I took a deep breath and picked up the supplies, standing up. “Your brother is important to you, right?” I asked. “Jared, Madoc, Tate … Maybe someday you’ll see how lucky you really are or find something or someone you do care enough about.”
Maybe me, too, I thought as I walked to the cabinets, putting the materials away.
Nice and tidy, the way I had found them.
Light flashed through the room, and moments later I heard the thunder roll outside.
Shit. I still hadn’t called Shane.
I heard the cot creak behind me and knew Jax had stood up. “It’s raining,” he said. “I’ll give you a ride home. Come on.”
I turned to find him standing in the doorway, filling up the frame and slipping his gray T-shirt over his head, a tear and bloodstains visible on the material.
Jesus. I damn near gulped at the way his ab muscles flexed and the V underneath disappeared into his shorts. The shirt draped loosely over his stomach, but the dips and curves of his biceps took up every spare bit of space in his short sleeves. Tall, with just the right amount of muscle, he was perfect. And I’d bet every woman thought the same damn thing when she looked at him.
Sex.
I turned back to the cabinets, trying to slow my breathing and not think of Jax and me alone in a car.
“I’ll give you a ride home.” I shook my head. Yeah, hell to the no.
“That’s okay,” I mumbled with my back to him. “I’ll call Shane.”
“If you even think of putting your cousin on the road in this weather,” he threatened in a smooth, deep voice, “I may have to see what I can do to get you on your knees again today.”
My face fell, and my tongue went dry. Little shit.
“Don’t piss me off, K.C. I’ll be in front of the building in five minutes.”
And then he was gone.
Jax’s car used to be Jared’s. I’d seen it plenty over the years, and although it was older than Liam’s Camaro, it was definitely a hell of a lot tougher. Or maybe it just felt more solid. I don’t know. I remember being in Liam’s car, waiting at a stoplight and feeling as if the car’s engine was going to die or something. Just the way it puttered felt as though it was about to give out at any moment.
But, sitting in Jax’s black Mustang GT, I felt as if I were sitting in a turbo jet as solid as a bullet the way it glided effortlessly through the torrential downpour. Inside, the spotless black interior was dark and narrow, like being in a cave. Outside, the wind blew sheets of rain across the windshield. I had to squint to see, because the windshield wipers could barely keep up with the downpour.
But the car provided a haven from the rain pounding on the rooftop outside, and the spray under the tires was a distant echo.
Even though I was safe and warm, I couldn’t shake the nerves making the hair on my arms stand up. I clenched my skirt in my fists and looked at nothing out the window.
He was too close. And—I rubbed my fists down my warm thighs—he wasn’t close enough.
“Here.” Jax spoke up, startling me. He reached behind in the backseat and tossed me a towel. “It’s clean.”
Of course it was. Jax might get his hands dirty from time to time, but his clothes and his car—at least from what I’d seen on the outside—were always impeccably clean. Hell, even his house looked pristine when I’d been in there.
“Thanks,” I said as I caught it at my chest.
Something to do. Anything …
I reached down and brushed off the droplets of rain that had drenched my legs, and then slipped out of my flip-flops to pat my feet dry.
I hadn’t gotten completely soaked, and Jax had driven the car as close to the school as he could, but I still caught an onslaught of fat drops. My clothes were blotched with nickel-size circles, and some of my hair was sticking to my neck and shoulders.
Brushing up my thighs, I straightened my back against the seat and wiped the water off my bare arms.
But I was still shit out of luck.
He was watching me, and I could damn well feel it.
Turning around, I placed the towel in the backseat again and stilled when the grumbling of my stomach—evidence that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast—burst forth in the otherwise quiet car.
Shit. I twisted back around and fastened my seat belt, hoping he hadn’t heard it.
No such luck.
“Are you hungry?” Jax looked over at me. “I have some snacks if you want.”
“No, I’m fine,” I mumbled, not making eye contact.
But then my belly whirred again, and I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around my stomach, melting into the seat.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” he chuckled, and I opened my eyes to see him reaching behind the seat again and digging a container out of his duffel bag. “Eat,” he ordered, dumping a plastic Tupperware container in my lap.
I pursed my lips. Why did he have to sound so condescending all the time?
“I’m fine,” I said flatly, turning my glare out the window. “I’ll be home soon anyway.”
“So I can give you a ride home, but you won’t eat my food?”
My eyes widened, and I looked over at him. “You made me let you give me a ride home,” I pointed out, and then added quietly, “Which I appreciate. Of course.”
I shook my head, unable to keep the small smile from my lips.
“Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll eat.”
And it took me no damn time to peel the lid off the container and smile at the watermelon chunks inside. Picking one out with my thumb and index finger, I joked. “Fruit?” I asked. “I’d never pictured you chopping watermelon, Jax.”
“But you pictured me,” he deadpanned, his cocky lips twisting up as he pulled the shifter down, powering ahead as if he knew everything.
I rolled my eyes, not even entertaining the idea of walking into that one any further. Sliding a piece of watermelon between my teeth, I bit the red cube in half, loving the grainy texture against my tongue. Sweet juice filled my mouth, and my stomach growled again, in appreciation.
Sucking the nectar to the back of my tongue, I swallowed and placed a hand over my mouth. “This is really good.” I nearly laughed, because I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. “Thanks.”
But glancing over at Jax, I lost my smile immediately. His straight face was focused out on the road, and he looked almost angry. The car had slowed, and an air of awkwardness had settled in his narrowed eyes.
“Am I eating your lunch?” I asked, all of a sudden feeling angry that he had bullied me into eating. “I told you I was fine—”
He cut me off. “Eat. Please.”
And I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, looking unsettled.
Unsure about his change in mood, I couldn’t figure out what to do. So I finally just continued munching, feeling the void in my stomach filling as Jax drove us through waterlogged streets.
Crossfade’s “The Deep End” filled the space around us, and I was lost, barely trying to hide how I watched him.
He did the whole guy thing as he drove—body pressed into the seat back, arm steel-rod straight on the steering wheel at twelve o’clock, and chin down. But whenever he shifted up or down, my gaze flashed to his hand, reveling in the cords of his forearm and how they flexed when he changed speeds. And I loved how the car gained momentum and the engine roared and vibrated, making my thighs shake.
I wanted to be able to drive like that.
I’d never asked Liam to teach me, even though he probably would have. Aside from all the damn cheating, my boyfriend—er, ex-boyfriend—was actually a nice guy and easy to get along with.
But I never thought I could learn. Which was stupid. I held my own in school. It wasn’t as though I was incapable of learning something new.
I kept eating, glancing down every time he shifted to watch him. Trying to memorize how he timed pressing in the clutch with shifting the gears and chewing as I studied his legs and arms all working to keep the car going.
My mother had taken me to the symphony in Chicago when I was little, and I remember watching the conductor while everyone else watched the musicians. The power of leading, of knowing when to push and pull, fascinated me. I was envious of having control like that. Of guiding so many instruments in a unified effort to create something so beautiful. It was like a magnificent puzzle, and you just had to find the right way—or maybe just your way—to fit them all together.