Page 105 of The Hookup Type

“Mace.” I knew his voice before I even looked up at him. It was like a warm blanket being draped over me, and I was sure I could pick it out of any crowd.

Jaxon stared at me with dark green eyes, and my shoulders relaxed.

“Sorry.” I swallowed. “I just needed some air.”

Jaxon let out an exasperated laugh and ran his hand through his short hair. He crossed his arms and leaned against the brick exterior of the building. He shook his head and glanced down the street, almost like he was annoyed with something.

“What’s the matter?” I took a few steps toward him and stopped when he looked back at me.

“You just don’t pay attention,” he snapped.

I felt myself getting angry all over again. I didn’t understand where this attitude was coming from. “What are you talking about?”

He lifted his body from the wall and closed the space between us. “You don’t pay attention to anything going on around you. You can’t just run out here lookinglike thatby yourself.” He looked up and down the sidewalk for emphasis as more groups of people passed us.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You're comfortable,” he stated. He took a deep breath, and I could see his patience waning as the conversation continued. “It seems I can’t help this pattern I have for looking out for you.”

I wasn’t sure why his reaction to follow me irritated me even more. I had to reel in my instinct to snap at him and reminded myself that this anger had nothing to do with Jaxon.

We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. I felt the heat in my ribcage subside, and it was replaced with the urge to fall into his chest and have him take me back to the condo. As I relished in my final straw with Bryson, I was reminded of how far Jaxon and I drifted apart after we decided to try and hook up.

“Why do you sound so upset?” I asked softly.

“I’m not.” The skin around his eyes went soft. “I just wished you paid more attention to things, that’s all.”

As I opened my mouth to respond, the doors behind us burst open and a rowdy group of people spilled onto the sidewalk. When my focus drifted back to Jaxon, he was staring at me.

“I’m sorry.” I glanced down at the pavement and felt both embarrassed and stupid. “Of course I’m lucky to have you looking out for me. I’m annoyed about something else, and I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“Kennedy?” he deadpanned.

My eyes shot up, and my stomach sank at his expression. His features were no longer soft, and his mouth formed a hard line.

Jaxon averted his attention toward the entrance and met Bryson’s hand with his. They shook the way guys do before Jaxon slipped past him to head back inside.

“Everything okay?” Bryson asked. He quickly glanced behind him and held up a finger to Brad and two girls waiting outside a taxi. I followed his gaze and felt my face twist into a scowl.

“What’s up?” He read my expression and returned the gesture. “I’ll see you when I get back to the condo.”

An exasperated laugh escaped my chest, and I shook my head. “Don’t bother.”

“Don’t bother?” He looked confused at my reaction, and rage bubbled up in my chest. I had so much of it that I thought I was going to implode on the sidewalk. But this time, it was spewing in different directions.

One spew was directed right at Bryson, and it grew more prominent the longer the disgusted look on his face festered into my memory. A small spew shot into whatever direction Jaxon stalked off in. I had no idea what suddenly caused his mood to shift when he was fine only moments ago on the dance floor. But the last of my rage was aimed right at myself.

“What’s your problem?” he prompted when I said nothing back. “I can still see you later tonight.”

“I’m tired, Bryson.” I swallowed around the lump forming in my throat. Jaxon had followed me out here, and Bryson was only having this conversation with me because he saw me on the way out. “Please don’t come to my room when you get back from”—I gestured toward the car—“wherever you are going.”

I turned to walk back into the club, and he grabbed my forearm.

“Why do you act like this?” he asked.

“I’m done being treated like an option,” I admitted. A weight I didn’t know was there lifted from my chest. “I should’ve never started this with you.”

He sighed and dropped my hand. “Whatever, Maci.” Before he turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of his face. He didn’t look upset or annoyed—or even disappointed. He just looked done.

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