Page 11 of Chaos

He was right earlier. I have nowhere to go. I let out a gasp as his hot palm touches the small of my back and the silver doors slide open.

“Hey, come on, let me get you that drink?” The softness in his voice catches me off guard.

I cautiously step inside the massive apartment. Before I can take in just how beautiful it is, I scan the room. Almost waiting for Brody to pop up from somewhere. As a few moments pass, I relax slightly and step out of Jax’s reach.

He watches me move around the room, peeking through the open doors. “Trust me, he won’t be here. He doesn’t even know where I live, and he never will.”

Tugging hold of my hand, he leads me through the living room, complete with a theater-sized TV screen up on the wall and black leather sofas.

As we get to the kitchen, he pulls out a bar stool and heads straight to the refrigerator, picking out two bottles of beer and opening the caps with his teeth, making me cringe.

“Here, I have plenty more.” He offers one of the drinks to me.

“Thank you.” My fingers wrap around the cold glass, and I watch as he tips back his head, downing the contents in no time.

Hell, maybe he’s had a crappy day, too.

As he goes to grab another, he stops. “You don’t like beer? I have harder stuff if you want it?”

“No, it’s fine,” I reply, taking a sip. It’s like an instant relaxer.

He takes a seat beside me and his muscular thigh brushes against me. His close proximity makes my body heat.

“So, what do you need?” His words are low, but they feel like they’re burning into me.

I spin to face him. “What do you mean?”

His teeth flash over his lower lip before taking another sip of his beer.

“Well, we can sit in silence, you can tell me to fuck off to another room, or, I don’t know, play a game?” He spins the bottom of his drink in the wet circle of condensation on the table.

“You’d just leave me here in your house to drink your booze? Why?”

He shrugs, twisting in his chair.

He’s right, I normally wouldn’t want to talk. I’d retreat and try to fix myself on my own. Yet, for some reason, his company is kind of comforting. He’s actually relaxing to be around. Even if he seems to carry a tension in his shoulders like a coiled snake.

“You had a shitty day. I’ve promised you a drink. If you don’t wanna talk, you don’t have to.”

I blink at him a few times. He isn’t like his brother. Brody is a control freak, an uptight one, who always needed to press everything.

Jax, however, seems to understand what it’s like to be hurt. To not want to talk. Maybe he’s like me? We suck it up and get on with life.

That’s how I dealt with my parents’ deaths. That’s why it didn’t break me.

“A game? What do you have in mind?”

His face softens before I’m given one of those sexy, lopsided grins.

“Never have I ever?”

I let out a laugh. I haven’t played this in years.

“Well, that’s a blast from the past,” I reply. “Count me in.”

“How old are you?” he asks, raising a brow.

“Twenty-four. You?”