Page 103 of Right Number, Wrong Man
Frankly, I don’t think he cares if I shave or not, but the sensation of smooth skin makes me feel sexy. Iwantto be sexy for him—and for myself—but I suspect that my extensive date night preparations are the reason why I’m nervous.
Our first hookup was fueled by adrenaline andsurprise, leaving no capacity for doubt. But today, while I got myself dolled up, I had plenty of time to overthink.
I tug on my short pink dress. Mike always said it’s too slutty and what if Jax thinks the same? It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I can drive back home and change right now.
What am I waiting for?
I just have to knock on this door and let myself get dominated and fucked into mindless bliss. Lord knows I could use the relaxation after my encounter with the least cool serial killer in history, The Eyesnatcher.
There’s just one teeny-tiny problem:
Since Colt saved my life, I can’t stop thinking about him.
He’s the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last when I go to sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see the look on his face when he stormed into the bathroom.
I’m driving myself crazy trying to decipher that expression like there was a hidden message in the gentleness of his gaze and the firm set of his jaw. Unspoken words in a language I can’t translate.
I don’t remember the rest of that night all too clearly. Everything is a blur.
I know Colt knocked out Justin and I cried in his arms. I think I kicked Justin, too. The next thing I remember is curling up in bed with Gracie and sleeping like a rock until sunrise. I must have disassociated from shock.
In the morning, Colt came to check on me and pick up Gracie. He had dark bags under his eyes and a butterfly bandage on his cheek. Yawning, he handed me an iced raspberry macchiato and a muffin, promising everything was taken care of.
I believed him. Still do, even if he refused to reveal any details.
Colt gave me the week off with full pay and he bringsme breakfast every morning. But each time we say a polite goodbye over coffee to-go and baked goods in a paper bag, it gets harder to watch him walk away.
Is that why it feels strange to meet up with Jax?
I snort. No way. I’m reading too much into things. Hidden messages in Colt’s gaze? What’s next, him riding topless down my street on a white horse with a boombox on his shoulder, blastingI Want It That Wayunder my window?
Earth to Hailey: Not everything is a sign and I’m not the main character in an early 2000s romance flick.
Colt is doing his duty as my brother-in-law. We might’ve made up and hedidsave my life, but I have no reason to feel weird about hooking up with Jax.
This is none of Colt’s business. It’s not like we’re…dating.
I’m single, ready to mingle, and that’s something I should enjoy. It’s something Iwillenjoy. Yes, I will. I totally, absolutely will enjoy the incredible sex I’m about to have and I will not think about Colt. No. Not once. It stops right now.
I take a deep breath.
Shit. I’m still thinking about him.
Stop thinking about Colt.Stop it!
I slap my forehead. The harder I try not to think of him, the more I?—
The door swings open and the view bashes every thought from my head except one:
I should’ve knocked.
This isthe first time I’m seeing Jax topless in real life, and somehow, he’s even more beautiful than on video. If hestands still, I could mistake him for a statue painstakingly carved from stone by a very talented Renaissance artist, who definitely shed some tears when gazing upon his perfect creation.
Jax’s dark jeans hang low on his hips and the black hood of his mask bunches around his broad shoulders. Two small, round scars dot the left side of his stomach, distracting me from his abs. I never noticed them in his vids.
Are those old bullet wounds?
“Were you plannin’ to stand out here all night?” he asks, the deep tone of his voice modulator making me flinch.
