Page 136 of The Last Good Man

Before long, a whiff of aftershave travels upstairs.

He doesn’t look in my direction, although I’m convinced he’s headed this way.

I could take the stairs and just meet him downstairs.

I wait, mostly because my feet refuse to move, and Ihold this strange beliefthat standing at the top of the stairs gives me some advantage.

When he moves up the stairs, my breaths turn shallow, and my heartbeats become erratic.

My so-called advantage vanishes when he walks the last few steps and raises his intense gaze to me.

Infinite power sparkles in his eyes while their fire is locked away.

The last step puts him next to me, and I clutch the balustrade, dazed.

He’s dressed differently tonightlikehe put some thought into his appearance.It could be because of me, it could be because he wanted to impress the doctor, or it could be a coincidence.

It’skind ofstrange that the three of us have dressed with suchgreatcare tonight.

He wears black pants, nice shoes, and a dark wool zippered jacket. The collar is popped, so I can’t tell whether he wears a dress shirt underneath, a long-sleeved top, or a T-shirt.

His clothes are pressed and fall over his body like they’ve been custom-fitted.

His eyes don’t move over me, although my trench is open, and my dress and shoes are on display.

I can’t say I gape at him,butIdip my gaze a few times.Every time I do that and bring my eyes back, I find his stare on my face.

“Jax…” I say as he doesn’t react, his demeanor throwing me off.

“Melody.”

At least he remembers my name. There is no smile on his face, and considering the circumstances in which we left things off last Sunday, it feels pointless to start a dialogue.

As the door opens, there is no time to say another word, anyway, as a hand slides swiftly to the light switch.

“They said they’d fixed the lights,” Aretha says, turning them on.

A bright glow floods the stairwell while Jax moves his eyes to her.

The moment could quickly become awkward if I stalled and stared, or even worse if I hinted that I knew her client.

She could pick up on some nonverbal clues and have questions for me next time we meet.

So I try to avoid all that, pretending I have no idea who the man next to me is, not looking at him as if I’ve never encountered a good-looking man in my life, and, more importantly, moving along as if there’s nothing there to see.

“Oh, thank you so much,” I say, completely ignoring Jax. “That is so much better,” I add, my eyes on her.

For some reason, she seems restless, her eyes searching mine, but I smile cluelessly, not hinting at her that I know the man.

Is she worried that two of her clients have run into each other?

Or does this new Dr. Stenson want Jax only for herself?

I don’t have time to dwell on it.

I’m annoyed, but I smile charmingly, not glancing at him andnot surewhether he looks at me.

My money is on him not staring at me.

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