He cocks an eyebrow at me, and then a frown creases his lips. “Bo, you can’t be serious. He already hurt you. Hell, we almost lost you because of him. You can’t—”
I clamp my hand over his mouth instead of letting him continue to speak like I normally do. “You can stop talking now, because I’ve already stopped listening. Turns out, this happens to be my life. Thank you for caring, though.”
His eyes grow confused as a smile forms on my lips.
“Have fun in Ireland. Call me when you get back.”
I pull my hand back and pat him on the cheek before walking away, feeling better than I’ve felt in years. Vince Jaggons is speechless. That in itself is an accomplishment.
For the first time ever, I’m not stewing in a pot of the things I wish I had said.
Now I can’t figure out why I didn’t do this sooner.
EPILOGUE
JAX
BO: I just got in a fight.
My eyebrows go up in confusion, and a sense of panic hits me. Before I can type out a reply, she’s messaging me again.
BO: Not a real fight. It was a fight with me and my car and the awkward parking garage at your apartment building. I should have used the valet service.
I sigh in relief, but then I get confused again.
ME: Why did you drive to my place? It’s just a couple of blocks from yours.
BO: Because I had to carry something to your place… Sorry, but I’m a coffee snob, and your regular coffee pot wasn’t cutting it. Didn’t want to walk around carrying my coffeemaker.
That has me smiling, because it’s one step closer to asking her to move in. No, I don’t give a damn if it’s too soon. She practically lives with me anyway, or has over the past two weeks.
I don’t care if we’re breaking all the don’t-move-too-fast rules. I don’t care if it’s a “whirlwind romance.” I really don’t give a shit what anyone thinks, because I know how I feel. And I feel like I want to strangle someone every time I have to spend too much time away from my girl.
Is it unhealthy? Still don’t give a shit. Everyone else can fuck off, because I’m happy, and so is she.
I also don’t care if she’d rather me move in with her. I’d happily move again as long as she said yes, but she seems to like my smaller apartment over her bigger one, since she’s there all the time.
ME: You’re supposed to already be at Corbin’s place. Or did you forget?
BO: Haven’t forgotten… How many people are there?
ME: I’m here. No one else matters. ;)
BO: On my way now.
I smirk, feeling a little smug. This is the day after our second argument. That’s right. We argued. It was a stupid, immature argument about cover hogging—she’s a cover hog, not me. And it was sexy as hell to see her argue and not back down, even if she was completely in the wrong.
Bo has gotten a backbone, and it looks good on her. Two weeks has been a time of transformation, but she’s still the sweet, sexy, maddening girl I met by fluke. The only thing that has changed is the way she feels about herself and the way she handles others when they try to walk over her.
No, I don’t try to walk over her, but I do like riling her up. It’s hot when she gets frustrated and actually says what she’s thinking.
By the way, make-up sex with Bo is fucking epic. It’s on my top ten list of things in life to do as often as possible, even though I don’t want to press my luck too soon.
No longer does she back down. It’s a lot of growth in a short period of time, but it doesn’t surprise me. Bo is a phenomenon.
My eyes move over to where Ruby is walking over with Bella, who is typing out something on her phone with furious fingers. Bella is… unique. Not as unique as Britt, but still… unique. That’s the only safe word to use that won’t get me slapped.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask Bella as her cheeks flame red and her eyes pop up to meet mine.