Fallen Angel (The List #3) Page 3

My response? I sobbed, big fat tears. I told her that I truly felt like a moth to a flame. It’s as though any decisions concerning Jax have never been mine to make. Things just keep falling into place and we’ve let them. I was drawn to him from the second I laid my naïve eyes on him and I haven’t stopped since. Like a moth to a flame, I have accepted the inevitable; that I will get hurt in the end.

  I completely avoided the whole craziness around Jax getting stabbed and me getting warned off by the ice queen herself, Carmel. That was to protect Jax’s privacy and not because I wanted to stand by Carmel telling me to forget what I’d seen…

  I suppose my trio of 4x4 orgasms was also private but that kind of personal is forgivable when it comes to retelling unimaginable sexual moments of your life with your best friend.

  Once we’d seen the bottom of two mugs of hot chocolate and a tub of cookie dough ice-cream, we hugged at the top of the stairs and went to bed. I was emotionally exhausted and mentally drained.

  That’s when I allowed Thursday night to slowly crawl back into my mind’s eye from the blurry patch I’d shoved it at the back of my head. Maybe it was because I hadn’t got it off my chest during my regurgitation with Wills, I felt I needed to relive it.

  Some parts are more vivid than others, like the sight of Jax’s blood rinsing away from my hands, swirling down the plughole. Or the piercing protectiveness in his eyes when he looked after me, whilst I was trying to look after him. I promised him that night, when I kissed his soft lips, that everything was going to be okay.

  I told him I’d fallen in love with him and then retracted it with my next breath. But nevertheless, I still put it out there and swiftly followed it up by running out on him without even saying goodbye. Incidentally Bethany, all this happened whilst he still had a fucking knife sticking into of him.

  Major fuck up on my part. I panicked and bailed, lamely convincing myself I was doing the right thing. I wasn’t, it was the coward’s way out and I grabbed it with both hands and ran, leaving the sneering look on Carmel’s face tainting my last images of Jax’s place.

  I draw my strength from his strength, which ironically makes him my weakness. But now’s the time for me to woman up. He hasn’t reached out to me yet and I’m hoping that’s because he’s recuperating. I need to speak to him. No, in fact, I need to listen to him, to hopefully be reassured by the warmth of his voice.

  God, I miss the sound of his voice. I miss the delicious authoritative tone he uses during sex or the playful tone that comes out when we’re messing around.

  I’m still lying in bed, looking and feeling like crap but Fuck It, I’m going to call him whilst I’m in this frame of mind. I don’t want to give myself the chance to chicken out.

  Before I know it, the phone is at my ear calling Jax but it flicks straight to voicemail. I immediately call Jack instead and he answers on the second ring.

  “Bethany?”

  “Hey, how’s the patient?”

  “He’s doing well, provided he’s under close supervision.”

  “Why’s that?”

  That doesn’t sound good.

  “Oh no sorry, it’s nothing medical. It’s more like babysitting duties now because he is pig-headed and finds it difficult to follow instructions and rest. Anyway, Bethany, how are you doing sweetheart?”

  That was so much more than a casual ‘how are you doing?’ I feel like he knows something I don’t.

  “Okay, I guess. I’m sorry, you know, that I left. I think it got a bit too much for me. I didn’t want to interrupt. I should’ve come and spoken to him, I realise that now. Is he mad with me?”

  “Do you want to ask him that yourself, he is right here—Bethany?”

  “Erm—does he want to talk to me?”

  Jack doesn’t answer immediately, I wonder if he’s asking Jax. I hear the whirring of the overhead fan, which means they’re in Jax’s bedroom.

  “B?” Double shit… I bolt upright in bed with my heart already sprinting ahead on the sound of Jax’s voice.

  “Hey G—” Caught unawares, the butterflies in my tummy are frantically bumping into each other, going berserk. I feel stupidly nervous. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

  “Likewise.”

  I hear him asking Jack to give him a minute.

  “So I hear you’re doing well.”

  “I am, yes. B, we need to talk.”

  “We are talking.”

  “No, face to face. Here. Can you come over, please?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I—”

  “—did she say something to you?” Oh God. Is this where he tells me that Carmel and him have some sort of long term twisted on-off relationship and he wants to terminate the ‘with-benefits’ element of our friendship… “Well, did she?”

  “Yeah.”

  He lets out a faded exasperated sigh and then puts the phone back to his mouth.

  “Will you come over?”

  “Wouldn’t you prefer to wait a few more days until you’re feeling better?” Why am I trying to delay this? “Me and you aren’t important. No, I didn’t mean… I mean right now… I mean you’re more important than me, than us… F-fuck. When?”

  “Now?”

  The short pause and wobble in his voice tells me he’s amused. He likes it when I get flustered. He says it’s endearing. Nobody gets me flustered the way he does, which is strange considering nobody actually gets me the way he does. I think it’s just an emotions thing. Any emotion I feel is magnified when it’s got something to do with Jax.

  “Can you pass the phone back to Jack please?”

  “O-okay.”

  I hear him call Jack, who must’ve left the bedroom.

  “Bethany?”

  “Hey, is he up for visitors?”

  “Yes, yes of course sweetheart.”

  “And it’s just you two?”

  “Yes.”

  Thank God. The way Jack drags out that one syllable tells me he knows exactly what and why I was asking.

  “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

  “Oh and Bethany, don’t forget to bring your nurses uniform?”

  “Very funny. I don’t think that’s what he’s got in mind somehow.”

  “Who said anything about him?”

  “Goodbye, doctor!”

  Chapter Four

  1:20pm

  Jack gives me a surprisingly tight bear hug on the doorstep. Not in a creepy way, I’m a tactile person and apparently so is he. It echoes his friendly personality but leaves me curious as to why he feels I need comforting. Maybe I’m just being paranoid but… does he know I’m about to be completely friend zoned?

  We go through to the dreaded kitchen and everything is immaculate. Whilst we make a coffee he reassures me again that everything ran smoothly and other than the aftercare of his wound to help prevent infection, Jax is on the home straight. He reiterated how important it is that he rests. I told him that Jax and I are friends and that although I haven’t known him long, I do care about him. Not that Jack was prying, I actually steered the conversation that way. He didn’t say much. He didn’t have to, his face said it all.

  The combination between his genuine smile and the honesty in his eyes, tells me that he somehow already knows how much I care about Jax. No, it’s more than that, it tells me that he can see the first draft version of my words, the ones in my head before I filter them for his ears.

  I say, ‘We only met four weeks ago.’ But the pre-edited version was, ‘We only met four weeks ago and it’s been the best four weeks of my life.’

  I say, ‘It may sound strange but I do care about him.’ But the pre-edited version was, ‘It may sound totally fucked up but I absolutely love everything about him’.

  Jack stays downstairs fiddling with a new smartphone, whilst—on wobbly legs—I head up to Jax’s bedroom. Nerves set in again and I have to set the cups of coffee down on the steps halfway up to steady my hands.

  The bedroom door is open. I take a calming deep breat
h. Other than the conversation I’ve fabricated in my head, I’ve actually got no idea what he is planning to talk to me about. It could be any number of things. I cautiously walk in and find him asleep. I quietly set down the drinks on the nearest bedside table and take the time to drink him in instead.

  My God, he is stunning. His dark eyelashes, protruding from his puffy eyes, lie meticulously fanned out on his face. His lips look so soft and kissable, even with the cut on the outside of one corner. I notice his sexy stubble, which stands out because he always favours having a clean shaven face. I tried to convince him to leave it for a few days but he wouldn’t. I can almost feel it grazing the soft skin of my inner thighs. Yes.

  I’ve spent years going without sex for weeks at a time. I’m talking sexual deprivation. That almost seems impossible now. This man has me literally aching for sex. It’s as though he has fine-tuned my body to respond to him and only him. In fact, it’s not only sex. I ache for any physical contact from him. Like his kisses—those kisses. He has a whole catalogue of customised kisses just for me, which cater to the needs of any mood.

  Or when he delicately strokes my cheek with his strong hands and the way he unconsciously runs his thumb over my knuckles. He creates this unquestionable longing inside of me and the fact that he’s lying in front of me asleep, proves that it’s not his eyes, his voice or his words that trigger it. It’s simply him, everything about him. He doesn’t need to seduce me—as enjoyable as that is—his beautiful soul involuntarily does that all by itself.

  It’s not a choice, it’s not a decision. It’s simply the consequence of coexisting with him. A consequence of having our paths cross, is that now I’m not able to picture myself travelling down any other path, unless he is walking right there alongside with me.

  I notice he’s on the left side of his bed when he always sleeps on the right… He’s on my side.

  The bruising on his face has really come out now. His lip has scabbed over nicely and the cut on his eyebrow looks sound. He is topless, letting me admire his broad boulder shoulders in the flesh. It’s warm in here so the overhead fan’s still whirring away. The white covers are pulled up under his armpits. I glance down to his ribcage and visualise where the knife was.

  Suddenly struggling to swallow the dry imaginary lump in my throat, I take a sip of my coffee. Every part of me is lusting to reconnect with him, to selfishly take away this hollow emptiness, echoing inside of me. I want to reach out to him. He’s breathing so peacefully.

  How have I got myself into this situation? From the simple life—to this.

  I set down my cup, trying to distract myself from the urge to slide on the bed beside him and breathe him in. I want to steal away a secret moment to myself.

  Fuck It. I can’t resist him.

  I slip my pumps off and quietly slink on top of the covers to lie alongside him, propping my head up on my elbow. It’s strange being on his right-side. Jesus he smells good. He epitomises what I find irresistible. Or maybe I just find whatever it is that he epitomises irresistible. What came first, the chicken or the egg?

  I place my right hand on top of his and feel the smooth warmth of his skin. These hands, these wonderful hands. I’ve witnessed them protect me, dealing out a ferocious punch. I’ve also been on the receiving end of his gentle, caring, protective embraces too. Or when he strokes spine-tingling circles on the small of my back... Beyond lush.

  Whilst studying his hands, Jax stretches a little and spreads his fingers so that mine instinctively interlink. But he closes his hand into a fist, trapping my fingers loosely within his. That’s when I realise, without lifting my eyes to his face, that he’s woken up. His bare shoulder is right next to me so I lean forward an inch and kiss him there. He tightens his fist, causing me to look up at him.

  We silently stare into each other’s eyes, suddenly caught up in such a powerful moment. So much so that after a minute, my eyes well up with tears. He lets go of my hand to bring his thumb up, slowly wiping the first fallen tears away. Of course that action just encourages more of a silent down pour.

  Holding the nape of my neck, he pulls me over to meet the side of his face, with my lips at his ear.

  After another minute, it has the desired effect and I calm down, feeling closer to him emotionally as well as physically now. I hold his bicep as he still cradles my head. Our reconnection pulls me under quickly. He asked me here to ‘talk’ but all I want to do is touch.

  The man is practically bedridden yet all I’m thinking about is realistically how long will it be until penetration is back on the cards? I’ve got a couple more days of my period left, surely by then… Revisit your priorities Bethany. Miss Fierce is checking the calendar. Miss Sensible is tapping her foot, clearly not impressed.

  I reach across to the bedside table and grab a soft tissue out of the handy box, bypassing the lukewarm coffees. I wipe my eyes and blow my nose—attractive. I move to get myself more comfortable and clear my throat.

  Sitting on my knees facing him, I lean my face over his until we’re inches away from each other.

  “I’m so sorry… for leaving. I was scared and I bolted. It was selfish of me when deep down all I really wanted to do was to sit next to you, to lie next to you. I should’ve stayed. I’m sorry.”

  Jax quietly absorbs my words.

  “It’s okay… I was buzzing off the morphine for a while and I’ve mostly been sleeping. I was disappointed that you’d gone and when I found your note, it was confusing. It didn’t sound like you. ‘Sorry, had to leave. Call me.’ The B I know would’ve filled that sheet with an essay—double-sided. I was worried about you.”

  “I’m sorry. Jack tells me you’re doing great provided you rest—” He nods but cuts me off.

  “What did Carmel say to you?”

  “I don’t know if I should—”

  “Unfiltered honesty Beth.”

  Our agreement is to try not to think before we speak. We’re comfortable enough and trust each other to speak the truth no matter what. Except of course for the things we choose not to discuss with each other. It’s okay to hold back as long as we don’t lie to one another. What would my response be if he outright asked me how I feel about him? No comment.

  “O-okay. She warned me to stay away, which doesn’t seem to be working out for me right now.”

  “What else?”

  “Erm… She said I don’t know you, I don’t belong here, I should get out of your life and that you don’t need a little girl messing with your head. Oh and to make sure I forgot about everything I saw.”

  Jax listens with a frown furrowing deeper in his brow. He pauses before speaking.

  “Carmel… she thinks she’s doing the right thing. It’s nothing personal. She means well, she was trying to look out for me.”

  “Yeah, I sort of figured that one out for myself. Maybe you’ll tell me why some day. But Jax, she’s not the reason I left. I mean, she’s part of it but not because of what she said, it was my reaction to seeing her with you. It was irrational and… uncalled for. It made me feel uncomfortable because I have no hold over you. We’re just friends. I’m not a bitter, bitchy person. I don’t want to be that girl.”

  “You don’t need to explain anything to me B. The whole night was fucked up. I didn’t expect Carmel to come with Jack otherwise I would’ve forewarned you. She can be intense.”

  “Who is she anyway? I mean, I take it you and her are or have been… intimate?”

  Props to bold Beth. Jax adjusts his position with a grimace of pain.

  “It’s… complicated. We have a history. I care about her, but we’re not fucking each other. Even though she had my best interests at heart, she had no right to speak to you like that and I promise it won’t happen again. You’ve got nothing to worry about, I’ll deal with her.”

  “So you’ve never slept with her?”

  Please say he hasn’t… Please say he hasn’t…

  “I didn’t say that.” That little piece of hope vanishes. I
bite my tongue long enough for him to fill the gap without me having to probe further. “It was once, when we first met a few years ago. But not since.”

  “Okay… So is that what you wanted to talk to me about, her?”

  “Not just that. The main thing was to tell you how grateful I am for what you did for me.” I shake my head wanting him to stop talking. “Beth, listen to me, I’m sorry for putting you through all of that, it was my fault.”

  I’m not sure whether I can revisit the specifics now, with Jax. Seeing his blood-stained face, the gut wrenching feeling when I first saw the knife handle and it first dawned on me that he’d been stabbed. Feeling his bloodied tee as I cut it away. Giving him that injection. Tears knock on the doors once more but I fight them back. Jax goes on.