Chapter 31 We Look Out For Our Own
Savannah
My eyes blinked open reluctantly, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains in warm streaks that cut across the room. For a second, I didn’t move—just laid there, caught somewhere between sleep and consciousness, trying to piece together where I was.
This wasn’t my bed.
And that definitely wasn't my ceiling.
The sheets were different. The scent was different—clean, but distinctly him.
And then it hit me.
The rain.
The argument.
The confession.
I’m in love with you.
A small smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it, my eyes closing again briefly as the memory replayed in flashes that felt almost unreal.
Because it was unreal.
I wasn’t the girl who showed up in the middle of a storm, soaked and unraveling at someone’s doorstep. I wasn’t the girl who said things like that without a carefully constructed plan behind it.
Yet here we were.
And I couldn't have been any happier.
My smile deepened slightly at that, something warmer settling in my chest. I felt like a totally new person, as ridiculous as that sounded.
If someone told me three weeks ago that I'd be waking up in Jaxon Cage’s bed after screaming “I love you” at him, I'd have told them they were drinking something stronger than moonshine.
But as chaotic as last night was, it was perfect in every way possible. There was nothing controlled about it—nothing calculated, no playing it safe, just… real. It was messy and terrifying, but Jaxon made it worth it.
He definitely showed me that last night.
The thought made me blush. I stretched slowly, arms lifting above my head, then winced slightly at the dull ache between my thighs. There was yet to be a promise that man had not fulfilled, and yep—walking anywhere today was going to be a challenge.
My gaze drifted around the room, taking in the details. It was very… him. Dark furniture filled the room, offset by red accents and the red brick walls. Floor-to-ceiling window panes made it look bright and open, and there were pieces of his life scattered everywhere if you looked closely enough.
Curiosity nudged at me.
Carefully, I pushed the covers back and slid out of bed, the cool air brushing against my skin as I reached for the first thing within arm’s reach—his shirt. I slipped it on, the fabric soft and oversized, falling mid-thigh as I adjusted it absently.
I moved around the room slowly, letting my curiosity take over. Photos lined parts of the walls and shelves, enough to tell a story:
Jaxon and Benji in a boxing ring, both of them grinning like idiots despite what looked like fresh bruises.
Another of him with Nerissa, Jesse, and Ari at a bowling alley—Ariyo mid-laugh while Jesse threw the ball, chaos captured perfectly in still form.
A beach photo with everyone laughing and playing volleyball on the sand. I found myself smiling at the friendship they built together, my fingers brushing lightly over the frame before I moved on.
Him and Jesse at a hockey game, proudly wearing the colors of the Tridents.
My breath caught just slightly as my gaze fixed on a different photo.
Lyra.
I remembered her face, but even if I didn't, she looked just like him.
Same eyes. Same light brown hair. Same crinkle at the nose when she smiled.
The background was familiar, too, and my chest tightened faintly as recognition settled in.
Cicero Landing, the same place Jaxon and I had our first date.
They looked so happy—his arm around her shoulders, grinning carefree into the camera. For a moment, I just stood there, taking it in, wishing she had more time.
Sighing, I moved back to the bed when I noticed my phone plugged in on the nightstand. The considerate behaviors of this man should be studied. A small smile pulled at my lips as I walked over, reaching for it, but something else caught my attention first.
A sketchbook lay in the open drawer, the page slightly visible. He must've been working on a tattoo drawing before I came over last night. It made me think of the one he asked for my opinion on before. My hand reached for it instead, hesitating for half a second before curiosity won.
I picked it up, settling back onto the edge of the bed as I flipped it open, and froze at the sight. My breath caught as I stared down at the page, at the drawing of… me. He sketched me from the engagement party, and it was breathtaking.
The way my hair fell. The slight furrow in my brows. The curve of my waist. The outline of my lavender dress. The hard look in my eyes.
It was me.
Not a single detail out of place.
I turned the page and another sketch of me sprung up. And another. Then another. There were dozens of sketches with me taking center stage, each one capturing something different—me laughing, me studying, me dancing with Nerissa. He captured it all.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, taking in the precise details.
My fingers slowed as I flipped to another page and stilled. This one was different—partially done, and it was me looking over my bare shoulder. There was a detail that I definitely didn't have.
Inked across my left shoulder blade was a tattoo: a compilation of white roses along a swirling branch, the silhouette of black butterflies and the looming moon.
My breath hitched slightly as I traced the lines with my eyes.
I never thought about getting a tattoo before but seeing this…
it made me wonder how intimate it would be to get inked by him.
A deep laugh echoed from somewhere outside the room, pulling me out of my risky thoughts. I blinked, the moment breaking away as I quickly closed the sketchbook and set it back in the drawer. Then I took a steady breath, shaking my head and slipping into a pair of his boxers.
I ran my fingers through my hair in a half-hearted attempt to make myself look presentable before walking out.
Low voices carried faintly down the hall, grounded and steady, pulling me forward without much thought.
I followed the sound.
And then I saw him.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, phone pressed to his ear, one hand braced behind him as he spoke in that playful, confident tone I was starting to enjoy. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of gray sweatpants—and ladies, yes, it's just as sexy as they say.
His eyes found me immediately and he froze.
Dark eyes slowly trailed down my body, taking in the oversized shirt, the boxers, the bare legs, before lifting back to meet mine. Heat curled low in my stomach under his intense stare, but I didn’t stop walking.
“…yeah, I know,” he was saying into the phone, distracted now, his attention clearly split.
“No, I got you. I owe you one.”
I furrowed my brows slightly as I closed the distance between us.
Owe who?
The second I was close enough, his free hand found mine—fingers sliding between mine like it was the most natural thing in the world—before he wrapped our intertwined arms around my waist and pulled me flush against him.
“Yeah, tell her thanks for me, too,” he continued, voice quieter now as his thumb brushed absent circles against my side. “Hey, listen, I’ll call you later.”
He didn’t wait for a response before hanging up and dropping the phone on the counter.
A slow smile spread across his face. “Morning.”
“Hi.” I felt my own lips curve slightly.
His gaze dipped again, clearly appreciating his own clothes on me.
“Gotta say, trouble,” he added, voice low, his hands drifting down my back and squeezing my ass, “my stuff looks good on you.”
I huffed softly, rolling my eyes even as heat crept up my neck. “You’re insufferable.”
“Mhm,” he hummed, completely unbothered. “That wasn't the word you were using last night.”
My lips pressed together as I shot him a look. “Don’t start.”
That only made his smirk deepen.
“You screamed my name so loud I think—”
“Jaxon!”
“There it is. Yep, exactly like that.”
I shook my head and tried to pull away, but his grip didn't loosen.
“Okay, okay, I'll behave,” he swore, but the proud smile on his lips promised mischief.
“Good boy.”
His eyes darkened and he raised a brow at me as he tugged me closer. “Trouble, no doubt you're sore right now, but if you call me that again, I'm bending you over on this counter so you see how much of a good boy I can be.”
My fingers tightened slightly in his shirt, willing my body to melt at the very thought. How could I still be sore and aching for him at the same time?
“So.” I cleared my throat, tone shifting just a fraction. “Who do you owe a favor to?”
He let out a quiet laugh at that, the sound low and warm as his hands finally slid back up to rest at my waist.
“I'll tell you over breakfast. Trust me, you're gonna need food for that one.”
Now it was my turn to raise a brow.
“Why does that sound like I should be concerned?”
He brushed a thumb across my waist and leaned in to peck my lips.
“Let's just say Lori shouldn't have poked the bear.”
“What does that mean? Wait, did you—”
“Food. Sit.”
I gasped when he slapped my ass, which had him chuckling deeply. He moved around the counter, grabbing a plate and a fork, pointing it at me then at the barstool. I rolled my eyes and moved to sit, watching him fix a plate with waffles, eggs, toast, and sausages.
Then he poured a cup of coffee.
“Unfortunately, since you took me by surprise last night, I don't have any cinnamon.”
“That's okay, as long as it's not that terrible black coffee you love,” I said, shrugging. “How do you have a sweet tooth and love that cup of bitterness?”
He laughed and finished adding milk and sugar to the coffee before sliding it to me.
“Easy. Sweet treats usually end up in bed with me.” He smirked. “Listen, I've got to head to the studio for a bit. Wanna come?”
“Sure.”
“Right answer,” he said, smirking slightly.
A small smile tugged at my lips, and a familiar ease surrounded us. That dangerous, disarming ease that made everything feel… just right.
I picked up my fork, glancing at him. “Are you going to tell me what this favor is or what?”
“Oh yeah.” He pushed off the counter and grabbed his phone before circling the island. Pulling out the barstool beside me, he sat close with his legs wide.
“Don't know if you remember, but I have a client—Wolfe. His younger sister just happens to be a fucking genius with tech. Hacking, digging things up, the works.”
I paused mid-bite, one brow arching. “Hacking?”
“Mhm, and I had her do some digging on Lori.”
There was something in his tone that made me set the fork down.
“Your cousin doesn't hide her skeletons very well. Here, see for yourself.”
He glanced down at his phone, swiping through something before sliding it across the counter toward me. I hesitated for half a second before picking it up.
And holy freaking hell.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I breathed.
Staring up at me was the secret of all secrets—one that would destroy Lori and Chase in one fatal blow.
I thought Lori held all the cards before.
Turns out, she was playing checkers while my man was playing chess.
The engine cut, and the sudden quiet felt louder than the ride over. I swung my leg off the bike carefully and winced with every stretch until my boots hit the ground.
Jaxon didn’t even try to hide his amusement, a low chuckle echoing through the helmet as he pulled off his gloves.
“Not. One. Word.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he said, but I could hear the laughter in his voice. The pride, too.
He dismounted and reached over to unfasten my helmet before sliding it off. Cool air hit my face instantly, and I took a small breath, watching as he pulled his own off right after. And of course he was grinning.
I shot him a look, and he leaned in to kiss my scowl. Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, his hand found mine.
We walked into the studio, and I was surprised everyone was there on a Saturday morning.
Nerissa and Ari were mid-conversation, both of them animated—hands moving, voices overlapping like neither of them planned on letting the other finish a sentence.
Jesse sat nearby, his attention locked on Nerissa.
Benji stood off to the side, dressed like he had somewhere important to be with his focus buried in his phone.
Nerissa’s head snapped up at the sound of the door and her expression shifted instantly.
“Girl—” she started, already moving toward me.
I blinked. “Hi?”
She pointed a finger straight at me. “Don't you walk in here saying hi like everything is okay.”
I frowned, caught off guard. “What—?”
“We were all freaking out!” she cut in, her voice rising as she gestured wildly. “You disappeared in the middle of a storm, nobody could reach you, Benji was losing it—we all were!”
My grip on Jaxon’s hand tightened slightly as her words sank in.
“Oh.”
Right.
That.
Guilt crept in almost immediately.
“I—my phone died,” I said quickly, glancing over at Benji, my expression softening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
Which was the problem.
I didn’t.
Because I wasn’t used to it.
Wasn’t used to people noticing when I was gone. Wasn’t used to anyone worrying enough for it to matter.
For so long, it had just been—
Me.
“I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” I admitted, quieter now as I looked back at Nerissa.
Her expression shifted instantly, and before I could say anything else, she stepped forward and pulled me into a tight hug.
“It is a big deal, hun,” she said firmly. “To us, we look out for our own, and like it out not, you're one of us. We’re family.”
Something in my chest tightened at that.
Family.
I always had my grandma, but everyone else in my family felt estranged. They didn't care about my wellbeing, only the connections that came with it. So this—the no-strings-attached type of concern—was new to me, but definitely not unwelcome.
I swallowed, my arms coming up to hug her back.
“Yeah, okay,” I said quietly.
“And you!” Nerissa released me and slapped Jaxon's arm. “You should know better.”
“Why do you hit so fucking hard?” he grumbled, rubbing the bruised area. “Rissa, she was fine.”
“We didn't know that, asshole.”
“Benji—”
“Your words to Benji were ‘she's fine, we're fine, go away’. You inconsiderate ass,” she added, punctuating every word with a hit. “Honestly, men are so stupid sometimes.”
“We were a little busy,” Jaxon added, his lips curling into a smirk.
Nerissa moved to slap him again and he jumped out of the way.
“Easy, you tiny devil. I've suffered enough. Besides, Benji forgives me. Right, B?”
Benji didn't respond.
“Won.”
No response.
“Silent treatment. Real mature.”
“I really am sorry, Benji,” I offered.
He gave me a small smile as he raised the phone to his ear. “Don't worry, Sav, I forgive you.”
“Hey! What about me?”
Benji walked to the back, heading to Jaxon's office, and I giggled at Jaxon's dumbfounded look.
“I'm sorry, too! Oh, come on, Benji.”
The door shut behind him, and everyone laughed.