Page 81 of A Little Crush
Not. Seeing. Anyone.
I heard it from the man himself. He’s not seeing anyone. Just slipping into my bed and kissing me in the rain, but hey. He’s definitely still single.
Gah!
I turn off the television and toss the remote onto the coffee table. Why is it so impossible to get this man out of my head?
30
RORY
The next two days go by in a blur while also managing to move at a snail’s pace. Other than my somewhat awkward night at the banquet, I spend most of my time watching movies, swimming, and walking Hades. By some miracle, I even manage to refrain from texting my congratulations on a good game to Jaxon. Pathetic? Maybe a little, but it is what it is, and at this point, I’m determined to celebrate every win, no matter how infinitesimal. My parents left for a B-Tech Enterprises retreat yesterday, and the quiet’s been nice. It’s given me time to think. And overthink. And go through the stack of nanny resumes. I’m sure at least one of them would willingly start before the month I promised Jax is up, but the idea of leaving Poppy creates a pit in my stomach, so I haven’t bothered asking any of the potential hires if they’d be interested.
Reaching out in general, though, feels pretty necessary since I promised a certain someone I’d tackle the process during my week off. I puff out my cheeks and drag the resume into the maybe folder on my iPad when Hades grumbles at my feet.
I glance down, finding his dark chocolate eyes staring up at me.
“Is there a problem, sir?”
Sitting up, he gives me another grunt and pushes his head against my calf. He’s bored. Or restless. Or both. Then again, so am I.
“Fiiiine.” I shut off my iPad. “We'll play in the backyard. But only for a minute,” I add, as if the beast has the power to understand time constraints. “Where’s your ball?”
Barreling out of the office, Hades rushes toward the laundry room where his things are kept, his cumbersome footsteps echoing down the hall. When we meet at the backdoor, his neon green ball peeks out from beneath his chocolate colored snout, proving he understands a lot more than most give him credit for.
With a twist of the handle, I open the door. The sun is high in the sky, seeping through my threadbare T-shirt and cotton sleep shorts as I skip down the stairs to the grass. Wrenching my arm back, I throw the ball across the lawn, and Hades darts after it before bringing it back to me so I can repeat the process all over again. I don’t mind, though. He’s my boy. My only boy, it seems.Which is all right, I remind myself. I don’t need a guy. Especially one who has a habit of running in the opposite direction every chance he gets.
As the ball rolls off the tip of my fingers for the tenth time, something catches Hades’ attention, and he lifts his head, choosing to stare at the edge of the house instead of the ball soaring through the air. Following his gaze, I find an unsure Jaxon rounding the corner with his hands in his pockets.
A gasp catches in my throat, and I try to cover my surprise, though I doubt I’m successful.
What the hell is he doing here?
Hades looks up at me, checking in, so I smooth my features and give him a nod. “Go say hi.”
Like a flash, he dashes across the lawn, and Jaxon’s mouth lifts before he squats down to scratch Hades behind the ear. Unease spreads through my chest as I watch their interaction. I’ll never understand it. Why my dog, who hates everyone, seems to accept Jaxon without any reservations. Considering how many people are on his shit list for no reason at all, it makes zero sense. And also kind of makes me want to withhold his treats for the next week or something. Not that I want him to hate anyone—including Jaxon—but it’s like saying the sky is green instead of blue. It just…it doesn’t make sense.
Then again, I guess I can’t blame my furry beast since—like my dad so eloquently pointed out during the banquet—I’ve always felt the same pull with the same person despite the lack of logic. Maybe it’s what makes Hades such a good companion for me. We’re the same terrible judge of character despite our best intentions. Okay, that’s probably not fair. Jaxon has great character. And great kissing abilities. But I digress.
Standing to his full height, Jax tucks his hands in his front pockets again and glances at me on the opposite side of the yard. “Hey.”
The single syllable lacks any real or phony enthusiasm. Quite the opposite, actually. It’s like he still can’t decide whether or not he’s welcome despite Hades’ all-too-welcoming response. Then again, neither can I.
Why are you here?
His footsteps are slow and calculated as Hades dives for the forgotten ball and gallops toward me, dropping it at my feet. Tearing my attention from Jax, I crouch down, pick up the ball, and toss it through the air in an attempt to act unaffected by his unplanned visit.
“Hey,” Jax repeats when he’s close enough. I steal another peek at him despite my best intentions. I shouldn’t notice how cute he looks with his hands tucked in his front pockets, but I do. He looks really handsome. Nervous. And handsome. The man’s usually so sure of himself, it’s strange to see him like this. Like he doesn’t know what to do with himself or how to act around me. The combination hits harder than it should, and I fight the urge to reach out to him. To make it better. To smooth the crease in his brow when he’s the reason it’s there in the first place.
“Is Poppy okay?” I ask because it’s the only explanation as to why he’s here.
Why are you here?
“She’s fine,” he murmurs. “With her mom still.”
Pressing my lips together, I give him a short nod but don’t say anything else. Honestly, I refuse to. Why should I be the one to break the silence, to bail him out, when he’s the one who tracked me down in the first place?
“How was the banquet?” Jax asks.
