy come between you.” Looking away, I scan the room, wondering how much more time I have to deliver a few more blows.
When Logan turns his head toward me, his eyes bore a hole in the side of my head until I relent, this time shifting to lean against my shoulder so I can fully meet his icy blue glare. We stare at each other for several hate-fueled seconds before he growls, “Jaxon?—”
Letting my maniacal laughter interrupt him, in a low voice, I grit out, “Don’t worry, bro. I’ll be there to pick up the pieces and put her back together once she’s forgotten about you.” I wink as he pierces me with hollow eyes. He doesn’t fucking fool me. The pain hidden within him gives me a sick pleasure.
He deserves to feel this way. He’s had everything. All the advantages. None of the worry. He’s never wanted for anything. Never struggled. And has been free to be who he fucking wants to be.
This is what I keep telling myself as I push off the wall and begin to back away. I can’t get him the fuck out of my head. I take one slow breath after another, hoping they calm me, but they don’t. The invading thoughts are putting my plan in serious jeopardy as the same questions circle my head over and over .
I wish I knew what Logan was thinking that night in the hotel. And where the fuck did he spend the rest of the night after he left?