I kissed her as she dressed, helped her find her missing shoe, and smoothed her wild hair for her, but I felt like a robot doing it. I tried to push the anger away and relish how she felt nestled firmly against me in the back of Casper's beater as we drove to through the night. But her hesitant silence hung in the air around us like a barrier I thought had already fallen.
The house on the cliff belonged to Kayla, a trust fund baby friend of Banks, though the two could not have been more different. She must have been watching for us, because she swayed out the front door as we pulled up, dancing barefoot to music only she could hear.
"Hey, guys," she crooned. "Party's moved down to the beach."
"You ready?" I asked Lily. It was the first time we had spoken since I asked her to be my date."
"Sure," she said. "Lead the way, rock star."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Liliana
I followed his broad back as we picked our way carefully down the wooden staircase bolted to the cliffside. The moonlight reflected off the calm water, lighting the whole beach in an otherworldly blue glow. Everything seemed flattened out, the shadows and highlights missing, throwing my depth perception off-kilter.
Two steps from the bottom, the heel of my foot caught the back of a step and I tumbled forward with a yelp and slammed into Jax.
He whirled around and caught me just before I ended up sprawled across the ground. "You okay?" he asked, gently righting me.
His hands lingered on my shoulders. We were the same height, standing on the steps like this, and the moon lit the back of his head so that his eyes were deep pools of shadow.
"I'm okay," I gasped. It wasn't the fall that had me breathless.
Jax didn't nod or continue on his way. Pressing his palm to my cheek, he looked at me, his eyes darting back in forth like he was trying to read an incomprehensible book. "Good," he said. He took my hand and led me across the soft sand toward the group of people sitting around a bonfire on the beach. The sound of a soft guitar, just a few strums of chords and lazy arpeggios wafted in the night along with the smell of wood smoke that always made me nostalgic for the childhood I didn't have. I held Jax's hand tighter.
He looked back without speaking, but seemed to know I needed reassurance, because he waited a beat until I was at his side, then pulled me tightly in to him. "This group doesn't give a fuck about who I am or who we are. They all have their own shit they’re dealing with. Don't you freak out on me, Bit." He paused. "But if you do start to freak, just let me know and I'll get you out of here. I just want to be with you a minute… where no one is watching."
He started walking again, but I found myself rooted to the spot by his soft words. This was not what I was expecting. That moment in the hallway had been fun, reckless, and meaningless. The Jax that pressed me against the wall… he was the arrogant jerk I was used to. The one I had taught myself to despise. That was the Jax I wanted to hate-fuck and forget about.
This Jax? The one cupping my face and searching my eyes? The one reassuring me instead of giving me crap? Who the hell was he?
I shivered. "You cold, Bit?" Jax asked. Without waiting for my reply, he whipped his battered leather jacket off his shoulders and slung it around mine. He stepped back, sinking into the soft sand and grinned at me. 'I don't know what I expected here. You look like you're wearing a cape."
I pulled it tightly around me. "Or a sleeping bag." I was surrounded by his scent. "But aren't you going to be cold?"
"Yes. Which is why you need to stick close to me. Keep me warm." He plopped himself onto one of the logs by the fire and pulled me down into his lap. "There. That's better.
I settled back against his chest, every nerve in my body on red alert. But Jax was right. A few people turned in our direction, but they only gave us blank, friendly smiles before turning back to their conversations. I relaxed into Jax's chest. He pressed his lips to my neck and then rested his chin on my shoulder.
A bonfire on the beach. It was so… normal that I felt a pang of sorrow for the me that never was. A normal teenager hanging out on the beach with friends, in the arms of a loving, uncomplicated boyfriend.
Jax kissed the place where my neck met my shoulder again and sudden anger welled up in my chest. "Stop," I said, wiggling off his lap.
He looked up at me, confused. I was confused myself. Creeping panic raced up my spine. "What are you doing?" I demanded.
"As far as I can tell, I was kissing your neck," he said.
"Yeah, but why?"
I could see his brow furrow dark shadows in the firelight. "Well, mainly because I like your neck."
I waved at him in frustration. "Do you remember the last time we were at the beach together?"
Jax narrowed his eyes. "Of course I remember," he said sullenly. "What kind of question is that?"
I don't know. I needed to feel the pain again. Pick at the scab that seemed to insist on healing over. "You were so drunk. You told me…"
"I told you how I felt about you. Yeah," he interrupted.
I bit my lip, my anger briefly derailed. The memories were stirring things up inside of me, things I was fighting very hard to keep still. "You did," I said carefully. "You were definitely drunk and I figured…"
He jumped to his feet. "I meant it, Bit. Everything." He ran his fingers through his hair until it stood up in wild tufts I ached to smooth. "Fuck, I still mean it. I didn't stop." He pointed his finger at my chest. "You ran away from me, not the other way around, I'll remind you."
The pain flooded afresh. "Ran away? Is that what you think I did?"
"What the hell else would you call it?"
"Moving on!" I said. I yanked his jacket up over my shoulders and sagged inside of it, then realized what a mistake that was. Everything smelled like him. I shrugged my shoulders, dropping it to the sand. I was instantly freezing, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of needing him like I did. "After you so clearly moved on yourself."
His mouth opened and then closed and the light that had been burning in his eyes since the show suddenly snapped back off again. I hadn't even realized it was there until it was gone. "And how is moving on working for you, hmm?" he asked. "You're still here. We're still…" He sank his hands between my legs and I pushed him away, hot, fresh anger bubbling up into my veins.
"I'm here because our parents are getting married, dumbshit!"
He gripped me tighter. "No. Here." He waved his hand to take in the fire, the dark ocean, the sand underneath our toes. "You're here. With me. You've no more moved on than I have. There's no moving on from what we had, Liliana. You're fucking it for me."
I didn't realize I was shaking my head until I spat the word at him. "Bullshit!" I was going to start crying any minute now, and that pissed me off. "How many girls have you fucked since I left, huh? How many before then? You know how many guys I've been with? One." I stabbed him in the chest with my finger. "So how are you going to tell me I'm 'it?’ "
I poked him again, but he swatted me away like a fly. "You've always been it," he said sadly. Then he turned back to the fire.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jaxson
She stomped off, by the sound of it. I heard her greet Kayla and Harlow, ask them what they were drinking. Standing here by the fire—with my hands shoved into my pockets to keep from punching something—while pretending I didn't want to rush after her and demand to know what the fuck just happened was making me crazy.