The Return of the Rebel

“Really?”

He nodded and her eyes twinkled with mischief.

She leaned forward and in a breathy voice said, “Maybe I could make you happier.”

In an instant, her lips pressed to his. His heart slammed into his ribs. Now wasn’t the time for overthinking things. It was a time for decisive action. His hands slipped around her waist, pulling her closer. Every nerve ending sprang to life. He hadn’t felt this free, this alive, in forever.

Cleo smelled like a field of wildflowers. He didn’t know if it was her perfume or shampoo, but there was something about her that had an intoxicating effect on him.

Who’d ever think that the girl who gave him that inexperienced peck all those years ago would grow up to give such passionate kisses? Her lips moved over his in a fervent hunger. And when she moaned, it was his undoing. In that moment, it didn’t matter what she’d ask of him, he’d be helpless to deny her.

Her fingers trailed up his neck. Her nails scraped against his scalp. It was the most stimulating sensation. He couldn’t believe the girl whose ponytails he used to pull and who would flash him a smile lined with braces was now this red-hot siren in his arms setting his whole body on fire.

She pulled back just far enough to murmur, “Let’s move this to the bedroom, where my cast won’t be in the way.”

It was as if she’d dumped a bucket of icy cold mountain water over his head. He...he couldn’t do that, no matter how much he wanted her. He turned his head away, trying to get a grip.

“We can’t.” He couldn’t look her in the face.

She placed her fingers under his chin and attempted to turn his head, but he resisted. He felt like a wild animal that had been caught in a trap. There was no getting away. No pretending that he was the same Jax that he’d been all those years ago.

“You can kiss me, but you can’t even look at me now.” Irritation threaded through her voice. “What’s the matter? Don’t my kisses stack up to the other women you’ve known?”

He swung around and looked at her point-blank. “They aren’t even in the same ballpark. Yours are so much sweeter. You’re amazing.”

“Then I don’t understand. What’s the problem? Why do you keep pulling me close only to shove me away?”

For the lack of anything better, he fell back on a cliché. “It’s not you, it’s me.”

Cleo rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to do better than that. I want to know the truth.”

“Can’t we just forget this happened?”

“No, we can’t. I want you. And you obviously want me. You owe me the truth. What’s holding you back?”

There was no way out of this. He supposed he did owe her the truth, but somehow that didn’t make it any easier to say.

CHAPTER TWELVE

JAX COULDN’T BELIEVE he was about to bare his soul to Cleo.

His gut knotted as he pictured her withdrawing from him—of her looking at him differently. He didn’t want to make this confession. But what choice did he have? She needed to realize here and now that they could never be more than friends.

He lifted his head to meet her questioning gaze. “I’m not the same man you used to know.”

She squeezed his hand. “And I’m not a kid anymore. But I think you figured that out.”

He pulled away, needing to think straight. “This isn’t easy for me to say.”

She reached out and gripped his thigh. “You’ve listened and understood my problems. Trust me to understand yours.”

Realizing he needed more distance between them if he was ever going to say this, he got to his feet. If she kept touching him, he’d never get these words out.

He strode over to the wall of windows and wished he could just keep walking off into the desert—where no one knew him and no one cared about his story. He honestly never planned to have this conversation with anyone. Yet somehow when he wasn’t looking, Cleo had snuck past his defenses. She’d gotten closer to him than anyone ever had in his life. And now he had to give them both a strong dose of reality.

He leveled his shoulders and turned. “I have cancer.”

She fell back against the couch as though his words had physically knocked the breath out of her. “Are...are you dying?”