Page 92 of Enemies Off Camera
He kisses me, slow and tender. “You’re deep in the pocket.”
“Wait,” I say, stiffening as something important resurfaces—something I’d forgotten in the whirlwind of our reunion.
Jaxon’s full attention is on me, and part of me basks in it. Maybe I should just let it go. But what if, once everything between us settles, there’s a side of him that could break my heart—all because I didn’t follow through on something I shouldn’t have ignored?
His brow furrows. “What is it?”
My lips falter. I hate even bringing it up. “While you were gone… when I thought you’d ghosted me, I had your SUV returned to your apartment. It should be in your garage now.” I pause. The space between his eyes tightens.
“Your coat was in the back seat,” I continue, hesitating. “And I, um… went through your pockets.” I shut my eyes for a second, bracing for judgment. “I found a note. From someone named Rach. She said she wanted you to…”
“Oh,” he says, cutting in, his voice oddly relieved. “She gave that to Jake to pass along at the party we went to a few weeks ago. I meant to throw it away. Just forgot.”
Relief floods me. “Oh.”
He touches my face, brushing a thumb along one corner of my mouth, then the other. His eyebrows lift slightly, like he’s savoring the feel of my skin.
“You never have to worry about another woman,” he says. “I’m with you. And when I’m with someone, I’m loyal. Sure, I had hookups before—but I never committed. When I commit, Zara, I commit. And I’m committed to you.”
“Same,” I whisper, my heart spinning from the weight of his words.
We hold each other’s gaze, and I feel like I could fall right through him. Like I’ve known him all my life. Like we’ve lived a thousand lifetimes together. And still, we’re only just beginning.
Then he leans back against the pillows, the hint of a grin playing at his lips. “But let’s not get distracted yet.” He winks. “I want to hear the rest—all about your victory with your dad.”
I smile, soaking it all in—this man, this moment. I believe him. I believe everything he just said. And I think about how close I came to never knowing any of it. What if I’d written him off completely? What if I hadn’t let myself see past the surface? I hated him, once. Fiercely. But now… now I love him even more deeply than I ever despised him.
“To answer your question,” I say, eyes steady on his, “Yes. I forgive my dad… because I forgave myself.”
And with that, Jaxon shifts beneath me, guiding me onto him with slow, assured hands. It’s all heat and connection and rhythm, our bodies speaking a language all their own.
And just before I can catch my next breath?—
“Mmm…” he’s inside me again.
SIXTY-SEVEN
THE ANNOUNCERS
Superbowl Sunday
Troy “Big Talk” Blanchard:
“It’s cold. There’s snow. But these stands? Blazing hot tonight.”
Wes Ramsey:
“They’re hot indeed, Troy. We’re five minutes out from the third quarter… and Jaxon Wilde—whoa.”
Troy:
“I’mma say it. I’m going out on a limb.”
Wes:
“Oh no…”
Troy:
