Chapter 43
forty-three
I’m sitting at the kitchen island brooding into my coffee when something lands on the counter in front of me with a slap.
“You want to explain this?”
When I glance up, the look on Sasha’s face has me popping an eyebrow in surprise. I don’t even look to see what it is she threw down. All I see is the fire in her eyes.
Even with her face flushed, and her hair still mussed from sleep, she’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, redirecting my attention.
Fuck.
I can see the slight shadow of her pierced nipples through the faded white T-shirt she’s wearing, and it makes my brain short-circuit.
“Jax!”
My eyes snap back up to her face. “Sorry, what?”
With an exasperated huff, she jabs her finger. “Care to explain this?”
Mentally shaking myself, I glance down, and my stomach drops.
It’s my sketchbook. The one filled with drawings of her.
The one I’m sure I’d carefully tucked away in my office drawer the day I showed her my studio.
Then it hits me. I was thumbing through it yesterday when I got distracted by a phone call and must have left it out.
“Where did you get that?” I ask, caught between a nervous swallow and a flash of irritation, knowing she’s been poking around my studio.
“I couldn’t sleep last night because I was hungry, so I came downstairs to make a sandwich. The door was open, and I was curious.” Her eyes narrow. “But that’s not the point right now. Why do you have an entire sketchbook filled with drawings of me?”
She pauses as she moves to flip through it, lowering her voice to a whisper as she points. “This one?”
Shit. It’s the one from when I saw her through her window the night of the storm.
I glance back down at the book. Scrubbing my hands over my face, my mind flashes back to part of a conversation I had yesterday with Ryder at lunch.
“How do you know if it’s the right thing to do?” I ask, picking at my sandwich.
Ryder glances up, fork halfway to his mouth. “What?”
I’m not used to talking about deep shit like this, and it makes me shift uncomfortably in my seat. “Cross a line you promised yourself you’d never cross.”
“You don’t.” He shrugs. “Sometimes you just gotta suck it up and take a chance. The fact that you’re even asking should be all the answer you need.”
Now, with Sasha questioning me, demanding answers, those words mean so much more now than I’d meant them at the time. Maybe Ryder was right. Maybe it’s time to suck it up and tell her the truth. Not just about the sketch, but how I’m starting to feel about her.
I stand, quickly moving around the island. Bracing my hands on the counter on either side of her, I take a deep breath in and hang my head.
When I look up to meet her gaze, it’s full of betrayal and, dare I say, a touch of heat? As I nervously swipe my tongue along my bottom lip, the heat in them surges for a moment before shifting into what I can only describe as stubborn anger.
“It was the same night as that crazy storm we had a few weeks ago. It was an accident. Your curtains were open and...”
“So you figured you would just accidentally watch me get undressed?” Carefully crossing her arms under her breasts, she looks over my shoulder, refusing to meet my gaze. “Why not close the curtains?”
Reaching up, I tuck my hand under her chin, gently grasping her throat. “Sasha, please look at me.”
She huffs out a breath and meets my eyes.
“I’ve felt drawn to you since the first time I saw you,” I admit, my voice low.
“Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since.
When I saw you through your window that night, I thought about closing my curtains, honestly I did.
But then I saw my sketchbook sitting on my nightstand and I just.. . reacted. I couldn’t help myself.”
Her eyes widen slightly, and I can feel her pulse quicken beneath my fingertips.
“And what happened between us last night at Skin & Ink...” I swallow hard. “It scared the shit out of me.”
“Why?” she rasps.
“Because I’m starting to feel things I didn’t think I was ever capable of feeling.
” The words feel like they’re being torn from my chest. “When I first offered you friends with benefits, I wasn’t sure how far I wanted it to go.
All I knew was that I wanted… no… needed to have you again.
To make you mine. Not for a moment did I even think about a chance at forever. ”
She jerks her chin out of my grasp, eyes searching mine. “What exactly are you saying, Jax?”
“I’m saying that I wanted to keep things casual because I thought that’s all I was capable of.
But then after...” My voice trails off as I struggle to find the right words.
“In that moment, something inside me... shifted. I’m sorry if seeing those sketches freaked you out, but I’m not sorry I drew them. ”
Sasha shoves at my chest, and reluctantly, I take a step back. “So… what? Now you’re telling me you want more?”
“Yeah,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.
“You should have just talked to me instead of clamming up like you did last night.” She shakes her head. “Do you know how that made me feel? Like I’d said or done something wrong!”
“You didn’t,” I say quickly. “It was all me. I freaked out. I needed time to process what was happening.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. “Are any of these from...” Her finger taps on the pad of paper. “…before?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
“How long, Jax?” Her voice is barely audible.
“Since the first time I saw you in town about two months after we hooked up at Skin & Ink’s tenth anniversary party,” I admit. “I was at Rise & Dine, and you walked in with your real estate agent. It was the first time I’d seen you since then.”
Her expression softens slightly, but it’s obvious she’s still wary.
“I’m not saying this to pressure you or anything,” I add quickly. “I just need you to understand why. The ball’s in your court, sweet cheeks. If you don’t want anything more than what we’re doing now, then I’ll respect your decision. It’ll suck, but…”
“I think maybe we should stop altogether.”
Her words land hard, causing my breath to shudder as it leaves my lungs.
For a moment, I can’t find my words. It feels like she ripped my heart out and crushed it beneath her feet.
But I can see the panic in her eyes, shoulders tense as if she’s preparing for a fight, so I carefully soften my voice. “Is that really what you want?”
She looks away, breaking eye contact. “I don’t know what I want. That’s the problem.”
I want to take a step closer, but I don’t want to crowd her. “I’ve thought about what I want. Can I tell you?”
When she nods, I reach out and take her hands in mine, hooking just our pinkies together.
“I want you, Sasha. Not just in my bed, but in my life.” My voice is gruff. “I want to wake up with you in the morning. I want to make you coffee just the way you like it and bring it to you in bed. I want to hold your hand in public, take you out to dinner and show you off.”
Her lips part, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“But most of all…” I squeeze her pinkies gently. “I want to be the man you turn to when you need someone. I want to be there for you, not just for the good times, but for the hard shit too.”
Her eyes search mine, and I can see conflict and fear warring with desire.
“Jax, I...” She pulls away, wrapping her arms around herself. “…I need…” She looks away. “Maybe I should just go back to my house.”
“No.” The word comes out as a gruff snarl, and it takes everything in me to soften my tone. “We still don’t know if it’s safe.”
She goes quiet, mulling it over, until finally, “Then, for now, we’re just friends… roommates.”
It stings, but I nod, so she knows I understand. “Okay.”