Reckless (Forever 6)

"Revenge?" I thought Jax would laugh, but he didn’t. "Seems like that could be terrifying, too."

"But action movies really are fantasy. The bad guy almost always gets what’s coming to him, and the good guy’s basically magic," I said. "It’s my personal favorite brand of escapism."

"I’ll bring something with more explosions next time." He grabbed the remote and hit pause just when it was getting to the good part.

"Hey! Why’d you stop the movie?"

"I know you’re not a horror fan now, so I’m surprised you’ve stuck it out so long. But I think I’ve tortured you enough. You can go ahead and leave if you want."

"Are you kidding? You can’t just tease me with the first half of the movie then stop it when I’m getting into it. We gotta finish this." I reached over and pushed play on the remote.

He smiled. "Whatever you say."

As the movie continued, I felt my body relaxing and realized it was the first time I’d ever been truly comfortable around Jax. Was there more to him than bullshit? We’d just had a conversation that felt natural, and given the situation, almost normal. We were laying next to each other, but I didn’t feel pressured or anxious—just at peace.

If I could just keep this moment, just like this, I thought with a yawn as I nestled into the pillow. I closed my eyes, trying to lock the memory into my mind.

When I opened my eyes again, it was dark outside, and the TV screen in front of me was black. Shit! I’d fallen asleep in the middle the movie. In his bed, quite possibly the least appropriate place on the entire bus—or the world—for me to be. But then I remembered our conversation. We’d gotten so personal. How had it happened? Where was Jax?

Disoriented, I propped myself up on my elbows and looked back. He was there, wide awake, scribbling into a notebook.

"Oh god, I’m such an ass**le," I started. "The bed was so comfortable, and I’ve been so tired—"

"It doesn’t matter," he said. "But we have to talk about something serious. You’re tired during the day. More than tired. Practically falling over."

I didn’t want him to think I was sleeping on the job. "I’ll get used to sleeping on the couches," I said quickly. "It won’t keep interfering with—"

"No. I don’t care about that," he said. His hand squeezed my shoulder. The gesture was oddly reassuring—I had to admit, I was starting to like this kinder, gentler Jax. "I care about you getting enough sleep. The couches clearly aren’t working out."

"I’m only here for two weeks," I said. "I don’t need anything special." I was here to salvage the band’s finances, not cost them even more.

He scratched his chin. "Hmm. Did you try the fold-outs up in the hallway?"

"Yeah. They’re harder than the couch." I groaned. "Seems impossible, I know."

"Too bad we don’t have room for another bed." He seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Well, then. It looks like you’re going to be sleeping right here."

The mattress was comfortable, but not enough to make me completely lose my mind. "I’m going to be doing what? I think you misunderstood what it meant for me to watch a movie with you."

He laughed briefly. "Riley, it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s a big bed. I barely sleep as it is. If you can relax in it . . . well, I’m just glad someone can."

"Seems kind of convenient. Was this your plan all along?"

He looked at me with a puzzled expression. "You really don’t trust people, do you?"

"I only trust people who give me good reasons to trust them," I said. "You’ve done nothing but play games with me since the day I got here. Since before the day I got here, if I count the groupies." I twirled my hair and imitated their vapid looks.

"So you think it was my plan to, what, lure you up here and force you to sleep with me, using the power of the Jax Effect?"

"Sounds very Hitchcockian." I knew it wasn’t fair, but when had Jax ever played fair?

He winced at the jab, sending a momentary pang of guilt through me. "Listen to me. I didn’t bring you up here. I didn’t make you sleep here. How could this be my plan when it depended on what you’d do?"

I knew he was right, but I was stubborn. "Right. Next you’ll probably tell me that you sleep naked," I said. "You always just keep pushing it."

His face slumped slightly. "We’ve played a lot of games. But I’m not a monster, and I’m not playing tonight. You’ve made your position clear. Our deal from earlier still stands, one kiss after every concert, but there will be no sex in this room—and that’s a promise."

"I’m supposed to believe that?"

"I’ll sleep on the floor. Will that fix it?"

"Well, what about the band?"

"What about them?"

"I can't have your band thinking that I'm having sex with you when I'm the tour accountant."

"Relax Riley. Even though the tour bus is the biggest one we could find, everyone knows that it's cramped in here and we have to share. Kev and Chewie sleep in the same room and nobody thinks they're having sex in there."

I looked at his face. Was this a trick? He didn’t seem like he was being sly or dishonest. Just the same, the band called the room his Fortress of Solitude for a reason. From what I’d gathered, he almost never let people inside. Now he wanted me to sleep here? Even in my daydreams, I only ended up in Jax’s room for sex. Moving into his space didn’t figure into my fantasies.

"Jax, I don’t want to say no," I said cautiously, "and I don’t want you to sleep on the floor."

"Then just say yes. It’s an easy word. Three letters, one syllable." He studied my skeptical expression. "I swear to you, nothing will happen in this bed, except that you’ll finally get a good night’s sleep."

I looked at the bedding around us. "Fine," I agreed. Sighing, I flopped backwards on the intensely comfortable bed. "But get out some pillows, because they’re going between us."

He reached down to a corner of the bed and pulled up a body pillow that was nearly as long as he was tall. "Think this will do?"

I looked at the pillow and crinkled my nose. "Promise me you don’t use this for anything gross."