Kiss Marry Kill, page 4
Even though Megan appreciated Jax having her back, he needed to cool it. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to start a big argument with her mother right after the night she’d had.
“Jax . . .” She reached for his forearm, trying to get him to focus on her. But he didn’t. “Just let it go. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. You’re upset.”
“It’s none of your concern what she is or isn’t,” her mother said.
Megan pushed her chair back, causing it to screech against the marble floor. “I can’t deal with this right now. Both of you, just stop it!”
Her mother’s shoulders relaxed a little as she narrowed her stare one final time at Jax. “Come on, Megan, grab a bag and come stay with me for a little while until this is all sorted. Your father took a late flight back from New York and should be here soon. He cancelled his depositions for the next few days.” Even though her relationship with her father had improved in the last year and a half, Megan was still surprised to see him worried to the point of putting her ahead of his work.
“That’s not happening,” Jax replied before Megan had a chance to respond.
Living with her parents was not a great idea, Megan agreed, even if only for a few days. She loved how they’d recently grown close, but being in the same space for a prolonged period of time would surely jeopardize whatever progress they’d made. But still, it wasn’t Jax’s call to make.
“Excuse me?” Megan turned to Jax.
“You’re not staying anywhere that I haven’t had a chance to secure.” His jaw twitched with every word.
“So what do you propose I do?” Megan asked, incredulously.
“You’ll stay with me for a few days until I feel this house is safe.”
Megan’s eyes widened in disbelief, and all her irritability morphed into shock.
“Hey, Rose, let’s go see what’s going on up front. There’s a cute cop I’d like to get your opinion on,” Nelly, God bless her, suggested.
“You do know I’m not stupid, right? Just tell me to get out, if you want me out,” Rose huffed on her way out of the kitchen.
Tonight Megan had gone through the full spectrum of emotions. She was drained and even though she was happy to see Jax and was hopeful they could become reacquainted, right now all she wanted was to crawl into her bed, maybe cry a little in private, and ultimately sleep for the next twelve hours. “I’m not staying with you, Jax. I haven’t seen you in five years, I don’t really even know you, and I’m exhausted.”
“You know me well enough. I have a spare room. And my house is safe.” He had on his impassive face again. The one that wasn’t warm and welcoming. The one that reminded her of how little she knew this new Jax.
“I’d have stayed anywhere with you, no questions asked, five years ago. Now, no. I’m scared, I’m tired, you’re intense—and to be honest, a little scary. But most important, I knew you for four days five years ago. You could be as crazy as Ryan for all I know.”
“You know that’s not true. You know I wouldn’t let anything hurt you, not then and not now.” She let her shoulders sag a little because she did know he wouldn’t hurt her—but that didn’t mean she was going to go home with him. That would be foolish and irresponsible and . . . too tempting.
He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit, which she did. “I’m sorry, Megan.” He sat on the chair across from her and took her hands in his, unconsciously rubbing the tops of her hands with his calloused thumb. “Sometimes I forget what civilian life is like. I don’t mean to be so harsh, but it’s coming from a good place, Meg. I didn’t like hearing about your stalker on TV, much less finding you terrified and hiding in a closet.”
Meg.
Wow, that brought back so many good memories. That’s all she could focus on. Meg. How he had quickly become so integral in her life back then. No one having ever called her anything other than Megan. No one caring enough to really get to know her—the real her. The girl who wanted to sing, to be free, and wild . . . and be Meg. Not Megan, the rich proper girl who couldn’t do something as lowly as singing. He’d changed her to her core in just a few days. That’s not true. He didn’t change her. He helped her see herself for the first time in her life. The change was all on her, he just brought it out of her. Of course she trusted him. It was irrational and maybe a little crazy, but she did.
“You’ve changed,” she said, seizing the chance to talk about something other than the Ryan situation.
“So have you.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“But I’m still the same person inside. I’d never hurt you, you have to know that.”
“I do.” And it was true, she believed that from the depth of her soul. But the fact that he was so brooding, even when he was being protective and sweet, standing vigil while the cops questioned her, taking her side with her mother—he was still a little scary and a lot intense.
“Please, come home with me. Just for tonight.” God, another time, another place, she’d have jumped all over a proposition like that from Jax.
“I’m having déjà vu,” she admitted. He had made the same request five years ago. And saying yes had been the best decision of her life.
He smiled. “It’s late. You’re exhausted. My house is safe, safer than anywhere else you could possibly go, and I have an extra room.” It didn’t go unnoticed that he repeated that second part and she wasn’t sure if he was saying it for her benefit or for his own. He was still so attractive. More so, even. But with the night she’d had, all she wanted was sleep. And even though there was some affection in the way he looked at her, too many years had passed. The time they had spent together had been so short-lived that whatever he had felt for her had likely fizzled away. “Please,” he begged, almost a whisper.
With a yawn, she finally relented. “Okay. I’ll go tell Nelly and my mom.”
Chapter 3
FIVE YEARS EARLIER
It was supposed to be a fun Thursday afternoon.
Jax sat in seat L213 just like he had every year since he was a little boy. When his dad had been alive, he’d sat in L214. Coming to the baseball game without his father was still difficult, and the loud douchebag yapping into his phone two seats to his right wasn’t helping matters. The only thing keeping him from losing his cool was the brown-eyed beauty he’d taken notice of the two times she’d jumped up to cheer and accidentally brushed her plump ass against his shoulder. She was in seat L214, his dad’s seat, between himself and the douche. With a foam finger, terrible taste in beer, and a teal Florida Marlins T-shirt, she knew when to cheer, when to boo, and when to curse at the ump’s bad calls. Her brown hair was in a thick ponytail under her cap and she had bangs sweeping across her forehead that bounced around when she moved. Her thick lips glistened with some sort of gloss and her cheeks were pink from the exertion of cheering and yelling as well as from the sun beating down on them. But the best part of her—aside from her delicious jean shorts–covered ass—was those big brown expressive eyes. Not that he’d noticed much about her.
Being so close to her, mere inches away, when she put down her foam finger and took off her baseball cap to smooth out her hair meant the flowery smell of her shampoo assaulted his senses.
These last few years, coming to the baseball games had been a somber event. He remembered how his father had cheered louder than anyone else every time the Marlins got a run. He’d openly slap Jax’s back and then hug him as if Jax had been the one scoring. Not an avid drinker, his dad had terrible taste in beer, much like the beauty sitting next to him. He’d wear top to bottom teal and give Jax a hard time for not doing the same. He never felt closer to his father than he did at the stadium.
But now surreptitiously watching the woman next to him had brought joy back into the game, even if only for today.
* * *
“Can’t that wait until after the game? They’re about to start.” Megan begged Richard Knight, her boyfriend of two years, to put his phone down and watch the baseball game. “Come on, it’s my last fun day before school starts next week.”
He looked up at her with an annoyed expression. “I had fun in law school. You will too. This is just a game, Megan. I have work to do.”
“But you promised.” She mentally cringed at the slight whine in her voice. She shouldn’t have to beg her boyfriend to be present at the game with her.
“I promised I’d come with you, and here I am. You know how important making partner is for me. Not all of us have parents to pull strings for us.”
This wasn’t the first time he’d thrown that in her face. Sitting back down in a huff, Megan turned her attention to the game.
“Oh my god! Did you see that home run?” She asked a few minutes later, tugging on his shirt.
“Yeah, yeah.” But he was looking down at his phone and pulling his arm away from her grip. She glared at him, even if he wasn’t looking back at her. Sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder why they were together.
Richard was tall, lean, with ink-black hair meticulously brushed in a side part and a beautiful clean-shaven face that showcased his impressive cheekbones and strong jaw. But he looked so out of place at the ballpark, with his jeans and polo shirt, looking like he wished he was wearing a suit. Megan, on the other hand, was a T-shirt and jeans kind of girl, to her mother’s dismay. She wasn’t normally the life of the party, preferring to hang back and listen instead. But Richard was the kind of man that took control of a room by his mere presence. Women unabashedly stared at him and men kissed his ass wanting to befriend him. Even here at the ball game she saw the flirty glances from the women they’d walked past. Megan routinely felt pushed aside and forgotten. But when he was present, really present, he was the embodiment of a perfect boyfriend: sweet and attentive. Lately, however, those moments were few and far between. Sometimes she felt like a wallflower and she was coming to understand that maybe she’d been made to feel that way by being constantly pushed aside by her parents and by Richard. But maybe she didn’t want to be a wallflower. She loathed that she craved his affection so profoundly—the little morsels he threw her way, she’d store and relish and feel grateful for. And that made her unhappy with herself. Somewhere deep inside, she knew she was stronger than that.
The realization hit her hard and fast. She was young, successful, and attractive. She shouldn’t have to plead for him to be with her. Richard wasn’t better than her. No, she was too damn good for him.
Feeling annoyed and suddenly determined, she stood up. “I’m going to grab a drink.”
“I’m good,” he said without bothering to look up or even notice that she didn’t offer to get him anything.
Balancing nachos, popcorn, and a soda, Megan awkwardly made her way back to her seat, deciding she was going to enjoy the day even if she had to do so alone. The poor guy in the seat next to her shifted his legs to the side to give her room as she sat back down and began to stuff popcorn in her mouth. Funny how she had more physical contact with that guy, whose leg bobbed up and down, brushing along her own, then she did with her own boyfriend.
When the guy stood up to cheer, Megan glanced up at him. He was also tall and lean, but unlike Richard, this guy had an all-American look to him with his blondish shaggy hair, jeans, and sweet smile. Where Richard was handsome in a “spends a lot of time in front of the mirror styling his hair” sort of way, the guy next to her looked like he woke up, threw on an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and headed out. He looked perfectly comfortable in his casual clothes. Catching herself staring at the way his jeans hugged his impressive thighs, she quickly looked down at her popcorn. She found herself wondering why he was there alone.
It was a close game and everyone cheered and hollered—everyone except Richard, which was making it harder for her to keep to her resolve to have a good day. Right now, she was this close to pouring the entire untouched cup of beer on his head. He’d bought her beer earlier, which was probably the moment her anger began. She didn’t like beer. How did he not know this? Did he know her at all?
“Oh my god! Look!” She pulled on Richard’s arm and pointed up to the screen. “We’re on the jumbotron! You have to kiss me. It’s the kiss cam, Richard!”
She leaned over but he swatted her away and the crowd booed.
“Richard!” she yelled again, again pointing to the screen, hating herself for having to beg.
When he continued to ignore her, she hunched over and looked around, embarrassed. Once the camera was off them she leaned closer and asked, “Why did you bother coming if you weren’t even going to watch?” Normally, she was quiet and reserved and internalized her emotions because Cruzes didn’t show emotions. But right now she wasn’t sad. She was pissed.
“I did it for you because you kept saying you wanted to come. I hate baseball. You know that.”
“Actually I did not know that.” What else didn’t she know about him? He didn’t know she hated beer and she didn’t know he hated baseball. A day at the ballpark seemed silly now, what they needed was freakin’ counseling!
Her parents had been putting pressure on them to marry and Richard seemed completely on board with the plan, although he hadn’t proposed. These days, they barely saw each other. She was sick of it. She understood he had goals, but she wanted to be important in his life. How delusional had she been in thinking maybe they could have fun today, re-spark their relationship before their lives started to get even more hectic. But instead of connected, she felt even more distant.
How many times had she watched some boring political documentary because he wanted to watch it? She’d done it for him without a peep, and the man couldn’t be bothered to at least pretend he wanted to be here.
She sat with her arms crossed over her chest, the game effectively ruined by his sour mood. The bobbing leg of the guy on her left was getting annoying, too. Even though he smelled wonderful—some sort of manly cologne she’d never smelled before. A scent very different from Richard’s exorbitantly priced Dior Sauvage that he liked to douse himself with whenever he left his house. Lately she had been feeling things change between them. It was an overwhelming sense of loneliness that she couldn’t shake off. She felt silly and guilty for feeling this way with a boyfriend at her side, so she’d shut the emotion off, ignoring it and trying to make the best of things. But even sitting there with him, it was as if she was alone.
When everyone began to cheer, she forced herself to look up at the jumbotron again. “Richard! Look!” She pointed up, wiping the scowl off her face, suddenly desperate to prove to herself and the world that there was some spark in their relationship, some romance. “It’s the kiss cam again. Come on, please, it’ll take two seconds.”
Again he brushed her off, and she fought back tears.
What an asshole!
People were whispering and pointing all around the stadium. She groaned to herself, Oh, God, my humiliation is being televised for the entire nation to witness.
She slid lower in her chair and tilted the bill of her cap down. It was a harsh reality to face in front of thousands of people, but one that struck her hard and fast like a bucket of cold water.
This was the end.
Richard was not only a selfish bastard, he was a selfish bastard who didn’t want her. But the real sobering surprise was that she didn’t even care because she didn’t want him either.
* * *
For the second time, the asshole rejected her.
Again they were on display and again her obtuse guy refused to kiss her. She’d elbowed him, but he was too busy typing into his phone to pay her any mind. She looked downright crestfallen and embarrassed in front of a maxed-out stadium, slouched down hiding her eyes with her baseball cap.
Jax didn’t know what came over him in the moment but something definitely did. It was probably his fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants character or maybe the fact that she didn’t deserve to be humiliated. No girl did. Especially not this girl.
He tapped her on the shoulder.
She turned, her eyes full of unshed tears.
From his peripheral vision he could see she was still spotlighted on the jumbotron.
He was moments away from doing something bold and inappropriate. And those big sad brown eyes, glossy downturned lips, and pink cheeks fueled him.
Without hesitation he cupped her face and moved in for a kiss.
It was supposed to be an attempt to piss off her boyfriend, or perhaps a way to counteract her humiliation. Spin things around and make her look like a desirable woman instead of some sort of scorned victim.
But something else happened.
Fuck.
Was that strawberry lip gloss or did the woman taste like fucking strawberries?
Jax brushed his lips over hers softly before deepening the daring peck into something more.
More intimate.
More meaningful.
And so very sensual.
She gasped, her breath a soft hitch in the back of her throat, which quickly turned into some sort of needy moan that made him instantly harden. She could’ve pulled away, she should’ve slapped him. But she didn’t do any of those things. Instead, as the crowd cheered them on and her boyfriend yelled at them, her hand fisted his shirt and she pulled him to her, her nails digging into his skin.
And if the entire scene wasn’t erotic enough, this woman, the woman who’d just been rejected on national television, slipped her tongue into his mouth. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d thought she wouldn’t reciprocate but that wasn’t the case. Not at all. She was the one taking control now. It shocked him so much that he pulled away slightly, searched her face before going in for more.
Because he needed more.
He needed everything.
In reality it was probably only thirty seconds, but it felt as if they were suspended in time. The entire crowd disappeared and it was just two people having the best first kiss in the history of kisses.
“Want to get out of here?” he whispered in her ear when they finally pulled away. He could hear the way his own hoarse voice shook. If she had said no . . . he was likely to have carried her out of the stadium caveman style. Because he had just had a tiny taste and he needed more. But she looked into his eyes, then up at the stadium for a brief moment before smiling, confidently.
