Page 33 of Find Me

“Funny how that happens,” he replies, and I look at him, only to notice he’s looking at me and not the painting in his hands.

My heart beats quickly at the intensity of his stare and I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or his presence that’s making heat gather inside of me.

“I have another one similar to this, but it’s upstairs.”

I walk towards the stairs, grabbing onto the wooden handle before I notice Jax following behind me from a respectful distance. I turn around and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just making sure you get to your room safely. I wouldn’t want you enter the bedroom like you did the front door and risk falling on your face,” he says, innocently enough.

“Like I said, a knight in shining armor.” Friendly sarcasm drips from my words.

I climb up the stairs slowly, trying to keep my nerves in check as I realize I’m heading into my bedroom with Jax, the two of us alone in my apartment.

I pause just inside my bedroom door, turning on the light, unsure of what to do next as Jax stands beside me, his arm brushing mine.

“It’s there,” I say, looking at him as I gesture to the painting sitting on my dresser. Not for the first time tonight I think of how easily I could be consumed by the sea of green staring back at me.

“It’s beautiful,” he says, without taking his eyes off me.

I walk towards my bed before he notices my blush, willing myself to stay composed, my body a mix of excitement and caution that leaves me unsure of what to say or do next, my heart pounding in my chest.

I sit on the edge of my bed and kick off my shoes as I look at him, the desire in his eyes clear from across the room, but his body makes no move towards me.

I lay back on my bed, feeling pleasantly content as I let my legs dangle over the edge, the drinks from earlier keeping the feelings that threaten to consume me at bay. I let out a sigh, feeling lighter than I have in months after confiding in Jax about what I am going through, at least partially.

“My jeans are uncomfortable,” I say the words before I can catch myself, blatantly playing with the fire that threatens to consume me.

Movement catches my attention as Jax walks over to the bed, and my breath catches as he gets on his knees in front of me.

For a moment, I swear my heart stops.

Jesus Christ, he’s a sight to behold.

The desire in his eyes burns brightly, like flames dancing in a breeze. I prop myself up on my elbows to get a better view of him kneeling in front of me, heat gathering in my core at the sight. His hands reach for the button on my jeans, and a jolt of electricity courses through me as his fingers brush against my stomach and my legs as he slowly pulls my jeans off me.

His breathing turns heavy, and it’s enough to tell me that he feels that same spark that I did. My jeans lay in a pile on the floor, and he rests his hands on my knees. I watch him look me over slowly, starting at my ankles and working his way up as if he is devouring a meal, and it takes every ounce of self-control to stop from squirming underneath his gaze.

He freezes as his gaze reaches my thighs, and I follow his stare to the dark bruises that speckle my skin, no longer covered by my jeans.

“Who did this to you?” He growls, the lust in his eyes replaced with undiluted rage.

“It’s nothing, honestly,” I respond quickly before quietly adding, “Nothing out of the ordinary anyway.” A lump forms in my throat; the embarrassment of Jax seeing the bruises—my new normal—hard to swallow.

“Who hurt you?” He snarls. “And trust me when I say this, love, I will fucking kill them slowly for laying a hand on you.”

I laugh as I fall back onto the bed, unable to look at him as I struggle to keep the flood of emotions at bay, my serenity quickly replaced by a sinking feeling. My heart starts to pound in my chest as I feel a familiar void return, the depth of it threatening to drown me. I blink quickly fighting tears as they rise to the surface.

“Tell me what happened,” he says gently.

“A wolf in sheep’s clothing,” I muse, explaining the only way I know how.

“Come again, love?”

“That’s the thing about wolves in sheep’s clothing, Jax. You think they’re safe to sleep next to, but they’re not. They’re just waiting for you to get comfortable before they attack.”

Pure rage flickers across his face. “Give me a name, Evi.”

“Okay, Mr. Morally Gray,” I say sarcastically, feeling bold from the alcohol.

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