Chapter 149
He kisses the top of my head softly. “You did good tonight,” he murmurs. “Better than I expected. Thought you’d bail after two hours....but you stuck it out. Even when I could tell you were done.”
His heartbeat pounds steady against my cheek, grounding and infuriating all at once.
“The things I do for you,” I whisper, almost a growl. My teeth graze his collarbone before I press my cheek back down. This need....this bone-deep, merciless and unrelenting need for him. It's unfamiliar and irrational.
My lips brush across his chest like I can memorize him through taste alone. His arms lock around me, solid and sure, like I could come apart and he’d still hold the pieces in place. His scent is everywhere....it makes my lungs greedy, like I could drown in it and call that salvation.
Then his voice breaks the silence, low and with that now familiar edge that warns me he's about to say something soul shattering yet again. “I’m not sure I can go another day without saying it.”
I still, lips pressed to his skin. My head jerks up, eyes narrowing because I know exactly what he’s referring to.
Xander’s gaze doesn’t waver. He cups my cheek, thumb dragging over my bottom lip. “I was holding back,” he admits. “Because I thought you’d say it first. But that’s so fucking immature, isn’t it?”
My throat tightens. He doesn’t beat around the bush with the heavy shit, not like me.
“I also wanted to be sure,” he goes on, voice even, though I can feel the tension in the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath me. “That I wasn’t just rushing into this because of how much you make me feel. Because there’s a whole lot, Jax. A hell of a lot.”
I swallow hard, pulse roaring in my ears. He doesn’t hesitate, not with me. He slides a hand into my hair, guiding me up until our mouths crash together. It’s all-consuming, a kiss that strips me raw and has every inch of me unraveling under the weight of him. I clutch him tighter, starving for more.
And then he pulls back, breath ragged and eyes burning into mine.
“I lo—”
Before he can finish, my hand shoots up. My finger presses firm against his lips, cutting the word off, halting it before it can exist in the air between us. My chest heaves. His lips are hot beneath my touch, trembling with the weight of what he was about to spill.
“Don’t,” I rasp, though my voice cracks with everything I’m not saying.
Because if he says it, it becomes real. Too real. And the shadows trailing me, the jagged parts of me I haven’t let him see, will come for it, claw it apart, ruin it.
I can see it in his eyes...that tight edge of confusion, and something worse. Fear. Like he’s already bracing for the blow, waiting for me to swing at him with something sharp. And it guts me. I hate that I’ve put him in a place where he even thinks he needs to prepare for me, like I’m danger and not safety. A storm instead of shelter.
I push myself off him, back against the headboard, and I can’t keep the restless drag of my fingers still against my thigh. He follows, sitting up too, close enough our arms brush but don't touch. His gaze doesn’t waver.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is careful, like he’s reaching for me but doesn’t want to spook me.
What’s wrong? The truth rotting in my chest is.
My heart’s beating too hard, thudding like it’s trying to break ribs to escape. I know what I have to say, but it’s heavy and some cowardly part of me wants to shove it down and pretend it never existed. Pretend I’m not carrying it, that it isn’t what it is. But it is. And if I treasure him the way I think I do, the way I know I do, then I owe him this. Even if it risks him walking out.
“I need to tell you something,” I manage, voice hesitant. “That’s the only way I’ll be okay with letting you say those words. The only way I’ll ever be able to say them myself.”
He swallows, hard. Something flashes in his eyes....worry maybe. His fists flex on the sheets. He’s ready to catch it, whatever it is. Ready to catch me.
I look away because my throat burns. “I told you about running away from my foster home. With...” the name feels like glass, I choke it out, “..with Andrew.”
I risk a glance back. He’s locked onto me like my words are oxygen and he’ll suffocate if he misses one.
“But I wasn't clear on why. The truth is—”
“I love you.”
It tears through me. I freeze. The words land like fire and flood...burning, drowning, saving me all at once. I swear I forget how to breathe. My mouth opens but nothing comes. And the way he’s looking at me.... it’s devastating. Like he's staking his claim in the center of my chaos. His eyes are stripped down, like he’s cracked his own chest open and put everything inside it in my hands.
He leans in, relentless. “I’m saying it now, before you say whatever it is you’re planning to. And I’ll tell you again afterwards. Because what I feel for you doesn’t come with conditions, Jax. You don’t have to earn it by bleeding out some truth. You don’t have to test if I mean it by exposing whatever darkness you're holding onto.” His voice cuts like a blade, steady and merciless. “ So tell me, whatever it is, but do so knowing that I love you.”
My gaze ricochets around the room...walls, the dresser, the ceiling....anywhere but him. Because his eyes are too much. They’ll undo me if I look too long. I’m shaking, restless, wired with everything I can’t get out. I rake a hand through my hair, yank at the strands, muttering under my breath, “Fuck, Xander.... why do you keep doing this to me?”
Because he does, every damn time. He strips me down, clean and merciless, like he’s got a map of all the places I swore I’d keep hidden. He says the exact thing I didn’t even know I was waiting to hear until it’s already unraveling me. Like he’s tuned into some frequency in my chest I can’t even access myself.
I’m the one who’s supposed to keep control, to dictate how much of myself I show and when. Yet cuts me open, but then he’s the one to press his hand over the wound, telling me it won’t kill me, telling me I’m safe.
He smiles, but it’s cracked around the edges, pained in a way that claws at me. “I just told you why.” His hand finds mine, his thumb strokes once across my knuckles like he’s daring me to argue. “But in case you didn’t hear me...” his gaze holds mine, unwavering, “...it’s because I love you.”
It’s scathing in its simplicity. Because it doesn’t matter what filth I drag up, what shadows I confess. He’s saying it won’t make a difference. That my worst can’t touch the way he feels.
I take a breath that feels like it could split me open and I reach for him, pulling him close, our foreheads pressing together. My chest is shaking, my voice wrecked when I finally let it out...“I love you, Xander. So fucking much it’s tearing me apart.”