22. 22
Allie
I think that was, by far, the best dinner experience I’ve ever had.
In New York, of all places.
Everyone was happy, joking around, sharing their food—okay, stealing, but whatever. It was fun.
For the first time, we all went out together and no one had a single complaint. No drama. No storming off. Just easy, genuine fun.
I’m almost sad to see the night end.
“Good night!” Desmond and James shout in unison, their heads poking out of their doorway before they slam it shut with a loud thud.
I go to shout something to them, but freeze when I catch Nora and Gareth slipping silently into the room next door. No goodnight. No wave. Not even a glance.
My eyebrows shoot halfway to my hairline. Seriously?
Before I can say anything, though, Ana’s across the hall, already cupping her hands around her mouth with her eyes locked on their door.
“Goodnight to you guys, too! We love you so much!” she bellows, her voice carrying—I’m sure—farther than just a few doors down.
I laugh, pressing a finger to my lips. “Shh! You’re going to wake the whole floor.”
She flicks her hair dramatically. “Good,” she grins, tilting her head. “Say thank you to Jax again for me?”
“Of course. Congratulations again—you earned it.”
When our door clicks shut, I turn to find Jax sitting on the edge of the cream-colored comforter, untying his shoes, his tie draped loosely around his neck.
I cross the room and ease onto the mattress behind him, letting my hands settle on his tense shoulders. Slowly, I press into the knots, hoping to at least lift some of the weight, even if it’s only for a minute while he’s still focused on his shoes.
But then my eyes drift to the tinted balcony doors, and just like that, I’m pulled back to that night.
It’s hard to believe it’s only been a few months since Jax surprised me with my new favorite song.
The one that changed everything. Changed us.
In ways neither of us saw coming—or at least, not me.
I’m so busy staring at the doors that I don’t even notice my hands have stilled—and are no longer on Jax’s back.
It takes me a second to realize he’s not even sitting on the bed anymore. Not until I feel his warm, calloused fingers wrap around my ankle.
I glance down, meeting his gaze just as he winks and begins to unbuckle the strap of my heel. He presses a soft kiss to the spot where the strap had rested, then slips the shoe off and places it carefully on the floor beside him.
“Did you have a nice time?” His voice is suddenly deeper, more husky than usual, sending a ripple up my spine.
I nod slowly, watching the way he handles my ankle with such care, setting it down gently to switch to the other one.
“Good. I’m glad.” He smirks, his eyes lingering on mine in a way that makes my breath hitch.
I couldn’t tell anyone why this has me so entranced, but it does. A gorgeous man on his knees before me, removing my heels after we just had a perfect dinner with our friends.
When did I ever get so lucky to have him?
He successfully removes the second shoe, setting it gently beside the first. Then his eyes find mine again, and he flashes that famous crooked smile—the one that never fails to melt my insides.
His eyes don’t leave mine as he slowly rises from the floor, his hands on either side of my thighs, and leans in until his lips just barely brush mine. My breath catches, but before he can close the distance, I press a hand gently to his chest and shake my head.
His face falls, confusion clear in the way his eyebrows quickly knit together. But just as quickly, he gives me a reassuring smile.
“We don’t have to tonight, Al. It’s okay,” he says softly.
And boy is he wrong.
I shake my head, pressing a little firmer against his chest until he flops back onto the mattress with a soft thud. He was quick before to smooth out his brows, but now? Now they’re pinched even tighter, his gaze tracking me like he’s trying to figure me out.
He doesn’t say a word—just watches as I rise to my feet, gathering my hair and tying it into a loose ponytail.
Then I sink to my knees in front of him, meeting his eyes as my fingers trace along his belt.
I don’t miss the way his breath hitches as he pulls himself up to watch, or how he doesn’t say a word.
Not when I undo the buckle.
Not when I’m tugging at his zipper.
And definitely not when my nails trail over the heat of his bulge through his boxers.
I free him, making sure his eyes are on me before circling my tongue around his crown. Watching his eyes roll to the back of his head? It’s honestly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Especially knowing I’m the one doing it to him.
“Fuck,” he rasps, his fingers threading through my hair.
His hips buck lightly, not enough to jam it down my throat, but enough to tell me he’s absolutely loving this.
Confidence boost.
My tongue lathers from his base, all the way to the tip, collecting every bit of his precum that I can. Then I take him as far as I can—
A loud crash explodes on the other side of the wall, followed by screaming.
I nearly choke, but thankfully don’t bite down. Jax goes rigid beneath me as I scramble to my feet, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“What the hell was that?” I gasp, not really expecting an answer.
He glances at the wall. “It sounded like it came from—”
CRASH!
“Gareth, stop!” Nora screams from behind the wall.
We both freeze, eyes wide.
Then we’re up, and I’m already scrambling for the door.
So much for a good night without any drama.