“Hey,” I say softly.
He grins. “You sayfucka lot.”
“It’s an acceptable response for everything,” I say, matching his grin. “Also gender neutral—so it fits any scenario.”
Jax’s thumb brushes over my knuckles, and I finally feel like I can breathe again.
“You're fucking unbelievable,” he laughs.
A round of applause starts up—slow at first, then building into a chaotic mess of claps, whistles, and a couple of dramatic gasps for good measure.
“I won’t believe it until I see it,” McCormick calls out, grinning. “Prove you’re together.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m already moving.
Pulling my hand from Jax’s, I slide it behind his neck and tug him in—pressing a kiss to his mouth. Just long enough to prove our point. Just short enough to leave them wanting more.
Jax blinks at me when I pull back, lips parted in surprise, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans in like he’s tempted to go for round two.
There’s a loud whoop from the back of the room.
“I didn't even know they were gay,” McCormick admits. “I mean, not for sure.”
“Look who's talking,” Nash teases. “You and Stiles were straight a few months ago. Who knew you'd take your love of hot dogs a little too literal?”
A speck of pink glitter under Jax’s right eye catches the light, and I smile and brush it away.
“How long do we have to wear these again?” Jax mutters, tugging at the safety pin on his shirt like he might free himself with sheer willpower.
“Until the glitter becomes part of your soul,” I say solemnly.
Riggs chuckles. “Until the end of the day. Or until you two find five compliments to say about each other. Whichever comes first.”
Jax groans. “That’s extortion.”
“That’s justice,” McCormick calls from across the room. “You two were a menace.”
I roll my eyes, but don’t bother arguing. Because somehow, the worst part isn’t the glitter. It’s the way Jax’s hand brushes against mine when he adjusts the heart again, and I want him to do it on purpose.
We’re not fighting today.
But we’re definitelysomething.
Resting my forehead against Jax’s, I grin against his lips. “You want to get out of here?”
“Fuck yes. Save me.”
We dip out of the group meeting and leave the peanut gallery behind in our wake. “That felt fucking amazing,” I admit as we walk down the hall, hand-in-hand.
“You've got some big balls. If I hadn't seen them for myself, I wouldn't believe it,” Jax teases with a pointed look at my groin.
“You want to see them again? Just to be sure? There’s a bathroom up ahead.”
* * *
“This is fucking absurd,” Jax complains, sulking like a toddler.
Rhett scoffs. “Oh, you thought wearing a glitter heart pinned to your chest for an hour was sufficient punishment?”