Chapter 22 Unspoken Choices
UNSPOKEN CHOICES
LILY
The air in the living room feels heavy with anticipation.
I can’t help grinning as I watch Enzo and Jax face off in what has somehow turned into the most intense game of rock-paper-scissors ever.
It started as a joke, but the determination on their faces makes it seem like they’re negotiating world peace instead of deciding whose turn it is to spend the night with me.
Enzo, with his signature cocky smirk, adjusts his stance like he’s about to land a knockout punch.
His dark hair falls over his eyes, and he brushes it back with an impatient flick.
Jax, on the other hand, is surprisingly calm.
His green eyes are steady, his posture relaxed, but there’s an undeniable edge of focus that reminds me of the way he looks on stage.
His damp hair curls around his ears, and despite everything he’s been through, there’s a flicker of confidence in him.
“One, two, three!” they chant in unison, their hands moving in sync.
Rock. Paper. Scissors.
Jax throws paper. Enzo sticks with a solid fist.
“I win,” Jax says, grinning as if he’s just scored the winning point in a championship game. His voice is rough, but carries a soft undertone of triumph. He glances at me, his expression shifting into something more tender. “Looks like you’re stuck with me tonight, Lily.”
A warmth blooms in my chest at the way he says it—not cocky, not possessive, just gentle, eager, excited.
Enzo rolls his eyes, though there’s a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He leans back on the couch, crossing his arms. “Fine. You get her tonight. Just don’t make it awkward. I don’t want to have to deal with both of you tomorrow if Lily starts avoiding you again.”
“Me? Awkward? I would never do anything that would cause Lily to ignore me.” Jax raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence.
I laugh, shaking my head at their antics. They’re so different, yet somehow they balance each other perfectly. Watching them like this reminds me of their dynamic on stage—a little chaotic, but undeniably in sync.
As the banter fades, Alma’s words resurface in my mind. You have to figure out what you want, Lily. Don’t just go along for the ride. Being with all of them feels so natural, so effortless. Maybe that’s the answer—I don’t have to choose. Not yet. Hopefully not ever.
Jax stands and reaches out for my hand, his expression soft but hesitant. “Come on, Lily,” he says, his voice low. “Let’s go enjoy our night together. Alone,” he adds, throwing a smirk at Enzo.
I take his hand, the roughness of his calloused fingers grazing against mine. His grip is firm but careful, and the warmth of his palm sends a shiver through me. My pulse quickens as I follow him down the hallway, leaving the others behind.
Enzo’s voice trails after us. “Don’t get too comfortable, Jax. It’s my night next.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jax mutters, but there’s laughter in his tone. He squeezes my hand lightly as we step into his room.
The scent of leather and faint cologne greets me—his scent. It’s comforting, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. The room is simple but has a lived-in charm. A guitar leans against the wall, and the bed is rumpled, the sheets twisted from restless nights.
Jax sits on the edge of the bed and looks up at me, tension evident in his shoulders. I sit beside him, our knees brushing.
“How are you feeling?” I ask softly, brushing my fingers over his hand.
“Better,” he admits, though his voice is quiet. He runs a hand through his messy hair, his gaze dropping to the floor. “But I still feel like I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I cup his face, gently tilting his head so his eyes meet mine. “Jax, you need to forgive yourself.”
His green eyes soften, but doubt lingers in their depths. “What if I can’t?”
I shake my head firmly, my fingers brushing over his cheek. “Jax. You’re worth it. You always have been. I see that and I wish you could see it too.”
The vulnerability in his eyes is heartbreaking, but he leans in, pressing a soft, hesitant kiss to my lips. It’s not rushed or desperate—just quiet, almost as if he’s afraid to ask for more.
He pulls back and stares into my eyes. “I am willing to try. To forgive myself. I just might need your help to remind me from time to time.”
I gently cup his cheek in my hand and nod. “I will remind you whenever you need it.”
I kiss him this time, letting the warmth between us build slowly. There’s something about the way Jax kisses—gentle yet full of longing, as if he’s trying to hold on to something fragile. His lips are warm and slightly chapped, but the tenderness behind them makes my heart ache in the best way.
When we finally pull back, our foreheads rest together, and his breath mingles with mine.
“Thank you, Lily,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.
“For what?” I ask, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his wrist.
“For being here. For believing in me.”
I smile softly, my heart swelling. “Always.”
Jax’s eyes darken, his gaze dropping to my lips. He brushes his thumb across my lower lip before pulling me into another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent. I respond eagerly, my hands sliding into his hair as he pushes me back onto the bed. His weight settles over me, warm and solid.
His hands roam down my body, his touch lingering at my sides before sliding beneath my shirt.
The calluses on his palms brush against my skin, sending shivers racing through me.
Slowly, deliberately, he lifts the fabric, his fingers grazing my stomach as he pulls it over my head.
His lips follow immediately, pressing kisses along the curve of my shoulder, then down the delicate line of my collarbone.
Each touch is gentle yet electric, a perfect balance of passion and restraint.
I reach for the hem of his shirt, and he hesitates for just a second before pulling it off, revealing the strong, lean lines of his body.
My hands drift across his chest, tracing the faint scars, intricate tattoos, and taut muscles beneath my fingertips.
His skin is warm, and the faint scent of leather clings to his skin.
His lips find mine again, softer this time, slower, as if he’s savoring every second.
He shifts, his body pressing closer, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart against mine.
His hands move to my waist, sliding down to the waistband of my shorts.
He doesn’t rush; instead, he looks at me, silently asking for permission.
I nod, my breath hitching as he eases them down, leaving me bare beneath him.
He pauses, his gaze roaming over me with reverence. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. There’s something raw in the way he looks at me, something that makes my chest tighten and my heart race.
Instead of diving in, Jax starts slowly, kissing my knees, my thighs, working his way upward with a tenderness that feels like a revelation.
Every kiss is deliberate, a quiet worship of my body that makes me feel seen in a way I never have before.
His lips press against the sensitive skin just below my hip, and I can’t stop the soft gasp that escapes me.
When his mouth finally finds the place I need him most, he takes his time, his movements unhurried and thorough.
My hands thread into his hair, gripping gently as my body responds to him, a steady crescendo building until I’m trembling under his touch.
He doesn’t stop, not until I’m completely undone, my breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps.
He kisses his way back up, his hands cradling my hips as he settles over me. He doesn’t rush to claim me; instead, he pauses, his forehead resting against mine. “Are you sure?” he asks softly, his voice laced with vulnerability.
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me.
When he finally enters me, it’s slow, deliberate, as if he’s determined to draw out every moment.
His movements are unhurried, each thrust a quiet declaration, a promise of something more.
There’s no frenzy, no desperation—just the steady rhythm of our bodies moving together, the quiet intimacy of two people learning how to heal through each other.
The world outside disappears. There’s only Jax—the heat of his skin, the weight of his body, the way his hands grip mine like he’s afraid to let go. The intensity builds, wave after wave, until I’m teetering on the edge, and with one final thrust, I shatter, pulling him with me.
Afterward, we lie tangled in the sheets, his arm draped protectively over me. My head rests on his chest, the steady beat of his heart a calming rhythm against my ear. The silence between us isn’t heavy; it’s peaceful, filled with the quiet understanding of everything we’ve shared.
Jax presses a kiss to the top of my head, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Lily. For seeing me, even when I can’t see myself.”
I tilt my head to look at him, my fingers tracing the tattoos along his side. “You’re worth seeing, Jax. You always have been.”
He doesn’t respond with words, just pulls me closer, his grip tightening as if to hold on to the moment.