Wild Zone (Rough Riders Hockey 4)

Jax dropped his hands to his lap, where his phone stared up at him. A flash of cold raced over his arms underneath his jacket. Spread through

his chest. Anger quickly formed a shield around the hurt, but it took Jax a few long moments to get through the seething transition.

He picked up his phone, his fingers hovering over the letters of his keyboard, but he couldn’t find anything to say. His head was filled with years of his mother’s disapproving comments on how he dressed, how he wore his hair, whether or not he shaved, how he presented himself in public. Images of his father and older brother in their favored five-thousand-dollar Brioni suits, his middle brother in Upper East Side chic—whatever the hell that was—flashed alongside his own tattered, tattooed, biker boy look.

JAX: Well, shit, honey. I didn’t see that coming.

LEXI: I didn’t foresee having to explain. It’s a problem that wasn’t much of an issue until I saw you. Until I fell in lust with you. It’s not my personal view. It’s something I deal with for financial survival.

Kind of the way he’d been willing to go back to that bitch, Veronica, to get the stunt contract back for his company? Until Wes had slapped him upside the head.

Jax dropped his forehead into his hand and massaged at a growing headache. His phone vibrated, and he opened his eyes. But it wasn’t another message from Lexi; it was one from Spencer.

SPENCER: Might have a cancellation on a suite tonight. Will know in next twenty minutes. If it doesn’t pan out, you can always bunk with me, bro. Later. Spence

Jax grinned, but an ache had developed low in his gut. Not a good one. This one stemmed from the revival of an old wound. Of feeling…like one big disappointment.

LEXI: Being in the movie industry, I was hoping you’d understand the whole image dilemma. It’s refreshing to see someone who’s been able to retain his identity and live authentically. I’m sorry if I’ve upset or disappointed you. I’ve always believed in honesty—even if that’s being honest about the need to be…less than transparent.

JAX: I understand more than you know. How long are you in New York?

What the hell did he care if his style was an issue for her? What the hell did he care if she didn’t want to be seen with him? This wasn’t the change he’d been hoping for, but it was a start.

LEXI: Just today. I fly back tomorrow. Early.

JAX: Then reconsider dinner. I couldn’t get a room at Spencer’s, but I did get a suite.

LEXI: Shut. Up.

Jax burst out laughing just as the pilot announced their imminent landing and requested everyone turn off their electronic devices. Yeah. He’d take one night with her. He loved the way she made him laugh. And he really liked a lot of other things about her. Even admired a few. All before ever seeing her.

This was a big move forward for Jax. He felt the shift inside him. The hint of belief that there might be hope for him yet. And he owed it to an anonymous text from little Lexi.

Another text came through from Spencer.

SPENCER: Cancellation confirmed. You’re set up in room 714. Lots of good luck coming your way, bro.

Jax hoped he was right. As he sent Spencer a thank-you text, the flight attendant reminded him it was time to put his phone away. He texted Lexi first.

JAX: I have to shut down. When I get to the hotel, I’m going to take a shower. If you join me, we can fulfill one of the incredibly nasty dreams I had about you.

LEXI: I thought you had to be at work right away.

JAX: I haven’t done what I was told since I was two. And I can guaran-goddamn-tee I’ll set you right for that big meeting of yours this afternoon, sugar. But if I don’t hear from you by the time I’m showered and dressed, I’ll be back at the hotel by seven. I’m in room 714. That’s got to mean something positive, right?

He was going to shut down, but quickly added,

JAX: I’m yours, but you have to choose to take me.

And he turned off his phone.

Chapter 7

Lexi’s heart ticked quick and hard against her ribs. In her hotel room, she pulled out everything in her luggage and stood there naked, just out of the shower, staring at her clothes spread across the four-poster bed.

“I have nothing to wear,” she said around the fingernail she kept clenched between her teeth. “That means I can’t go, right?”

Her gaze darted to the clock on the nightstand. The glowing red numbers created a countdown pressure in her chest. Her rational mind kept telling her to just wait to see him until after he got back from work. Just take the day to think about it.