My brain recalibrates a little more.
After studying me for a moment, Tristan turns back to Remy. "Did you call an Uber already?"
She nods as she glances down at her phone. "It'll be here in three minutes. I figured we could all do a shot before—"
Suddenly, something shatters behind me. I jump at the loud sound and turn toward the kitchen.
I see Jax standing next to the fridge, his shell-shocked gaze jumping back and forth between me and the shattered beer bottle at his feet. He swallows roughly when he meets my eyes.
"Dude, what the hell?" Tristan laughs. "Since when are you clumsy? You were just bragging about how it's impossible to sweep you in the gym."
That seems to snap Jax out of whatever weird daze he's in. He glares at Tristan, then reaches for the broom to clean up the broken beer bottle at his feet.
"Here, let me help," I offer, walking around the kitchen island and reaching for the mop behind Jax.
"No, don't, there's glass everywhere," he says hurriedly, reaching out to stop me from getting any closer. His hand lands on my hip only long enough to stop my forward steps, then he pulls away as if burned. His glare remains fixed on the glass scattered across the floor, and he begins sweeping up the mess in a hurry.
"So what're you guys doing tonight?" I ask, my attention still focused on Jax.
"We're just watching the fights," he answers. He seems to think of something, and he looks up with a frown. "Where are you guys going again?"
"Woody's," Remy chirps happily. "Lucy's going to meet us there. For as long as it takes her to pick up some chick." She rolls her eyes, but it just makes me chuckle.
Jax glances between Remy and I, looking like he wants to say something, until finally he sighs heavily and says, "Just be careful, okay? I know it's a gay bar, but there might still be assholes in there trying to hit on you."
I cock my head and stare at him thoughtfully. "Would you ever tell me how to dress? Or tell me I couldn't go somewhere?"
His eyebrows rise, and he looks directly at me, as if he's searching for something, and it takes him a moment to answer. "Never," he blurts. But then his look becomes almost sheepish, and he looks back down at the glass on the floor. "I just want to make sure you guys are safe," he mumbles defensively.
A warmth blossoms in my chest, and a smile spreads across my face, growing bigger and bigger until it feels like my cheeks are going to split. I step forward and lift up on my toes so I can kiss his cheek, my happiness feeling like it wants to bubble out of my every pore.
Jax gives me a confused look, his eyes darting over my face as he tries to figure out where that came from.
I want to tell him that he's a good man. That he just proved there's a difference between protective and controlling. That between his answer and Tristan's, I have a slightly better understanding today of acceptable male behavior.
But I don't get the chance, because Remy's phone beeps.
"Uber's here," she says. "We gotta go." She turns and gives Tristan a quick kiss, but before she can pull away, he grabs her by the throat and pulls her back for another more intense kiss. I hear Jax grumble next to me, but I just smile and shake my head as I look away.
"Okay, let's go," I hear Remy say a moment later. She sounds just as breathless as she looks flushed. She shoves Tristan away from her before he can grab her again.
"Call me if you need anything," I hear Jax say. I turn back to him to see a grin on his face. "And have fun."
Before I can stop myself, I press another happy kiss to Jax's cheek. This time he just smiles, and I swear it’s because he can understand the change that came over me.
* * *
It's late enough that when we get to the club, the line outside is already stretching down the street. Thank goodness it's only September, the weather cool enough to still be comfortable as we move to the end of the line.
"Have you ever been to Woody's?" Lucy asks me, pulling her coat tighter around her body. For the first time since I've known her, she's actually wearing a dress. It's black with leather banding around her breasts to match the combat boots on her feet, but it's a dress nonetheless. Combined with her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail to show off the lines shaved into the side of her head, and she looks like a total lesbian badass.
I shake my head. "I've been to a few bars near the one I used to work at that would let me in before I turned twenty-one, but I've never been clubbing."
Her red-painted lips stretch into a grin. "Well then, you're in for a treat. Woody's is the best club for dancing. It has two dancefloors upstairs, so you can pick the type of music you want to dance to, and because it's a gay bar, you're less likely to get hit on by douchebag frat boys."
But just then, a catcall sounds from across the street.
"Less likely, not impossible," I hear Remy mutter from next to me.