I’ve never once even cried about a breakup.
“I’m more worried about her breaking his heart at this point. Jax is definitely head over heels,” Mr. Marshall says, a small smile playing on his lips.
That has all my angry thoughts fleeing while I try not to grin like an idiot and read too much into it.
“What’re we talking about now?” Jax asks as he walks out, smiling as he holds a pitcher of margaritas in his hand.
“Viv spilling her drink in her lap,” Mrs. Marshall easily lies, smiling over at him as he starts refilling everyone’s drinks.
My dad’s eyes avoid mine, because he knows he’ll get the stare.
Jax sits down beside me, and his arm goes around my shoulders as he pulls me closer. When my head rests on his shoulder, he kisses my forehead, and I silently start counting the ways I’m falling for Jax Marshall.
Chapter 34
JAX
“Why a fairy tat?” I ask her while tracing the very low lines of ink that travel across her pubic bone. “What kind of fairy is it?”
“I like fairies. There’s no deep, awesome story behind it. I saw a picture I liked, and figured I’d get it etched permanently on my body. Being spontaneous has never been a problem of mine.”
Considering she flew to Hawaii with me… I completely believe that.
“What about your tats?” she asks, trailing her fingers up some of the lines on my arm.
I glance down at her fingertips, trying to ignore how she’s deliberately teasing me in a place that shouldn’t feel like teasing. I shift up onto my elbows, moving over her a little, and noticing the amused glint in her eyes.
She knows what she’s fucking doing to me.
“After we graduated, we all went and got some ink. We trusted the guy who inked us up, even though that was the first day we’d met him. He literally pulled some tribal markings from the computer, and I got one that is supposed to mean success, and another that is supposed to mean strength. He wove them together to make the half sleeve. Essentially, we were eighteen and marking up our bodies with some shit that might mean douche nozzle or something for all we know. I’m too scared to find out.”
She laughs, and I brush her hair away from her face. The way she looks at me is definitely telling. She cares. Actually cares.
“I’ve gotten a few others. The ones on my chest are just some cool designs a friend of mine drew up. The ones on my back are by another one of my friends.”
She nods while grinning bigger, and she tilts her head, studying me.
“What?” I ask her as I contemplate locking the door for the rest of the day.
“I just like that answer,” she says, still smiling.
Fuck the door. People should knock if they don’t want a show.
She’s giggling until I peel her panties off and start working my mouth down, finding the spot that has her moaning instead of talking.
***
I’m eating fucking pancakes and it’s heaven. Food like this is why I love vacation. It’s also why I will be killing myself in the gym every spare moment I have when I get back.
Bo is grinning down at me as she sits up on the bed—yes, pancakes in bed—and starts tracing lines over the ridges of my ever-receding abs. Damn pancakes.
“Maybe I’ll get to see you when I come to take those yoga classes you’ll be getting,” she says, grinning up at me as I toy with her hair. Damn, it’s so soft.
“I’ll happily flex you out.”
Fuck… Her laugh… I love the sound of it more and more.
“According to Google, my office is five minutes from your gym. Just saying,” she says, but then looks down shyly.