Page 23 of Switch

“You seem like you handle it well,” he says, his tone genuine.

“Most of the time,” I admit. “But what about you? Do you have siblings?”

His smile softens, and he shakes his head. “Nah. It’s just me. The club, though… they’re like my brothers. Maybe more than brothers, honestly.”

I can hear the weight in his voice and the unspoken history behind his words. “That must be nice,” I say softly. “Having people you can count on like that.”

“It is,” he says, his eyes meeting mine. “But it’s a lot too. Comes with its own kind of responsibility.”

Before I can ask more, the waitress returns with our pizza, setting the massive pie in the middle of the table. The smellalone makes my stomach growl, and I don’t waste any time grabbing a slice.

We dig in, the conversation turning lighter as we debate the best toppings, the worst movie sequels, and whether pineapple belongs on pizza.

“It’s an abomination,” Jax declares, wiping his hands on a napkin.

“I don’t know,” I tease, grinning. “I think it’s kind of refreshing.”

He narrows his eyes at me, shaking his head. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Bella, because that’s a dealbreaker for most people.”

“Good thing I’m not most people,” I fire back, taking another bite.

By the time we finish eating, I’m full, warm, and more relaxed than I’ve been in weeks. Jax leans back in the booth, his arms crossed over his chest, a satisfied look on his face.

“This was fun,” I say, surprising myself with how easily the words come out.

He looks at me, his expression softening. “Yeah, it was.”

For a moment, we just sit there, the noise of the restaurant fading into the background. There’s something in his gaze that makes my pulse quicken, like he’s seeing me in a way no one else ever has.

“Ready to head out?” he asks, breaking the silence.

I nod, sliding out of the booth. As we step outside into the cool night air, he holds the door for me, his hand brushing mine as I pass.

“You cold?” he asks, glancing at my sweater.

“A little,” I admit, tucking my hands into my sleeves.

Without a word, he shrugs off his leather jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. The gesture is simple, but the warmth of it—and the scent of him lingering on the leather—sends a shiver down my spine.

“Thanks,” I say, pulling it tighter around me.

He nods, his usual smirk softening into something gentler. “Let’s get you home.”

When we pull up to my house, the night feels quieter than usual. The crisp air brushes against my cheeks as Jax shuts off the bike, the rumble fading into silence. He helps me off, his hands steady and firm, lingering just long enough to send a soft warmth through me.

As we walk up the path to my door, I try to focus on the ground beneath my boots instead of the ache in my chest. I don’t want this night to end.

He stops at the bottom step while I take the last one, turning to face him under the soft glow of the porch light. His jacket still hangs around my shoulders, the leather smelling faintly of him—spice, smoke, and something distinctly Jax.

“I had a great time tonight,” he says, his voice low and steady.

“Me too,” I reply, my smile softer than I mean it to be. “Thanks for… everything. The climbing, the pizza, all of it.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, the corner of his mouth curving into that lazy smirk that gets me every time. “I told you you’d have fun.”

I laugh softly, shifting my weight. There’s a moment of silence between us, not awkward, just… heavy. Like something is waiting to be said.

I finally find my courage and ask, “Do you… want to come in?”

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