Page 36

36

JAXON

T he house is warm, filled with the lingering scent of pine and cinnamon, the last embers in the fireplace flickering low.

Laughter still hums in the air, leftover from the chaos that is Montgomery Family Game Night.

Madison managed to absolutely dominate at trivia, much to my mom’s delight and my dad’s horror.

She fits in so easily here, like she was always supposed to be a part of this.

Now, as the night settles into quiet, I lean back on the couch, stretching my legs out while Madison tucks her hair behind her ear, letting out a yawn.

I grin, reaching for her hand.

"Tired, Mads?"

She glares, swatting at me.

"Exhausted. Unlike you, I actually had to study for finals."

I chuckle, squeezing her fingers.

"Hey, I had to study too."

She snorts.

"Right. Because rewatching game film counts as studying."

I lift a shoulder, smirking.

"Gotta keep my mind sharp."

She rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile.

My mom—who has been watching us like she’s narrating a damn Hallmark movie in her head—clasps her hands together with a beaming smile.

"I still can’t believe you got a B in math, Madison! We’re so proud of you, honey."

Madison flushes, shifting slightly in her seat.

"Honestly, I think Jax deserves most of the credit."

I shake my head.

"Nah. You did the work, babe."

She bites her lip, and I swear, I see something flicker in her eyes—something soft, something just for me.

Before I can figure it out, she stands, stretching her arms over her head.

"Alright, I’m calling it. Goodnight, everyone."

My mom pulls her into a hug, my dad giving her a warm see you in the morning.

I squeeze her hand as she walks past, her fingers brushing lightly over my shoulder.

And just like that, she’s gone, but the warmth she leaves behind lingers.

I lean my head back against the couch, exhaling slowly.

My uncle leans forward, rubbing his chin as he studies the screen.

"So, how are you feeling going into the last few rounds of playoffs? You boys are undefeated this season. That’s a lot of pressure."

I shrug, rolling a football between my hands.

"We’ve worked for this. We knew from the start that if we played our game, we’d be in this position. Nothing changes now."

My dad smirks, crossing his arms. "That’s a very athlete answer, son."

I chuckle.

"What do you want me to say? That I’m nervous?"

He raises a brow.

"Are you?"

I hesitate for half a second before shaking my head.

"No. We’re ready."

And we are.

We’ve put in the work.

The practices are more intense, the film sessions longer, but that’s what it takes.

This is what we’ve been building toward all season.

"Well," my uncle says, reaching for his beer, "if you keep playing the way you have been, you’ll be looking at a championship game in a few weeks."

The weight of that settles over me for a beat .

A national championship.

It’s so close, just a few games away, but we have to earn it.

My dad claps a hand on my shoulder.

"Enjoy it, Jax. These moments don’t last forever."

I nod, gripping the football tighter.

Because he’s right. These games, these nights under the lights, the feeling of pushing myself further than I ever thought I could—this is everything I’ve ever worked for.

“Boys, enough football talk!” my mom hums, giving me a look.

"So."

I crack an eye open.

"So?"

She grins, sipping her tea.

"You’re really smitten, huh?"

I shake my head, but it’s useless—she already knows.

"Yeah, Ma. I am."

My dad chuckles, settling into his chair.

"It’s been a long time coming."

My uncle, who has been quietly nursing his drink by the fireplace, raises a brow.

"Just don’t start talking about marriage yet. You two are way too young to be thinking about all that."

My mom gasps, pressing a hand to her chest. "Excuse me? I’d love a daughter-in-law soon!"

I groan, dropping my face into my hands.

"Mom."

She just smirks.

"What? A mother can dream."

I shake my head, but my uncle’s words stick in my brain, rooting there.

Marriage.

A future.

A family.

Our family.

I hadn’t thought about it like that before—at least, not in a real way.

But now… Now, my brain can’t stop.

I picture it so clearly—Madison in our home, curled up on the couch, wearing one of my sweatshirts, teasing me about whatever game I just played.

I see her in our kitchen, rolling her eyes when I burn the pancakes, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in her hands.

I see her with my mom, helping with Thanksgiving dinner, laughing as they team up against me.

I see her in our bed, tangled up in my sheets, looking at me like I hung the damn moon.

I can picture her pregnant, belly swollen with our baby.

I can vividly imagine Madison as a mom, chasing tiny little ones around the house, playing in the backyard that backs right up to the ocean.

I can see it all.

And God, I want it.

I want her—not just now, not just for a little while, but for good.

I’ve always known that I love her, but now?

Now, I know I want forever.

My thoughts are interrupted by my phone vibrating in my pocket.

I fish it out and see a text from Madison telling me to come upstairs.

She will never have to tell me twice.

I simply don’t possess the power to say no to Madison Blake.

I shove my phone back into my pocket, clearing my throat as I push off the couch.

"Alright, I’m calling it a night."

My mom raises a brow, but there’s a knowing twinkle in her eyes, bright with mischief.

"You sure? We could stay up a little longer, talk about wedding venues?—"

I groan, running a hand over my face as my dad chuckles.

"Goodnight, Ma."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," she sings, all too pleased with herself.

My uncle mutters something about kids these days, but I don’t bother listening—I’m already heading for the stairs, my feet taking me to her without a second thought.

When I push open my bedroom door, the room is dimly lit, the soft glow from the lamp on my nightstand casting shadows across the walls.

But Madison’s not in bed .

I glance around, frowning slightly.

"Mads?"

The bathroom door opens, and my breath catches as Madison steps out.

Her hair tumbles in waves down her chest, her bare legs catching the light as she moves.

But it’s not just that.

It’s what she’s wearing.

My jersey.

And only my jersey.

The fabric is loose, the hem skimming high on her thighs as she stands there, giving me a slow, teasing smile.

"Merry Christmas, Montgomery."

Fuck.

Me.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more jealous of a damn piece of clothing in my life.

My throat goes dry, my heart slamming against my ribs as my eyes rove over her, taking in everything—how my number stretches across her chest, her bare skin peeking from beneath the hem, the way she’s watching me, waiting for my reaction.

I swallow hard, my voice coming out rough.

"You know I actually have to breathe in order to live, right?"

She smirks, shifting her weight onto one leg, looking so damn smug, it nearly kills me.

"Pretty sure you stopped for a few seconds there."

I shake my head, taking a slow step toward her, then another, the tension thick enough to drown in.

"This for me?" I murmur, my fingers skimming the soft fabric near her hip.

Her smirk softens, her eyes flickering to mine.

"Who else would it be for?"

That’s it.

I’m so gone.

I move, my hands gripping her waist, my lips crashing onto hers, swallowing the soft sound she makes as I pull her against me.

She melts instantly, her arms wrapping around my neck, her body pressing against mine in all the ways that tell me exactly how she wants me tonight .

I groan into her mouth, sliding my hands lower, gripping her ass as I lift her, carrying her straight to my bed.

Madison’s breath is warm against my skin, her fingers tangled in my hair as I press her into the mattress.

She sighs into my mouth, shifting beneath me, her legs tightening around my waist. She grinds her core against me as my hands slide up under my jersey—the one that’s barely covering her, the one that’s mine.

And goddamn, she is so soft, so warm, so everything.

I kiss down her neck, nipping at her pulse point, grinning when she gasps, when her nails dig into my back like she can’t decide if she wants to pull me closer or hold on for dear life.

"Jax…" Her voice is breathless, pleading, and fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything sweeter.

"I got you, baby," I murmur against her skin, moving my hands higher, my thumbs reaching for her breasts and skimming over her hardened nipples.

Her body tenses—not in hesitation, but in anticipation, in need.

And damn, that nearly undoes me.

I press a slow, teasing kiss just below her jaw, my hands sliding down to lift the jersey off her.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Jaxon? Honey?"

Fuck.

We freeze.

I curse, my forehead dropping to her shoulder as Madison gasps, her eyes going wide.

We are so screwed.

"Jaxon?" My mom’s voice comes through the door again, too close.

"Make sure you keep your window closed tonight. It’s supposed to get chilly."

Madison whispers my name, her hands clutching at my shoulders, her face flaming.

I squeeze my eyes shut, swallowing hard before forcing my voice to sound as normal as possible given my current predicament.

"I will, Ma. Thanks! "

Silence.

"Alright, sweetheart. Goodnight! You too, Madison."

Footsteps retreat down the hall, and I don’t breathe until I hear her steps fade away.

Madison snorts. It’s so unexpected, so completely ridiculous, that I start laughing too.

She hides her face in the crook of my arm, shaking with laughter, her whole body vibrating against mine.

"Oh my God," she wheezes.

"I thought she was going to open the door."

I grin against her skin, still catching my breath.

"If she did, we’d have to flee the country."

She groans, still giggling as she shoves at my chest. "I really hope she didn’t hear us."

I smirk, letting my hands skim lazily down her sides.

"Well, you weren’t exactly quiet.”

She gasps, swatting at me, but her face is still flushed, her body warm beneath mine, and damn, I could get lost in this girl.

I press a soft kiss to her lips, slower now, gentler, still feeling the thrum of what almost happened between us. She sighs into it, her fingers brushing over my jaw, her legs still loosely wrapped around me.

I am so gone for this girl.

She’s my best friend. My safe place. The person who makes me feel seen in a way no one else ever has.

And God, I want to be that for her too.

I want to be the reason for her smiles, the one who makes her laugh when life feels too heavy. I want to be the person she reaches for when things are good, when they’re bad, when she doesn’t know how to ask for help but needs it anyway.

I want to be the one who helps her mend the broken parts of herself. Not because she needs fixing, but because she deserves someone who will stand beside her, remind her she’s already whole, that she is enough exactly the way she is.

Because Madison isn’t just some girl I’m falling for.

She’s it for me.