Page 47 of Savage

Jaxon was looking at me with a tortured expression. “The first movie that made me cry—ET,” he said softly. And I realised, even though it was twisted, that was Jaxon’s version of an olive branch. And no matter how temporary that may be, I took it.

My eyes roamed over his face, my earlier annoyance evaporating, my expression serine.

He retained eye contact and then shrugged his shoulders, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. I could see that he regretted how he’d spoken to me.

“Me too,” I replied softly. “So that’s at least one thing we have in common.”

He nodded before running a hand down his face as if he was trying to wake himself up suddenly.

Our gazes remained tied together for a moment longer. A look of understanding passed between us.

Revelling in the moment and not wanting anything to spoil it, I turned and left the room in silence. He didn’t come after me or say anything else, but I could feel his eyes on my back as I left the room.

So many conflicting emotions were pulsating through me. I was indeed falling for the enemy. And the realisation of that terrified me.

Later that night I called Dominic, determined to keep Jaxon out of my thoughts. Our chat was brief and I couldn’t hear him half of the time. It sounded like he was at an event or a party. He said his stay in Paris may be extended by another week.

Once he told me I realised two key things. I didn’t care that he wasn’t coming back as originally expected and I hadn’t missed him. Not even slightly.

*****

The next couple of days whooshed by and I still hadn’t heard from Jaxon about my article. I had completed what I hoped was the final version and had slipped it under his door the night before. I had also emailed a copy to Dominic who had read it whilst he was still in Paris. He’d replied with a thumbs up. The following week I would submit it to Jessica, proud of what I had created irrespective of it being published.

I did hope Jaxon appreciated what I had written and could see that I had been extremely thorough in my research of life in the army and how mental health was affected in this type of environment.

Pushing thoughts of Jaxon away, I moved away from the rain-splattered window in my bedroom. Considering it was summer, the weather was horrendous and I’d fallen into a pit of boredom. Dominic was taking ages to reply to my texts. My realisation that I hadn’t missed him made me want to try harder. I knew he was working, but Amy’s comment about one of the photographers harassing one of the models kept circling my head like a shark’s fin. I refused to allow myself to believe Dominic would be any part of that type of drama but his silence was worrying.

Daisy and Marcus had gone to visit Jenna and Nixon’s baby later than intended. Daisy had explained that they were having tests to see if there was an issue with them conceiving. My mother’s brother, Adrian had invited them to stay at the farm for a few days.

My friend Melody had come over purposefully so that we could use the pool but no such luck. It was still pissing it down and I wasn’t one to go swimming in the rain.

Being out of options, we both chilled out in my room and went through possible outfits for me to wear to my cousin's forthcoming wedding. One I would probably have to attend alone like a proper loser. Not knowing if Dominic would make it now.

After pulling out most of my wardrobe. Melody and I eventually gave up and I started to look online via my iPhone. It appeared I needed something new.

“Fuck me—your brother had his music loud,” Melody suddenly declared as she finished painting her thumb with bright red nail polish. The exact colour she had suggested my dress for the wedding should be. After what I had done to Jaxon in the kitchen, I had to agree with her. Red: The colour of the harlot! I hadn’t plucked up the guts to tell her what had happened yet.

Dropping my phone and rubbing my hands together, I glanced toward my door in disgust. “Stepbrother,” I corrected her. “He’ll probably be deaf by the time he’s thirty.”

“Who cares with that smoking hot body? I wonder what it would be like to be held in those giant arms?” Melody whined in a yearning voice. It didn’t bother me as I knew she secretly liked Chris.

“I bet he’s a shit cuddler,” I replied sourly. Still hating that this thing between us hadn’t yet been defined or acknowledged. Now I just felt foolish, Jaxon’s crush comment grating on my nerves.

As we sat in my bedroom, attempting to drown out the sound of Jaxon’s angry music spewing across the landing, Melody drew a clear bag from her rucksack. I wasn’t stupid, I knew that the green straw-like content was weed.

She surprised me as I didn’t know she was into that type of stuff. I’d only tried it once before and had pulled a whitey. I’d been at my Cousin Amy’s house at the time and she’d bought some from a guy at the stables where she used to work. I remember feeling paranoid, my heart attempting to claw its way out of my chest. It hadn’t been the best experience. Let’s just say I’d made a huge fool of myself and so never bothered with it since. I’d smelled it in the house before and so imagined Chris indulged himself sometimes. Clever, geeky types needed some way to wind down. It wouldn’t have been Jaxon, as he was a soldier and I knew how strict the army was about drugs.

“You fancy it?” Melody said with a wiggle of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. I shoved off my bed and joined her on the floor, eyeing the substance like it was poison.

“I only tried it once and it didn’t go that well for me,” I replied truthfully. Her brow furrowed.

“That’s probably because of the quality of the shit you smoked. This is good stuff; you won’t have a problem with this.”

A silence fell between us as I assessed the situation. Yes, my mother and Marcus were still away but Jaxon and Chris were in. Too risky maybe? I’d be mortified if either one of them witnessed me stoned. Talk about being caught with your pants down.

Melody rolled her eyes. “Look, it’s up to you, no pressure. You said your mum and stepdad are away until tomorrow night. It would be a shame not to use the time to party. Maybe we could hit your stepdad’s bar and have a few drinkies? Dance around the room in our underwear? Pillow fight?” She’d perked up, now a blender of reckless ideas. Pillow fight indeed. That thing that all girls supposedly indulged themselves in during girly sleepovers; in the perverse minds of boys anyway.

Melody was so vivacious and full of life. She knew how to have fun and did it safely. She wasn’t one of those girls to go out and get shitfaced and sleep with the first munter who hit on her. She partied hard, but she was classy with it. I felt like a huge dull dud in comparison.

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