Page 25 of Tactical Revival

I’ve been in here a few times since he moved in, but with the nerves churning in my belly. I take a moment to study the room, averting my gaze in hopes it will help ease the discomfort that has me wanting to run right back out the door.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, then crosses over and takes a seat on the edge of his made bed to put on boots.

“I want to start by apologizing.”

He arches a brow. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“No, I do. You’ve never been anything but kind and helpful, and it wasn’t my intention to make you think I thought little of you or your offer.”

“I didn’t think you did,” he replies. “I just figured you were like your brother—stubborn.”

He flashes me a grin that completely disarms me. “I don’t want Michael or my parents to know that I’m having trouble. I never told them about—” I take a deep breath. I have to trust that he won’t divulge my secrets. “Chad took out a credit card in my name, and I’ve been treading water ever since. I made some big payments to it, which drained my savings account, and then I was hit with?—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he interrupts as he gets to his feet. “We’re friends and you could use—not need—the help.”

“I need it,” I reply. “Or I’m going to lose this place.”

“Tell me what you need.”

“Before we get to that, I want to tell you that if you decide you can’t help me, it’s okay. I can try and get a bank loan, sell my car, whatever I need to do. I don’t want this to affect our friendship.”

“Friendship.” His tone makes the word feel weighted. Unfamiliar. As though it’s not enough to describe what we are together. But before I can think too strongly on it, he nods. “Not a problem.”

“Okay. I also would like to invite you to dinner tonight. I’m making baked salmon and vegetables with cheddar biscuits.”

“Count me in.” His grin is so adorable that I respond with one of my own. “I’ll grab dessert.”

“Deal.”

“And tell Matty to bring out his chess board. I can show him how to really play.”

I laugh. “He’ll like that.”

“Good.” Our gazes hold a moment, and I’m unable to tear mine away, no matter how badly I know I need to. We still have things to talk about, and the way Jaxson is looking at me, the intensity in his gaze, is making me feel things I have no business feeling.

Want.

Need.

Desire.

I clear my throat. “We can discuss details after Matty goes to bed. If that works for you.”

“Just tell me how much, Margot. I don’t need anything other than that.”

“But—”

“Just the amount. I’ll grab a cashier’s check today.”

“Jaxson—” It’s happening too fast, right? Like, he’s just going to go pick up money now? Shouldn’t I tell him what it’s for? How I plan to pay him back?

He moves in close enough that the scent of his bodywash fills my lungs. Cedar and a hint of salt. It’s intoxicating. “I don’t need details,” he repeats. “I know you and I want to help. Just let me help.”

“It’s more than what you saw.”

“Not a problem. Give me the amount.”

I close my eyes, embarrassment flushing my cheeks. “Nineteen thousand, seven hundred and fifty-two dollars.” Opening my eyes, I look up at him, searching for any sign that he’s backing out.

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