Page 31 of Jax & Knox

And then he's gone.

I sink down onto the porch step, my whole body shaking, and press my fingers to my lips.

I can still feel him. Still taste him.

And God help me, I want more.

But I'm terrified of what wanting more means.

EIGHT

JAX

I can't stop replaying the way she kissed me. The way her hands fisted in my cut like she was holding on for dear life. The way she melted against me for just a second before she pulled away.

And then the look on her face when she told me to leave.

Broken.

That's the word she used.

Like she's something damaged. Something that can't be fixed.

I'm sitting in the office at Perdition, staring at the wall, an untouched glass of whiskey on the desk in front of me. It's barely noon, but I poured it anyway. I haven't touched it. I just needed something to do with my hands that wasn't punching a wall.

I fucked up.

I pushed too hard.

I knew she wasn't ready. I knew it. And I still walked up to that cottage, confessed my feelings, and let myself get caught up in the moment when she kissed me back.

I should have stopped it. Should have pulled away. Should have told her we could take it slow.

Instead, I kissed her like a man starving, and when she panicked, I acted like it was somehow her fault for not being ready.

Fuck.

The door opens, and Knox walks in. He takes one look at me, then at the whiskey, and shuts the door behind him.

"You look like shit," he says.

"Thanks."

He drops into the chair across from me and leans back, his hazel eyes studying me. "You gonna tell me what happened, or do I have to guess?"

I scrub a hand over my face. "I fucked up."

"With Ainsley?"

"Yeah."

Knox doesn't say anything for a long moment. Then: "What'd you do?"

"Before you say anything, I owe her an apology. I pushed when I should've listened. And when she asked me to leave, I made her fear about what I wanted. That wasn't fair."

Knox nods slowly. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know," I admit. "I want to fix it, but I don't know how."