Page 35

35

MADISON

J axon’s arm is still wrapped around me when I wake up, his breath tickling my ear on every exhale.

I could stay here for hours, perfectly content, but coffee is calling my name.

I carefully wiggle out from under his arm and grab his discarded shirt from the ground, tugging it on as I make my way to the kitchen.

Right as I’m pulling a mug out, the front door shuts softly, and I jump as in walks Lyla.

“Where the hell did you end up last night?” I ask her, popping in the coffee pod and pressing start.

One of my very favorite scents hits my senses as it starts brewing.

“I could ask you the same, but it would more so be “who” did you do last night?

” Lyla fires back. With how she’s looking this morning, she must’ve had one hell of a night.

“Montgomery’s truck is sitting in the same spot it was when I left last night.”

I grab the peppermint creamer from the fridge while my coffee finishes brewing; I make sure to add enough so I can barely taste the actual coffee.

“Well?” she presses.

“Was it good?”

My cheeks heat a little as I take the first sip of my coffee.

I can’t help the smile that takes over my face .

She squeals. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?”

Both of our heads snap towards the shirtless man standing in my bedroom doorway, trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

His brown hair sticks up in every direction, and all he’s wearing are sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and my mouth instantly goes dry.

“Yeah, I stand by my statement. Like a fucking tree,” Lyla cackles.

“I’m heading to shower before you two go at it on the island. Don’t contaminate my food space!”

Her door shuts before Jaxon even makes sense of what just happened.

“I have zero clue what just happened,” he confirms, his voice still thick with sleep.

Setting my coffee on the counter, I walk over to him, his eyes taking in the shirt I’m wearing, as well as my lack of any other clothes.

They heat instantly, matching the feelings I’m sure are evident in my own.

“She thinks we’re going to fuck in the kitchen.” I shrug nonchalantly.

“I think the bed works better.” He grabs me by the waist, lifting me.

My legs wrap around his middle while my arms wind around his neck, securing me to him as he turns around and walks back into my room, kicking the door shut as he goes.

I can’t help but laugh as he throws me gently onto the mattress.

He lays over top of me, careful to keep his full weight from crushing me.

Brushing my hair out of my face, he plants a soft kiss on my lips.

“You know, for a second there, I thought you’d snuck out of your own place to avoid an awkward morning after conversation.” He tries to keep his tone light, but I can see the truth in his eyes.

"Jax, please. If I were sneaking out, I wouldn’t have headed straight for the coffee pot. I’d have at least grabbed my keys first," I say, trying to lighten the mood .

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.

"So you’re telling me you abandoned me—after the night I just gave you—for coffee?"

I bite my lip, trying and failing to suppress the slow, satisfied smile stretching across my face.

"I mean…yeah."

His groan is low and dramatic, but his grip only tightens, fingers pressing into my waist, his body warm and solid above mine.

"Used and discarded, just like that."

"You poor thing. How will you survive?" I tilt my head, pretending to pout as I trail a hand down his bare chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my fingers.

His hand moves, sliding under the hem of his shirt I stole—well, technically borrowed—his thumb brushing the soft skin just above my hip bone, making me shiver.

"You gonna make it up to me?" His voice drops, deep and husky, like he already knows the answer.

I suck in a slow breath, my body already reacting to how he’s touching me, to the heat in his gaze, the weight of knowing exactly what he’s capable of now.

I lick my lips, tilting my chin up, letting my fingers skate lower over his stomach.

"I don’t know, how exactly can I make it up to you?"

His eyes darken, and I barely have time to breathe before he moves.

One second, he’s hovering above me, and the next, he’s rolling us, his hands gripping my hips as he pulls me onto his lap, my knees settling on either side of him.

I gasp, bracing my hands on his shoulders as he looks up at me, his thumb dragging lazy circles along my waist, pushing my shirt higher until he lifts it over my head and it finds its home back on the floor.

He leans back on the pillow, his smirk all male as he intertwines his fingers behind his head.

“You could start by showing me what that mouth can do.”

And oh, I do.

Finals week is actual hell.

I don’t think I’ve seen the sun in three days.

I don’t think I’ve eaten a real meal since yesterday.

If I have to look at one more equation, my brain is going to leak out of my ears.

Lyla and I are holed up in the library, surrounded by textbooks, loose papers, and enough caffeine to probably send us into cardiac arrest.

I groan, dropping my forehead onto my open notebook.

“I’m not going to survive this.”

Lyla flips a page in her psych textbook, not even looking up.

“Oh, you’ll be fine. If your football boyfriend can help you pull off a B in math, you can do anything.”

I lift my head just enough to glare at her.

“He is not a football boyfriend.”

She smirks.

“Mmm. He’s a football player. He’s your boyfriend. Sounds like a football boyfriend to me.”

I open my mouth to argue, but before I can, a familiar voice cuts in.

"Is my girl falling apart yet?"

I immediately straighten, my stomach flipping at the sound of Jaxon’s voice.

He grins as he stops next to our table, still slightly out of breath, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder like he sprinted here between obligations.

He’s in his team-issued sweats, his hoodie hanging loose, and there’s a light sheen of sweat at his hairline that tells me he just finished lifting.

And fuck, does he look good.

With his insane schedule combined with the chaos of finals, we’ve had to settle for stolen moments between classes, or we end up falling asleep tangled up in each other before spending much time talking.

I’m so looking forward to the winter break coming up.

If the team keeps winning, they’ll be busy well into the break, but at least we won’t have the added pressure of classes .

"Depends," Lyla muses.

"Did you bring her food? Because if not, you should probably back away slowly."

Jaxon smirks, reaching into his hoodie pocket and tossing something onto my notebook.

A Twix bar.

I blink.

"You came all the way here to bring me this?"

He shrugs, smirking like it’s nothing.

"Didn’t have time for more, but I figured you could use a sugar boost."

Something warms in my chest, and suddenly, I don’t care if I fail math.

I have this. I have him.

I pull on his hoodie strings to bring him closer before pressing my lips to his.

He’s lucky he’s in a hurry, or this could turn into something heated real fast.

First chance I get during break, I’m getting him in my bed, naked.

Or his. Maybe his truck?

I don’t really care at this point.

Pulling away, I pick up the Twix, unwrapping it as I smirk.

"You just want me to be thinking about you every time I eat one of these now, don’t you?"

He grins.

"Maybe."

Lyla fake gags.

"Gross. You two are gross."

Jaxon laughs before he glances at his phone.

"Shit, I gotta run. Practice starts in ten."

I nod, taking a bite of the Twix as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

"I’ll call you later, love."

Then, he’s gone.

I stare after him, completely still, my brain short-circuiting.

Lyla grins, waggling her eyebrows.

"Well, well, well. Look who’s getting pet names."

I roll my eyes, trying to pretend my heart isn’t thumping against my ribs.

"It’s just a nickname, Ly."

She hums, flipping a page in her textbook.

"Mmm. Next thing you know, he’ll be confessing his undying love for you."

I pause, just barely, but Lyla sees it.

She whips her head up, her eyes going wide.

"Oh my God. He already did."

I sigh, leaning back in my chair.

"Yeah, he did. "

Lyla’s mouth drops open.

"When?"

I shift, suddenly a little shy.

"Thanksgiving."

Her eyes bulge.

"You’ve known for almost three weeks? And you didn’t tell me?"

I shrug, unwrapping the second half of the Twix bar, suddenly very interested in my candy.

"It wasn’t something I needed to talk about. It was just…Jax being Jax."

Lyla blinks, then leans forward, her voice lower, softer.

"That is huge , Madison! Did you say it back?!"

I exhale slowly, my fingers tightening on the wrapper.

"No, I haven’t yet."

Lyla watches me, waiting for an answer I don’t have.

I should know why I haven’t said it back yet, but the truth is—I don’t.

I push my textbook away, sighing as I rub my fingers across my forehead.

"It’s not that I don’t feel it, Ly."

Because God, do I feel it.

It’s in every look Jaxon gives me.

It’s in every touch, every soft moment that pulls me deeper into him.

It’s there. It’s real.

But saying it? That’s something else entirely.

Lyla tilts her head.

"Then what’s stopping you?"

I pick at the corner of my Twix wrapper, avoiding her eyes.

"I don’t know. Maybe I just…need more time."

She hums, studying me like she’s trying to figure out how much of that is actually true.

"You’re not scared he doesn’t mean it."

I snort.

"No. Jaxon is all in. That’s never been the problem."

Since the moment he showed up this year, since he transferred to this school, since he chose me, he has been all in.

Leaving little notes on pieces of paper tucked into my textbook to make me smile when I’m studying alone.

Making sure I’m always comfortable.

Including me in his discussions with teammates when he could easily ignore me.

Taking care of me when my body tries to end me during that time of the month, showing up at my door with soup dumplings, chocolate, and a heating pad .

He’s never made me second guess the validity of his feelings for me—I’m the one who’s still trying to figure it out.

It’s not that I don’t want to say it.

It’s not even that I don’t feel the same way.

It’s just…big.

The only time I’ve ever said those words out loud were to my parents, and look how that turned out.

Lyla must see something in my face, because she softens, dropping her pen onto her book.

"Babes, you don’t have to rush it. I’m not saying you need to throw yourself at him and pour your heart out tomorrow, but…" She pauses, searching for the right words.

"I just don’t want you to wait so long, you end up regretting it."

I swallow, nodding slowly, because…

yeah. I don’t want that either.

I want to tell him, I just need to do it in my own way.

On my own time.

Lyla must see she pushed enough, because she just nudges my foot under the table and says, "Alright, here’s the deal—let’s get through finals first. Then, you can worry about your emotional growth and your football boyfriend."

I let out a breath of laughter, shaking my head.

"Deal."

Lyla grins.

"Good. Now, back to what’s really important—if you don’t pass this math final, you’re cooked.”

I groan, dropping my head onto the table. "Don’t remind me.

"

She just laughs, flipping through my notes.

As I sit up and start studying again, I know—whenever the moment feels right, whenever I’m ready, those words will come.

Just not yet.