Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

Jax drags his chair to the side of the bench, and grabs onto my unoccupied hand. “Finger tattoos hurt more than some other ones. Squeeze my hand whenever you’re in pain. It’ll be over sooner than you know it.”

My mind focuses on his touch rather than the burning sensation. “Wow. How did you cover your entire body in these?”

“Pain is only temporary.” Jax offers a tight smile.

Alan gets back to work. I clutch onto Jax’s hand like a lifeline, concentrating on his thumb rubbing against my skin soothingly. Caleb chats with Alan while I remain entranced by Jax.

I look into his eyes, catching him staring at me. Fighting the urge to turn away, I allow myself to give in to the moment. His eyes darken as they roam over my body, lingering on my chest before meeting mine again.

Go me for picking the green dress tonight. The look he sends my way makes the strapless bra all the more worth it.

“Fuck. You’re really something else. Beautiful, inside and out, which is painfully cheesy to say.” He brings my hand up to his face and presses his lips against the fragile bones. My body burns with want as I focus on my reaction toward him rather than the needle prodding my skin.

I scrunch my nose in mock disgust. “Who knew you lacked any flirting skills?”

“That’s because he usually doesn’t have to work for it since women fall into his lap. Give him a run for his money,” Caleb says over the buzzing of the needle.

“Does the kid ever know when to shut up?” Jax mumbles under his breath.

“Nope. I started talking at a year old and never stopped. My mum threatened to buy me a muzzle.”

Alan gives me the all-clear to move off the bench, ending my moment with Jax. “I haven’t had a request from that movie before.”

My vision becomes fuzzy as I assess the mocking jay pin covering the scar from the night of my parents’ deaths. I attempt to hide my emotions, but Jax grabs my hand and assesses the dainty tattoo.

“Interesting choice for a first tattoo.”

“Big Katniss Everdeen fan, I take it?” Caleb bumps his shoulder against mine.

“Hmm.” Quite the opposite. But I can’t ignore the connection I have to the story, seeing as it’s one of the last memories I have of my dad.

Jax helps me up from the bench.

“Anything for you, mate?” Alan points the needle at Jax.

He shakes his head. “No. I’m good today.”

Jax ignores my request to pay for the tattoo. He covers the costs of everything and leads us to the exit. We all stop, staring at the pouring rain, not finding our town car in sight.

“Shit. Let me check on the driver.” Jax pulls out his cellphone and walks back inside, leaving us under the awning.

“Hey, Caleb, have you ever danced in the rain?”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Is it okay for you to be in the rain for a few minutes?”

“I like the way you think. Plus, I never say no to a lady.” He beams.

I grab onto his hand and drag him into the storm. The rain beats against our skin as I play a random song on my phone. Caleb grabs my hand and spins me around.

Is it reckless for Caleb to expose himself like this? Yes.

Is it worthy of his own snow-globe moment? Absolutely.

28

Jax