Page 86 of Coming In Hot
“Only with people who deserve it.”
He grins, wide and wolfish. “So… always, then.”
I roll my eyes, but I don’t let go of his shirt. I don’twantto.
And I definitely don’t want to go back out there and pretend like none of this happened.
But I know I’m going to have to. At least for now.
He reads the hesitation in my eyes—of course, he does—and just nods.
“Later,” he says quietly, arranging his dick to a less obvious position. “We’ll finish this.”
“Yeah,” I agree, stepping back, trying not to appear too wrecked. “Later.”
Then I open the door, walk out like I wasn’t just making out with him in a bar bathroom, and head straight for Joey—who’s watching me with one brow raised and a knowing little smile on her lips.
Shit.
“Bathroom buddy system?” she asks sweetly, eyes flicking to Pharo as he steps out behind me, looking approximately eighty-five percent ravished and not at all sorry about it.
“Yep,” I deadpan, sliding back onto my stool. “We held hands and braided each other’s hair. Very bonding.”
McCormick chokes on his beer. Stiles whistles low, really dramatic. “Damn, Jax, if you’re gonna sneak off for a quickie, at least take the club vest off first. It’s a little sacred, bro.”
I glare at both of them, but they’re grinning like assholes. Pharo, meanwhile, just reaches for his beer and takes a long, lazy sip like he didn’t just have my tongue down his throat in a dingy bathroom.
Joey hums, all fake-innocent. “So that’s what the kids are calling it these days—hydration breaks.”
I give her a side-eye. “You want me to draw you a diagram? Color-coded?”
She grins, pleased with herself. “Nah. I’ve got a vivid imagination. Though Iwashoping you’d come back less grumpy.”
McCormick snorts. “Why? You don’t like angsty Jax?”
Joey rolls her eyes, still smiling. “No, I’m just a fan of that totally unhinged idea where people enjoy each other’s company without turning it into a soap opera. You know, friendship?”
That shuts me up. For a second, anyway.
“I’m serious, Jax. I don’t wanna get in the way of whatever this is.” She nods subtly toward Pharo without looking at him. “But I like you. As a friend. You’re one of the only people who doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid or a project.”
I blink, caught off guard. “Joey?—”
“It’s fine,” she cuts in, holding up a hand. “I flirt when I don’t know how to sayhey, please like me platonically, and maybe let me crash your weird little club sometime.It’s dumb, I know. I just suck at asking for things straight.”
I glance at Pharo, who’s watching her now with something like quiet respect. Then I look back at Joey and exhale slowly.
“You don’t have to flirt your way into the group,” I say. “You want in? You’re in. No weird hazing required.” I suspect Joey’s lack of social skills has something to do with her being on the spectrum. Why I didn’t realize that sooner, I have no clue.
“Well,” Stiles says, raising a finger, “thereisa trial by tequila, but that’s tradition. And you have to get the all clear from my unicorn, Josh, our mascot.”
“Don’t forget the initiation karaoke,” McCormick adds. “We still got that video of you belting out ‘Shallows,’ Jax.”
“Delete it or die,” I say, deadpan.
Joey beams. “Cool. I’ll bring the glitter and questionable life choices.”
Pharo raises his glass. “That’s the spirit.”
