Reckless (Forever 6)

Groaning in frustration, I went upstairs to get some air on the sundeck. I took a seat at the bar and poured myself a glass of whiskey, hoping to calm my nerves.

It was midway through my second round when Jax suddenly appeared from the stairwell, his expression serious. He’d put on a shirt that matched his black leather pants since I last saw him. As always, he looked too gorgeous. No matter how much I wanted to avoid him, push him away, or be mad at him, I couldn’t help the part of me that was attracted to him.

I set my glass down and felt the welling of emotions rise to the surface. I stood and pointed angrily at him. "You made me wait almost two hours for you! I told you, I was sorry. I thought we were past these petty games!"

"Sit down," he commanded, pointing to the barstool I’d risen from. "The time for games is f**king over. You crossed the line messing up my goddamn show! I knew I shouldn't have trusted you."

His voice shook me. I was scared at first but then I realized he was yelling at me for something that wasn’t entirely my fault. I remained standing. "I did what I had to do! You're the one who's acting like a damn princess!"

He approached me, shaking his head as if I didn’t get it. "You asked me to make cuts, and I did. Now you're making cuts behind my back . . ." He snatched my drink from the counter and pounded away the remaining contents. "All for that f**king bonus," he said, slamming the glass down so that the ice cubes rattled.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, taken aback. "That's not the way it is—"

His eyes blazed. "I let you sleep in my bed. I let you talk me into trusting you. You said you wanted to keep things professional between us, but here you've been f**king with me this whole time."

Oh god, that’s what he thinks? I could hear it simmering beneath the surface, in his voice and in his words—the tension between us that had been building over the past couple of days as we’d gotten closer.

He grabbed my arm, firmly enough to be intimidating. "Tell me, what was going through your head when you made the cut, huh? Did you trick the pyrotech too?"

My eyes stung. I threw his arm off me. "Damn it, Jax!" I cried, unable to stop a tear from falling down my cheek as I faced him. "The fire marshall came to talk to me! I had to make a choice."

"What?" he said, his volume still elevated.

I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand. "He said we had to either cut the Monster Inferno or pay an extra ten grand for ballistics insurance."

The fire in his eyes waned. His brows furrowed. "The f**k?"

"There wasn't time to check with you! I had to make a decision. And I did."

He put his hand to his head and exhaled in a rush. "God. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve changed the routine if I’d known."

"I told the pyrotech, I thought he was going to tell you!"

His hand covered his eyes and he shook his head. "Fuck."

"I know," I said softly. "I’m sorry."

"Jesus . . ." he said shaking his head lightly. "Ten grand for insurance? Really?"

"Yeah."

An uncomfortable silence passed between us that seemed to last an eternity. We’d apparently cleared up the miscommunication, but the damage had been done. It was obvious that the unspoken tension between us was becoming a problem—not just for me, but for him as well. It’d be easier for the both of us if we could end whatever this weird thing was between us and start over as professionals.

"Jax, I've been thinking—"

Strong arms wrapped around my body, pulling me into his Jax’s chest. My train of thoughts faltered. I could only think about how good it felt to be embraced in his arms. I could feel his warmth cocooning me, his beating chest pressed against my tear-stained cheek. It felt right, like the first thing in years that made sense in my chaotic life.

He released the hug and looked down at me.

"What was that for?" I asked, surprised.

His dark eyes were gentle as they stared into mine. "I’m sorry for blaming you."

I blushed. "Well, that's a nice gesture," I said, meaning it.

He tilted his head and touched his lips tenderly to mine. Caught off guard, it took a second before I remembered that I owed him a post-show kiss. I began to reciprocate, pressing my lips softly against his. It was nearly the opposite of the lust-driven kiss we’d had last time. This one was almost scary in its intimacy.

He gently pulled away. When I opened my eyes, he was looking at me, smiling. "I figured we could use it to smooth things over."

I nodded, my mind still lingering on the tenderness of the kiss.

He put his arm around my shoulder and exhaled deeply. "The others are at the after party. You can go if you want—no one's gonna hold it against you for having a drink or two—but it's been a long day for me. I'm going to relax in the hot tub."

I sighed heavily, equally exhausted. "I think I'm just going to chill out as well. I'm wiped. Not really in the mood to party."

"Join me then. We'll have our own low-key party."

I glanced at the hot tub. I could practically hear the bubbles calling my name after such a long, emotionally-draining day. "Alright, lemme get changed."

I returned to the sundeck dressed in my bikini. I’d run it under warm water this time, checking to make sure it didn’t bleed color, and thankfully it didn’t.

I saw Jax leaning back in the hot tub, head resting on the edge with a wet hand towel folded over his eyes. There was a drink sitting on the side next to him.

Although we’d made up, I couldn’t help feeling that there were still big problems between us. There was that pesky sexual tension, there was our growing intimacy, and there was my fear of getting hurt. Our make-up kiss had left me feeling even more confused and frustrated about all those things.

I went to the bar to make myself a rum and coke. I was a bit concerned about sharing the hot tub with him, knowing what happened the last time one of us was in it, but seeing him relaxed—almost to the point of sleeping—put me at ease.

I quietly slipped into the hot tub, careful not to disturb him. I watched him for a beat as I sipped on my drink, admiring the curves and edges of his bare torso. His chest was rising and falling in a slow rhythm, the dark lines of his tattoos making intricate swirls on his skin.

As I sighed and leaned back in relaxation myself, I heard his arm lift from the edge and dip into the water. I watched as his hand moved down to his trunks.