There it was again. Jax being king of everything without even trying. “Well, I might need your help with something I thought I could do better than you.” My voice was a little more breathless as I picked up my pace to cross the street. I blamed it on that, although I admit the night before crossed my mind. Begging, even asking him for something, ignited a small fire in me.
It must have done the same in him because I heard a grunt before he said, “Ask me and say please, Sweet Sin.”
I licked my lips. “I should tell you that you are being inappropriate. But today, I've decided I don't care about appropriateness. Want to know why?”
“You sound like you might tell me even if I say no.”
“Yes, I will because today, I overcame a panic attack all on my own by just being me, Jax.”
“You had an attack?”
“Yes, well, almost. I was—”
“Where are you?” His voice boomed over the phone loud enough to have me stopping mid stride on my street.
“I'm about to be home.”
“I'm coming over.”
“What? No! Why?” I stuttered.
“You had an attack! Last time you could barely breathe …”
“You're not listening, Jax!” I nearly yelled back. “You, of all people, know not to freak out and baby me. “
I heard his breath, in and out. Then, “Okay, I'm listening.”
I let the smile slip from my lips as I relayed the story to him. I unlocked the door to my apartment and went straight to my room. “I probably seemed a little unhinged. And I think I was. It was like I was dealing with …”
You.
Catching myself, I cleared my throat.
He pushed me. “Like you were dealing with? Me?”
I cleared my throat again. “Not necessarily …”
“Why can't you admit it, Whitfield? I make you the kind of crazy you want to be.”
“You make me crazy, that's for sure.”
He chuckled. “I'll take it. So, it sounds like you still need my help investing.”
“I think I can handle—”
“We can study tonight if you want to.” His voice, normally so full of confidence, carried a hint of vulnerability. I almost invited him with us.
“I can't tonight. I have plans.”
The silence that stretched over the line scraped at my nerves. It would have been polite to fill it with small talk, to delve into my plans, to share more. I sacrificed my most precious formalities for those kids though.
So, my mouth stayed shut long enough for him to concede. I expected a harsh response or a question. Instead, he sighed. “Tomorrow I'm going back to Chicago. We'll have to plan for early next week.”
Now, the tables turned. I wanted to ask the questions and pry for information.
Why this weekend?
Was it for work? For play? For visiting purposes?
I cleared my throat. “See you next week then.”
True to himself, he hung up before a goodbye could be exchanged. I stared at the colors of the pictures I’d hung on my wall for a long while after the call. I teetered on the edge of calling him back and inviting him to go with me to see the kids.