21. 21
Jax
She has that face.
The I-just-got-fucked face.
It’s hard to miss with her wide, dazed eyes sweeping across the room, the subtle flush in her cheeks, and a look that all but screams we definitely just fucked outside.
And hell, if it isn’t adorable.
I never thought I’d be the type to pull something like that—especially not somewhere this bloody public. But I won’t lie… it was hot. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Feeling her come apart like that, under all those twinkling lights, roses everywhere, her hands fisting ivy.
Now, I just have to fight the urge to drag her back out there. But right now? Ana needs us a hell of a lot more than I need to be buried inside a certain redhead.
Problem is, we’re all sat around this bloody massive table.
It’s pretty much impossible for anyone to actually be there for anyone.
Desmond tries anyway, leaning so far over in his chair it’s a miracle it doesn’t topple over and send him flying.
He whispers something into Ana’s ear. She nods robotically, her eyes locked on the tiny, flickering flame of the tea light in front of her. She looks like she’s about to throw up.
I go to reach for her across the table, but Allie beats me to it—her hand wrapping around Ana’s, giving it a light squeeze that somehow gets her to look up. And finally, she cracks the tiniest smile.
Then applause breaks out around the room, catching all of us off guard. Poor James even jumps a little, his eyes wide before cracking a smile and chuckling under his breath at himself.
A tall woman in a black-and-gold wrap dress steps onto the stage. Her smile is almost contagious, like she’s genuinely excited to be here, to present this award for…
Wait… what is this award even for?
I glance over at Allie just as she flicks her gaze between the stage and Ana. Her eyes are already filled with so much pride it hits me right in the chest. She squeezes Ana’s hand again, and they both turn to face the stage as the applause dies down.
“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the first annual Debut Breakthrough Award, hosted by Lily & Raine Press,” the woman says through the mic, her gaze sweeping across every table.
“I’m Camille Beltran, Editorial Director here at L&R, and I am beyond thrilled to be here tonight to present this award. ”
She pauses just long enough to let the silence settle around her before continuing.
“This award was created to celebrate the magic of firsts. Debut novels are a special kind of brave. They’re raw, honest, and often written without any guarantee that anyone will ever read them—let alone love them.
Sometimes, they take a little time to settle in,” she adds, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.
“But tonight, we’re not just honoring a book,” Camille continues, voice softening. “We’re honoring a voice that broke through—headfirst. A story that connected with so many readers, it quickly became clear who the winner would be. At least to us.”
Silence falls over the room as Camille slips her hand into an envelope behind the podium. After a moment, she looks up from the slip of paper, tucking it beneath something on the podium ledge.
She takes a deep breath, bites back a grin, then leans into the mic. “And the winner of this year’s Debut Breakthrough Award—and fifteen thousand dollars—is… Ana Padilla!”
My mouth falls open as the entire room explodes in cheers. Screaming. Applause. Even tears—though, let’s be honest, most of that is coming from our table.
Ana’s eyes go wide as she looks between her three screaming best friends, completely stunned. And, funny enough, James is the loudest one. He’s already on his feet, face turning crimson as he pulls her into a hug so tight it nearly knocks her over.
And Allie? God, she looks especially proud. Her eyes shimmer with tears as she drapes an arm over James’s shoulder. The two of them watch like two proud parents as Ana climbs the few steps to the stage.
Ana accepts the small, glass, book-shaped plaque with trembling hands. Her sniffles echo through the venue as she steps up to the mic and takes a steadying breath. For a second, she just stands there. Like two and two haven’t quite clicked and she still can’t believe it.
“Wow,” she says softly. “I… can’t believe it.”
Called it.
She shakes her head and holds the plaque out in front of her, reading it over as a shaky laugh slips free.
“This book… I wrote it because I didn’t know how else to get through what I was going through at the time.
I didn’t expect anyone to read it. I didn’t even want anyone to read it at first.” She pauses, her eyes flicking to our table.
“But then my best friend, Allie, read it. And she didn’t laugh.
She didn’t make me feel as broken as I thought I was. ”
Her voice wavers as she blows out a long, steadying breath.
“She made me believe in myself. That maybe this could be something I’d actually be good at.
That my words could mean something to someone.
Someone who needed them even more than I did.
That everyone deserves to be loved. No matter what anyone else believes.
” She lifts the plaque, showing it off with a small, tearful smile.
“So, thank you, Allie. And thank you, L&R. For seeing me. For believing in me.” She laughs. “And for the fifteen thousand dollars.”
Everyone else joins her as laughter boomerangs around the room.
Then her eyes find mine.
“And Jax,” she says, one brow raised. “If you break her heart, I will break your kneecaps. With love, obviously.”
I dip my head and raise my glass, a quiet promise that says, Trust me. I know.
The second she leaves the stage, the group wraps her in a hug, jumping wildly. My hands even find the table edge, making sure they don’t knock over the bloody thing.
James lets go first, his eyes wet with tears, cheeks still red before he yells—
“Shots!”
I still want to smack him.
Screaming for shots. In a ballroom. With an actual orchestra playing in the bloody corner. This is exactly why rock stars get a bad rap.
Did I want shots the second he said it? Hell yeah. Now, if he yelled it here—at an actual restaurant, where alcohol is within arm’s reach? Well. I’d probably still want to smack him. Just not as hard.
Everyone’s deep in conversation, their voices overlapping, when I clear my throat. They each turn my way slowly.
“All right,” I say, loud enough to cut through the noise. “You guys order whatever you want tonight. It’s on me.”
Allie turns to me, that same bloody dress still clinging to her in all the right ways.
Which is a hell of a time considering I still have zero self control left.
Her cheeks go pink when our eyes meet. I wink, doing everything I can not to look at her legs again.
Definitely not because I’m still picturing the way she looked an hour ago, breathless, pressed up against that wall in the greenhouse.
The way she was practically begging me to fuck her against it.
How she came prepared and was dripping by the time I—
Yeah. Definitely should’ve gone back to the hotel first to change. Sitting this close to her right now? Torture.
And now there’s alcohol involved.
The food orders roll in quickly—minus James, who studies the menu like he’s prepping for an exam and, of course, ends up ordering the lobster.
The one thing he hates, just to be a pain in my arse—I guarantee it.
He’s done it every single time we’ve gone out.
The second he hears he’s not the one paying, it’s suddenly “let’s get the most expensive thing on the menu,” take two bites, and then stare at everyone else’s plates like a begging dog.
But tonight isn’t about him. Before anyone can dig in, I tap my fork against my glass and slowly stand.
Every head turns—including a few from surrounding tables—and I immediately regret this brilliant plan.
Still, I clear my throat and raise my glass.
“To Ana,” I say, smiling. “If anyone deserves it, it’s you. We’re all incredibly proud of you.”
She presses a hand to her chest. “Thanks, Jax.” Then points at me, smirking. “But I still meant what I said about your kneecaps.”
I chuckle and sit back down as everyone picks up where they left off—talking over each other, laughing too loud, stealing food off each other’s plates.
Allie’s hand slides onto my thigh. She leans in, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”
A slow smile tugs at my lips. I lean in and brush a soft kiss to her cheek.
She slips right back into the conversation, tucking her hair behind her ear as she nods at something Nora said.
Me? I just sit here. Quiet. Watching all of them—Ana smacking Desmond’s arm for stealing her fries, James trying not to gag on the lobster he insisted on ordering.
And just when I start to settle into the moment, James clears his throat.
“Actually,” he says, eyes on the menu again with a fist in front of his mouth, “I think I want to order something else.”
Everyone groans.
But honestly? Right now, I don’t even care.
Because this loud, stubborn group is my family.
And I wouldn’t change a bloody thing about it.