Chapter 23 Jaxon #2
I’m about to toss my phone onto the bed in frustration when something catches my eye—a few messages blinking on the screen. My heart jumps, chest tight. They must have come in while I was downstairs.
I check my ringer—off, of course—and my pulse quickens as I open them.
Rowyn.
Rowyn: Great game, Lumber-Jax.
I chuckle softly and sink deeper into the wingback chair by the window, phone in hand, reading her second message.
Rowyn: I’m guessing you’re asleep after the game. I stayed up in case you wanted to talk. I hope my messages aren’t waking you.
I hit dial, heart picking up pace, and a second later her soft, sleepy voice drifts through the receiver, threading warmth straight through my chest. I kick off my shoes and settle further into the chair, letting the exhaustion from the day wash over me.
But even now, there’s nothing I’d rather do than hear her voice.
“Hey…sorry I missed your texts. My ringer was off,” I murmur.
“I’m not catching you at a bad time, am I?” I hear the subtle rustle of sheets on her end, and it sends an involuntary shiver down my spine.
“Not at all. What are you still doing up?”
“Isn’t chatting when you’re on the road part of the deal?”
Right.
Shit.
That’s what I get for reading too much into this.
“I was worried my bed wasn’t comfortable,” I joke wishing I was there with her.
Her laugh, low and sexy, ripples through the line like a caress. “It’s comfortable, it’s just…”
I tilt my head, a beat of silence passing. “Just what?”
Her reply is quiet, but it lands like a blow to my chest. “You’re not in it.”
My heart lurches and I grab a water bottle, cracking it open and swallowing greedily, trying to calm the sudden heat rising in my veins.
“Jax?” she murmurs, her voice edged with something soft. Worry, maybe.
I force a casual tone, unwilling to let myself read too much into her words, unwilling to let my own heart betray me. “Sorry…needed a drink. Dry throat.” A breathy exhale from her, and I add quickly, “I wish I was there with you too.”
“I loved watching you play tonight. I wish I could have been there to cheer you on.” Her words tumble out softly, intimate and teasing, and I feel a tug in my chest I can’t ignore.
“When we play at home, you’ll be with the WAGs in the box.” The thought of her there, eyes on me, cheering, makes a thrill crawl along my spine.
“When you get home, we’re going to celebrate the wins,” she says.
“That sounds…interesting,” I murmur, a grin spreading.
I push off the chair, peeling away my clothes, and slip between the sheets. “Want to switch to video?”
She chuckles, that soft, mischievous sound I’ve grown addicted to. “You think I’m lying in your bed in something sexy, Jaxon?”
I laugh with her, a warm, easy sound. Honestly, it doesn’t matter what she’s wearing. Just knowing she’s in my house, my bed, wrapped up in my sheets—her presence alone—is enough to make my chest tighten in a way I’ve never felt before.
“Maybe,” I tease, fumbling with the phone. “Hang on.” I switch to video.
Her face fills the screen, beautiful, makeup-free, hair slightly mussed from lying down, and my heart skips a beat. There’s something raw and real in that moment, something I don’t think I’ve let myself feel before. I shift the pillow behind my back, sinking into it, and try to focus.
“How did it go with Zoe and Grant?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
Her eyes light up at the mention of the kids, and I watch her expression carefully.
The look confirms everything I’ve been feeling, all the subtle signs I’ve been picking up.
She wants a family. She wants a home. She wants something permanent.
But all the lessons drilled into her since childhood—men leave, you’ll have to do it alone, your career comes first—keep her hesitating, holding herself back.
And just like that, I realize again how fiercely I want her to have it all. I want her. I want to lay the past to rest and give it all to her.
But yet, even with that admission, I’m painfully aware that I may never be the one to give it to her.
“It was a lot of fun. We went to the park, fed the ducks, and had a picnic.” Her laugh is soft, warm, and it makes something tighten in my chest. “Ohmigod, little Grant is so funny, and it’s incredible how much patience Zoe has with him.
She’s such a good big sister. If I ever had kids, I’d want more than one. ”
I smile, remembering the chaos and joy of my own childhood. “I was an only child too, but the inn was always filled with people and kids to play with. It always felt like I had a huge family.”
Her eyes dim a little, and I catch that fleeting shadow of longing, like she’s picturing the life she never got. “That’s nice, Jax. I always wanted a sibling.”
“The WAGs are like that, though, aren’t they? One big happy family, all there for each other,” I add.
“Yeah.” Her voice softens, and she glances down for a second.
My stomach twists. Once this—this intimate thing between us is—is over, we’ll still be friends, but she won’t have that same connection.
The WAGs are going to Vegas, and if our…
arrangement ends before then, she might miss it, or it won’t feel the same.
“Row, I was thinking,” I start, trying to sound casual, but my heart is already beating faster.
“Oh…” Her voice takes on that teasing edge she uses when she knows I’m up to something. “…should I be worried?”
I grin and lean back, one arm draped behind my head. “You want to go with the WAGs to Vegas, right?”
She shrugs, light and easy, but I can sense the weight behind it. “I mean, it would be fun, but that’s a long time away…and work…”
“It’s next month,” I counter, my tone softening. “Not that far off. Weren’t you saying you needed a vacation?”
She sinks deeper into her pillow, rubbing at her eyes.
Tiredness shows its shadows not just beneath her lashes, but in her entire posture, in the way she speaks.
Is she even enjoying her job anymore? Is it what she really wants to do?
My chest tightens at the thought of her settling, of her giving herself to everyone else’s expectations but her own.
“I think Vegas would be good for you,” I say gently, letting the warmth in my voice carry over the phone.
For a moment, something soft and appreciative flickers across her face. “Here I thought you were going to ask me to get naked.”
I laugh, the sound low and teasing. “The night is still young, babe.”
She turns her head, probably checking the time, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Actually, it’s not.”
“You’re right, it’s not. So…can I get a rain check on getting you naked?”
“Always,” she murmurs, the word heavy with both playfulness and the unspoken rules between us.
Always…until this is over.
“I think we should pretend a little longer,” I say finally, voice quiet but firm.
“At least until after the Vegas trip is over.” She glances away for a second, stormy and conflicted.
“Unless, of course, you don’t want to. I mean, hot coffee shop guy is already interested, and you don’t want to leave him hanging too long. ”
She shifts her gaze back to me, and I catch that spark of mischief and vulnerability all at once. “True,” she admits. “But a girls Vegas trip sounds amazing. I’ve never done any kind of girls’ trip before.”
My chest tightens, and I want to ask if that’s the real reason, or do I dare hope that she wants to spend more time with me, because she likes me. I can’t ask. Asking might ruin the friendship and I can’t risk not having her in my life.