Jax lets me get away with ignoring him, simply shaking his head at me. He glances around the living room, his gaze lingering on the textbook spread open on the coffee table before moving to the television. His smile lets me know he knows I gave up on the textbook and started watching True Grit. "You redecorated."
"Undecorated," I correct, nodding to the little nail holes in the walls. "We're trying to get ready for the move." We're not doing a very good job. So far, all we've managed to do is take the pictures down and put them in boxes. Everything else is still exactly where it was two weeks ago when we agreed we were going to start going through stuff and packing.
Moving sucks. We'd rather be lazy and watch Netflix.
"Come on," he says, holding out a hand toward me.
I stare at it for a long, silent moment.
"I won't bite you, rabbit." His voice is softer than normal, quieter. Crap. I'm hurting his feelings.
I slip my hand into his, trying not to let him see how having his skin against mine affects me. As soon as his rough hand wraps around mine, an electric charge races up my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. My nipples get even harder. I could get addicted to touching him. It always feels so damn good.
Why did I have to fall for the one guy on the planet I can't have?
He pulls me over to the couch and then nudges me to get me to sit. I let him put me where he wants me. Like Cyrus, Jax is stubborn and a bossy pants. It doesn't really bother me. I know it's how they show they care.
Besides, they've both been in the military their entire adult lives. Orders keep them and their teammates alive in situations I can't even think about without wanting to cry. Neither of them tells me much about the things they've seen and done over the years. They both say they do what they do so people like me don't have to know. Jax shares a little with me. Not much.
I try not to push. It just makes him anxious.
"How is being a SEAL and a billionaire supposed to work?" I ask, genuinely curious as he drops the bag of food in my lap. He gets called on for all sorts of last-minute missions. I don't know how he's supposed to juggle both responsibilities without cracking under the weight. If anyone could do it though, it would be him. He makes being in charge look effortless.
"It's not. Do you have beer?"
"In the fridge. What do you mean it's not?"
He ignores my question, instead striding toward the kitchen. Our apartment is small, with an open floorplan. He rummages around in the fridge for a second before I hear him grunt.
I smile at the sound, knowing it means he's satisfied with the beer. He's kind of a beer snob…which is why I keep the good stuff here. Cyrus will drink anything, but Jax is picky.
A second later, he pushes the fridge door closed with his boot before striding back toward me, two beers in one hand and a can of hard seltzer in the other.
He holds the seltzer out to me, his brows furrowed. "I don't know how you drink this shit."
"Easy," I snark, popping the top open and then taking a big drink. "Like that."
He rewards my sass with another grin. "Smart ass."
"You–" I cut myself off before I can say you love me. That's a minefield I am so not stepping in right now. "Um, you didn't answer my question."
"I did."
I scowl at him. He would think that non-answer was satisfactory. I swear, men gossip way worse than women, but when you want to know something, getting anything more than monosyllables from them is impossible.
"I'm not a SEAL anymore," he says, twisting the top off one of the beers and then taking a long drink.
I gape at him, shocked. "Jax, what? You're not a SEAL anymore? Since when?"
He ignores me again, instead grabbing the bag off my lap to sort it out. As soon as Ruby hears it rustle, she gives up licking her empty container and comes running over. Even though it's not physically possible for her belly to hold anything else, she's greedy.
"Roo, no more," Jax says.
She glances up at him and then whines once before she runs back to her container. She picks it up in her mouth and carries it over to her bed. I'll have to steal it while she's asleep to put it in the trash or she'll have a fit. Once you give something to her, she does not give it up easily or willingly.
If dogs could hoard, Ruby would be the worst.
"Here, baby," Jax says, holding my food out to me.
Oh my gosh. I'm going to strangle him if he doesn't start talking soon.
"You're driving me crazy!" I cry, grabbing the to-go container from him. "What happened? You loved being a SEAL."
"It didn't suck," he agrees.
I growl at him.
"I'm not ignoring your question," he promises, sitting beside me, so close we're basically sharing the same cushion. His long leg presses against my shorter one, making me shiver. Even through his pants and my leggings, I feel the heat of his body.
I've never been a small girl. All my life, I've been tall and curvy. But Jax makes me feel small in the best way. He's a warrior, a Titan, so damn big and immovable. There's nothing little about him. It's impossible to miss him, and even more impossible not to feel safe as houses with him nearby. I love that he makes me feel feminine and cared for without even trying.
"You aren't answering me either," I mutter. Not even I can deny that I'm pouting about it. Which is entirely his fault. I've never pouted. He just makes me crazy. I think it's the sexual frustration. Being constantly turned on has to be bad for my health.