Page 82 of Jax

Jax nodded.

“And in the barn, I couldn’t stand you being in pain. I couldn’t stand that you were hurt in the past. That I was so cruel to you despite how fragile you had become. I was mean and a dick, and I wish I could go back and punch myself in the face for how I acted, but I can’t. And I knew that night what I was feeling for you wasn’t just friendship. I accepted it then. But you were hurt and then you wore Mint’s jacket and I was jealous and—”

“Just a jacket made you jealous?” I scoffed, unable to help myself. “It’s just a piece of material.”

“Wearing a guy’s name on your back is not a little thing, Ronnie,” Jax growled, causing my heart to stop. He fixed me with such an intense glare that it was like being transported straight back to that night when he had seen Mint’s jacket on my back, and Mint had immediately taken a step back from him and offered an apology. Looks like that jacket did mean a lot more to him that I understood.

“But you made me wear your jacket…,” I whispered, remember feeling the weight of the leather that night and in the morning. It’s warmth and creases and scent of oil and beer marked me with his scent so well that he might as well have peed on my leg. From what he just told me, it looked like it was the same thing.

“Because you’re my girl, Ronnie.” Jax released my hand as he reached up to touch my face. The length of his palm cupping my cheek, sending tingling warmth across my face and down to my chest where my heart had upgraded from a nervousness to a heavyba-dum. The movie kind of heart throbbing that made my free hand clutch to his, unsure whether to push it away to get rid of that feeling or hold it closer and cling to the moment.

“You’re kidding.”

Jax shook his head. “You asked me if I ever regretted leaving?”

I asked him that the night of the barn, but…

” You said you didn’t.”

“And I still don’t.”

“But—”

“But.” Jax cut me off, eyes darting across my face, reading me like an open book, which was currently being scribbled all over in black marker. I couldn’t make sense of where he was leading me, and I was sure he could see that.

“There is one thing I regret.” Jax gave me a sad shrug, tilting his head to one side, a breath paused on his lips. He took a moment, eyes looking into mine, not looking away, not letting me go. and then he spoke. “I don’t regret leaving,” he whispered. “But I regret leaving you behind.”

My heart stopped. Tears welled in my eyes. The world began spinning.

I just stared at him shaking my head.

“You’re lying,” I breathed, my voice wobbling to my surprise. The longer he looked into my eyes, head shaking at my question the more I felt that deep hope, the hope I had buried a long time ago.

It couldn’t happen. He couldn’t regret leaving me. He couldn’t feel that way. Not now. Not after all this time.

This was a moment I had only dreamed of since I had set my eyes on him. My love for him from child to adult had only grown, even when apart. Hearing him tell me this kind of thing….

“I’m not lying.”

“Then I’m dreaming,” I persisted, feeling the resilience I had held onto all this time, knowing, being certain, that Jax had been hurt when I didn’t go with him but didn’t regret leaving me behind.

“Crying,” Jax whispered, a contained smile breaking out on his face as his thumb brushed away a wet tear I hadn’t even known fell. “But not dreaming.”

The throb that choked out of my closed throat had my chest aching with that long-forgotten bruise as I threatened to collapse on top of him. “You really want to be with me?”

“I do.”

“Really? Truly?”

Jax smiled, leaning in close to my face. “Really truly.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his other hand pulling mine up close to his face and pressing the softest, gentlest kiss to my fingers.

“If you’ll forgive me for being such a dick, all this time,” Jax whispered, the slight tremor in his own voice slipping through. “Then I want you to be with me. I want you to give me a try.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Jax mimicked, the word haven come out of my mouth so quickly that not even I realized I had said it. But it didn’t change my answer. In fact, it only solidified it as all the resistance, the fight to accept that this was reality, that this was really happening came out in that one single, gushing answer.

I want to be with him.

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