25. Jaxon
It’s late. I know that much. But when my ears prick at the sound of the front door opening, I immediately stand. I purposely kept my office door open for this exact reason. I’m trying my damn hardest to not be overbearing, but I was counting down the seconds until they got home.
I tidy away the notes on my desk before heading downstairs into my private kitchen to find Lucy and a few of the other girls. All of them are chatting away like it isn’t the middle of the night. The smell of alcohol wafts from them like they’ve been out for the past five days. Holy hell. How much did they drink?
My eyes scan the room, but Ava is nowhere to be seen. The hairs on the back of my neck stand in her absence, but I know she’s here. My wolf is happily rested but eager to see her.
“Alpha Jaxon!” Phia shouts—or slurs—to get my attention. All of them are grinning ear to ear, swaying slightly.
“Where’s Ava?” I ask.
“She’s getting changed in her room,” Lucy responds.
“Fun night, girls?” I quirk a brow.
“Look what we learnt tonight!” Grace shouts across the space, even though I’m merely a few feet from her. I study her movements as few of the other girls hoist Phia up and hold her by her legs. She’s in the air, I’ll give them that. Did they accidentally fall into an acrobatics class?
Their laughter erupts, and the next thing I know, they’re all tumbling to the floor in a messy heap, all cackling like witches you see in movies. I jump back with a concerned expression.
Oh, Goddess. These girls are a nightmare.
“Ava taught us some tricks!” Grace shouts from the floor.
I arch a brow in utter surprise. “Did she?”
Lucy nods as she stuffs her face with leftover dinner from last night. “Yeah, it was fun. I wish I had filmed it. You would have died with laughter, Jaxon.”
Lucy helps the girls off the floor. I turn away from them, head back upstairs, and I walk straight towards Ava’s bedroom.
The door is slightly ajar, but I knock anyway. “Come in!” a muffled voice echoes. I step inside to find Ava struggling to put on a jumper. She can’t quite find the head hole. I smile to myself as I approach.
“Here,” I say, pulling down the material.
Her head bursts through the hole, her hair poking in every direction, eyes bloodshot. “Thank you!”
I blink at the loudness of her voice and the bright grin that doesn’t leave her face for a second. My gaze studies her makeup to find her eyes slightly smudged and her cheeks rosy.
All that alcohol hits me in one wave. Goddess.
“Are you drunk?” I ask, cocking my head.
Ava waves a hand in front of her face. “Pfft. Noooooo.”
She takes a step back which results in a stumble, so I lean forward to catch her before she hits the floor. I narrow my eyes at her playfully. “You’re not drunk?”
Ava nibbles on her lip and shoots me a finger. “Okay, you got me.”
I glance down at the heels that are still on her feet.
“Sit down.”
She doesn’t protest.
I kneel in front of her and take her ankle in my hand. I tug at the strings before pulling the shoe off her heel. My gaze hardens on the scars around her ankles, red and jagged. I breathe through my nose sharply and press a delicate kiss to the skin. Goddess, I’ll never understand how anyone could lay a finger on her.
“These hurt so bad,” she murmurs. “Why do people wear heels? They’re torture devices.”
I smile at her words. “Because they look good—especially on you.”
What I wouldn’t do to have them over my shoulders, I think to myself.
I shake my head and scold my wandering mind.
Her eyes roll playfully. “You would say that.”
My fingers start to undo the next heel, and I match her ankle with another kiss. I swipe my thumb along the tender flesh before placing them down on the floor. I glance up at her to see pure adoration in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Let me get you some water.”
I push onto my feet, and Ava follows. I reach down to take her hand, but she moves it away and wraps her arms around my middle instead, snuggling her face into my chest. My head tilts down at the surprising action before I lace my arms around her.
“I missed you,” she whispers, leaving my heart a puddle on the floor.
My head rests down on hers, and I leave a kiss on the crown of her head. I press my other hand to the nape of her neck. Her heart beats into my chest. I could live by that beat; it might just be the only thing keeping me alive. “I missed you, too, baby.”
When she lets my body go, I do the same. “Stay here for a second, okay?”
Her face falls immediately. “Where are you going?”
“To get you some water to help with your head in the morning.”
“Oh.” She relaxes. “Okay.”
I walk down the hall to my office and open the small fridge I keep here. I reach for a fresh bottle of water and retreat back to Ava’s bedroom.
When I return, I find her staring up at the ceiling. “Here,” I say. My voice alerts her, and she takes the bottle from my hand and inhales half of it.
She gasps for a breath like she’s never touched water in her entire life. “How was your night?” I ask.
“It was amazing! I had so much fun.” Her eyes light up with pure joy. She takes a step towards me so we’re closer. I enjoy this proximity; it reminds my wolf she’s home and safe.
She’s with us.
My mouth curls into a satisfied smile. “I’m glad you had a good time.”
“I lost count of how many drinks I had…b-but then–” Her words are nothing but a jumbled mess, and it makes me chuckle. She holds up her hands towards my face. “I fell up the stairs. I had no idea stairs could be so dangerous…upwards!”
This is highly entertaining.
“You fell up the stairs?” I ask as she nods. “Are you alright?”
I check her for any visual wounds, but all I can see is intoxication. She sways again, and I take her hand, leading her to the sofa before she falls and actually hurts herself.
“Yeah. It didn’t hurt.”
“Have you ever been drunk before?”
Ava throws her head back and laughs. No, she doesn’t laugh—she cackles. “H-have I ever been drunk before?” she slurs before standing up. Oh, Goddess, here we go. “You must think I’m so fucking boring!”
I’m startled for a moment. I think this is one of the first times I’ve heard her swear.
“I don’t think you’re boring,” I admit.
She ignores me and starts pacing the room. “You know I used to be a cheerleader?”
I instantly lean forward, pressing my elbows to my knees. Is she remembering?
Then, she stops to stand in a spot and presses a finger to her delicate lips. “Actually, I was the co-captain!”
I watch in awe as she throws her hand up to the ceiling with force. Her memories are starting to come back, and I’m glad I’m here to witness it. The smile on my face is permanent—practically tattooed on at this rate.
“That explains the circus act downstairs, then.” I chuckle gently. “Did you teach them some of your old tricks tonight?”
“Yes, that was all me.” Her eyes beam at me with pride. “And, and, and…” she trails off and begins walking again. I lean forward with my arms, ready to catch her if she topples over. “I used to go to parties with my friends. I used to dance until the early hours and drink and regret it all the next day but happily do it all again the weekend after.”
A moment of realisation suddenly hits me. Before I met her, she was a normal teenage girl. She’s a human and did things that made sense—now she’s been thrown into a new world that is completely alien to her.
“I used to be fun!” she yells, but then scowls and points to the middle of her chest. “No, I still am fun!”
She plants her hands on her hips for a second to catch her breath from all the yelling. I think she’s stopped, but then she starts again. “I’m sure you think I’m weak and fragile, and you tread on eggshells around me.”
“You know I don’t think that,” I express calmly. “I want to give you the time and space to grow yourself, not through me or anyone else. But you are far from weak, Ava.”
We stay silent for a few moments. I fear I’ve upset her, but when she starts spinning in a circle and laughing to herself, I know that comment has blown over her head.
“Do you remember your friends?” I ask.
“I remember my best friend, Kayleigh. We were like sisters,” she says, clutching her hands over her heart. “I miss her. She was like my family.”
I clear my throat and have a small flashback to the social media post I saw with a comment from a user called Kayleigh. Now she remembers, I know it’s something I’ll need to show her. It’s her choice if she wants to see any friends or family members. I know I cannot keep that from her.
“Do you remember your parents?” I ask gently.
Her head turns to look in my direction. “My parents?”
I nod and wait patiently.
“I didn’t really have any parents. I’ve been fostered since I was a baby. Never was chosen to be adopted, so I jumped from foster home to foster home.” Her lips turn downwards at the thought, and I hate how her emotions make my heart plummet. “Foster care sucks.”
She’s never had a loving home? My bloodstream freezes.
I open my mouth to respond, but she speaks first. “I wish I could feel like this forever,” she whispers, holding onto her neck as she looks up at the ceiling.
“Like what?”
“Like I have no problems. Like I’m normal.” She smiles to herself, but it’s not a happy smile.
I frown. “You are normal, Ava.”
She ignores me again, her eyes wandering over the room like she’s deep in thought. “Oh, yeah!” she blurts. “I also had a boyfriend.”
My entire throat closes as I choke. “You had a boyfriend?”
A weird sensation of ice-cold water and burning-hot fire rush through my body at once. I shake my head at the reaction and watch her as she swings her arms around her body.
“Mmhm,” she murmurs.
“Do you miss him?” I ask out of nowhere.
Goddess, help me get my shit together.
Ava’s eyes snap to mine within a second. “Do you miss Julia?”
Yeah, maybe we won’t go down that path tonight.
When I don’t respond, she wanders back over to the sofa and sits down next to me. Well…half on me, half on the sofa. I never expected her to sit this close, but I’m not complaining. I like knowing she trusts me.
Her hand reaches up, and she traces her index finger over my stubble and across my lips. Her touch is so gentle I barely feel it.I study her face as she analyses mine with big eyes and a pretty smile. The bond is zapping between us like lightning; it’s in the pit of my stomach.
“You’re a fine specimen,” she whispers as her finger pulls down my bottom lip.
My heart thumps in my throat. I grab her little fingers and press my lips to her warm skin in return. “You have a way with words, Ava.” I chuckle softly.
She fidgets on her knees and falls back. Luckily, I have a grip on her waist, catching her before she hits the floor.
“Woah!” she shrieks. I pull her back until our chests are flush against one another, then she starts to laugh, and I adore the sound. I’d keep it in a jar if I could and present it on my office desk to be reminded every day.
“Come on.” I beckon with my head. “Let”s put you to bed.”
When she doesn’t move, I stand from the small sofa and carry her in my arms to her bed, tucking her beneath the sheets.
“Wait,” she mumbles, latching onto my wrist. “Stay. Please. I don’t want to be alone.”
I flick my eyes over her pleading face. My chest crumbles. There is no way I could say no to her, but at the same time, I want her to be sober while making these decisions. I would never want to push her boundaries and take advantage of them just because she’s drunk.
“Until you fall asleep,” I eventually land on.
Instead of getting in the bed, I lay on top of the sheets. I face the way she’s sleeping and watch her eyes flutter open and shut. She’s trying her hardest to stay awake, but I know the alcohol will claim her soon.
When she opens her eyes again, she scowls in my direction. She doesn’t look mad; she looks drunk-mad. “Why are you so far away from me?”
I chuckle to myself and shuffle closer. “Where do you want me, Ava?”
“I want to lay my head on your chest,” she slurs through tired words.
“Okay,” I whisper and move until she curls into my side and rests her head on my chest. I wrap my arm around her back and stare up at the ceiling.
She giggles softly. “I can hear your heartbeat.”
“Yeah? Is it racing?”
“No, it’s calm,” she admits.
I hum softly. “Because you make me feel at peace, Ava.”
She stays silent for a few moments, and when I think she’s finally asleep, she says, “D-do you wish I was her?”
“Huh?”
Those eyes are half-closed as she speaks.
“Julia,” she whispers. “Do you wish I was her?”
Her expression is nearly emotionless. It’s a genuine question. I can’t help but pull my brows into a deep frown. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because she was your first mate. Because you love her.” She pauses. “Now, I’ve come into your life, and I wonder if you wish she was still alive and you never met me. That we could somehow swap.”
Her confession has my heartstrings tugging in the wrong way. Grief is a complicated emotion. Although since Ava has walked into my life, I’ve found her bond has helped me grow out of my depressive state. I wanted to be present throughout her recovery. I wanted nothing more than to be a good mate.
“I am her replacement,” she whispers sadly.
“No.” I shake my head. “You’re not. I don’t wish you were Julia. You came into my life for a reason. I don’t expect you to understand, but I’m trying, I’m really trying. None of this has been easy for me, but I’ve loved spending time with you, getting to know you, and letting our bond grow authentically.”
Her eyes quickly look down to my lips and then back into my eyes. “How long were you together again?”
“Two years.”
“You must really miss her.”
Of course, I miss her. I will always love her, but that doesn’t mean my limit for love stops there. The word has complex conventions, and I’ve been trying to figure out my brain for the last few months while Ava adjusts to this new world.
“I do miss her,” I admit. “But my heart didn’t halve when I lost her. It doubled when I met you.”
A slight smile plasters across her exhausted face. Her eyes close once more, and she rests it back on my chest. I release a soft sigh. I wish when she wakes up, she doesn’t regret this conversation or choosing to be this close to me. If she even remembers it at all.
When I wake up,I’m in my own bed. I had the willpower and all my morals to leave when she fell asleep. Despite it being difficult, I knew it was the right thing to do.
An unsettling feeling in my stomach has me shooting up in my bed. I groan when a sharp pain races to my throat. I clutch the skin and realise nothing is happening to my body. It’s Ava’s body.
I leap out of bed and rush down the hall to find Ava’s door ajar. The sound of retching has me barging into the bathroom to find her on her knees next to the toilet, groaning before throwing up last night”s cocktails, I presume. The fluorescent orange colour makes me slightly nauseous.
My knees hit the floor beside her, and I gather her hair into my hand and rub her back in soothing motions. “Hey,” I say softly. “It’s okay. Get it up. You’ll feel so much better afterwards.”
She throws up a few more times before groaning again, and then falls back onto her ass and wipes her mouth with the corner of her hand. Her hair is a mess and the makeup she didn’t take off last night is smeared across every inch of her face.
I lean up to flush the toilet and grab the half-drunk water from last night. “Here, drink some. Hydrate yourself.”
She sighs uncomfortably before taking a sip and spitting it out into the toilet to wash out her mouth, then she finally takes a few gulps. “Thanks,” she whimpers.
“How are you feeling?”
Ava’s brown eyes stare at me for a long second. “Are you seriously asking me that question?”
I laugh softly when I know I shouldn’t, but this moment is far too adorable. “Sorry if we woke you up last night. I’m sure we were pretty loud coming in.”
My brows raise at her statement. “You don’t remember?”
Her face pales even more. “Remember what?”
“Us talking for ages.” I tilt my head with amusement. “Me putting you to bed, you asking me to stay? I didn’t by the way. I waited until you were asleep before leaving you.”
“Oh, God,” she murmurs and presses a hand to her forehead. “Oh, God!”
She glances around the bathroom frantically as if trying to remember what happened. “D-did I say anything embarrassing?”
“No,” I reassure her, and she breathes out a sigh of relief. “But–”
Her eyes widen in suspense as I carry on.
“You did call me a fine specimen,” I tease with a grin.
“Screw my life.” She throws her head into her hands, attempting to hide herself.
I tug at one of her wrists lightly. “Don’t worry,” I say, finding her mortified eyes again. “I think you’re a fine specimen, too.”