Page 70 of Jump

I startle when his voice is close, and spin to find him leaning against my doorframe, his arms folded, and his eyes glued to the gap in my gown I’ve yet to tie.

“I’m gonna keep finding you, Vivian. I won’t be able to help myself. So do us both a favor and love me back.” His eyes dance with humor while my hands shakily tie my robe. “I’m not done with you.”

Vivian

THANKSGIVING — NO THANK YOU

It’s as though Matt has made a game of being entirely, obnoxiously draped across me at any given public moment—his stone-etched declaration, I suppose—except when Axel Feeney is in the same room.

A girl could be insecure about that. Feel like she’s some kind of dirty secret. Something to be ashamed of. Hell, there’s a part of me that shrivels every time Axel visits our home and Matt becomes a cold, closed-off stranger again.

Because that’s not who he is, once you know his heart.

“Are you embarrassed by me?” We climb out of his truck in front of Axel and Hannah’s newly built home, and shiver in the freezing air that whips my hair from side to side. I carry a bottle of wine and a loaf of Turkish bread, since Hannah wanted help with neither dinner, nor dessert. She’s got that stuff on lock.

I hug the bottle between my arm and ribs, and look to Matt with a challenging scowl. “It’s like I have rabies the second Axel is nearby.”

“Fuck no.” He flings his arm across my shoulders and tugs me in tight to shield me from the chill in the air. But his hug is an easy action, considering it’s dark out, and Axel is tucked away inside his house, where he can’t see us.

“It’s actually a little game I like to play.” He glances down at me while leading me toward the porch steps. “He has no clue about us, Ana. And I kinda wanna see how long he proves to be the stupidest asshole in this town. It brings me a sick thrill.”

“I mean, I can understand if you’re just not ready to share this with him yet.” I soften my tone and try not to cause a fight just seconds before we walk inside. “He worked with you and Ainsley. And you blamed him for a long time for simply existing.” I grab his arm before he can use it to knock on Axel’s front door. Dragging him around, I force him to look into my eyes. “I get it, okay? Yours and Axel’s relationship differs from yours and everyone else’s. He was there with you and Ainsley, whereas the fighters and Hannah and them… weren’t. I don’t mind your reasons, Matt. I just want you to acknowledge them. It’s healthier that way.”

“I need you to stop comparing yourself to a woman who is no longer around to defend herself in an argument.” He tugs his hand from mine and knocks with three heavy thuds. But then he ducks in fast and smacks a kiss to the center of my lips. “It’s not what you think. So quit hurting your own feelings over something that isn’t real.”

“Then kiss me in front of him.” My pulse races, races, races as footsteps approach from inside the house. “If you’re healed and happy and ready to be with me, then I want you to kiss me in front of him.”

But the very thought makes my face burn. So I amend, “Or, ya know, just hug me, or introduce me as your…”

His what? What are we?

“My girlfriend?” he supplies, like he can read my mind. “You want me to shout it from the rooftops?”

“Not all rooftops.” I swallow the ball of nerves settled deep in my throat. “Just this rooftop. This one audience. Prove to me you’re okay.”

He snatches the bottle of wine from my arm just as the locks snick inside Axel’s home, then steps about three feet to the right, creating distance between us that sends a lance of rejection steeling through my blood.

The door opens, light spills onto the porch, and the scents from inside rush toward us until my stomach rumbles. But Axel’s friendly face only helps my mood drop.

He drags me in for a hug and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Happy thanksgiving, Viv.” Pulling back, he takes my bread and studies my forlorn expression. “It’s just one night with outside humans,” he coaxes, misinterpreting my demeanor. “Dinner, a drink or two, then you can escape again.” He releases me and looks toward his colleague—his boss—and scowls. “Lieutenant. Good to see you’ve stepped out of your crypt and graced us with your presence. It seems your antisocial ways have rubbed off on our sweet Vivian.”

“She’s her own woman, Feeney.” His voice is cold, the way I remember from before we became intimate. His tone, detached in a way I’d hoped was behind us. “You’re lucky she cares enough to come out at all. I know I don’t wanna be here.”

“And for that, I’m thankful.” He takes the bottle of wine and looks to me with a gentle ‘I’m so sorry we foisted this asshole on you’ smile. “Well, thankful for you, Viv. He was only invited because Hannah said we had to.”

“Don’t you tire of picking at each other?” Shaking my head, I start into the house and leave them both in my dust, because Axel wants a fight, and Matt’s clearly not as healed as he’d have me believe.

And today is Thanksgiving. So I’m supposed to choose gratitude over bitterness, right? “Hannah?”

“Kitchen!” she calls back. Her feet clip-clip-clip across tile so I know she’s wearing heels, which forces my gaze down to my jeans with a frown.

I didn’t realize this was a heels-worthy event. Didn’t know that going to my friend’s home for dinner meant formal attire and professional makeup.

Or maybe my insecurity is borne from Matt’s chilly change in mood.

I step into the kitchen and skid to a stop when I find not only my best friend, working the stove, but a half dozen others sitting at the counter, mid-gossip session, and watching me with various twinkles in their eyes.

“Uh…” My heart sits firmly lodged in my throat and makes it difficult to breathe. “Hi.” I look past them to Hannah. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was a—”

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