Jaxon: Told you not to worry
Jaxon: I have lived to fight another day
Jaxon: Or should that be I have lived to bite another day…
Jaxon: Anyway, come to my room tonight, whenever you’re available
Jaxon: I want to show you something
Partly because he contacted me as soon as he was done with Uncle Finn.
And （mostly） because he asked me out tonight. Or as close to out as we can get here in the middle of Alaska.
Me: Sorry, talking to Lia
Me: Definitely! What time?
Me: Glad things went okay
I hesitate for a second, then text what I’ve been thinking since he made the pun about living to bite another day. It’s the same thing I’ve been thinking about off and on since I left his room a couple of hours ago.
Me: I like it when you bite
I blush a little as I send it, but I don’t regret it. Because it’s the truth and because I’ve already thrown myself at the boy. What else is there but to see it through to the end?
When my phone vibrates immediately, I’m almost afraid to look at it.
Afraid I’ve gone too far.
Afraid I’m pushing too fast.
Jaxon: Good, because I like the way you taste
It’s corny and unoriginal and that doesn’t matter at all, because swoon. For a boy who tries to be so implacable, Jaxon’s got serious game. I mean, really. What girl is supposed to resist a text like that? Or the guy who texted it, when he’s also the guy willing to fight wolves and dragons and anyone else who comes for her?
Not me, that’s for sure.
Lia, on the other hand, makes a little gagging sound as she reads over my shoulder. “Wow, Jaxon. Sappy much?”
“I like it.” Still, I blank out my phone screen and shove it back into my pocket. No need for her to see anything else Jaxon might decide to write to me.
I tingle a little at the thought.
“So we raincheck tonight?” Lia says as she pushes open the door to the art studio. “And do facials tomorrow?”
It sounds like a plan to me. But after everything she just revealed, I can’t help asking, “Are you sure? I can go see Jaxon after we have our girls’ night.”
“And make me the one responsible for standing in the way of true love?” she snarks. “I don’t think so.”
“Oh, it’s not like that,” I tell her, even as a part of me melts at the description. “We’re just…hanging out.”
“Wanna bet?” Lia asks with a snort. “Because the Jaxon Vega I’ve known my whole life doesn’t almost start a war over a girl he just wants to ‘hang out’ with.”
53
If This Kiss
Is Going to Start a War,
it May as Well
Be Worth It
Lia’s words are still ringing in my ears several hours later as I’m trying to figure out what to wear to Jaxon’s room for our…date. Logically, I know he won’t care, but I care. I haven’t exactly been at my best since I got to Katmere, and just once I’d like to knock his socks off.
“You should go with the red dress,” Macy says from where she’s sitting cross-legged on my bed, watching me agonize over my clothes choice. “Guys love red. And that dress is killer, if I do say so myself.”
She’s right. The dress is amazing, but… “You don’t think it’s too obvious?”
“What’s wrong with obvious?” she demands. “You’re crazy about him. He obviously feels a whole lot of something for you or he wouldn’t have nearly ripped Cole’s throat out in the lounge today. There’s nothing wrong with letting him know you dressed up for him.”
“I know that. It’s just…” I hold up her red dress for the ten millionth time. “This is a lot of dressing up.”
“There’s not enough material for it to be a lot of anything,” Macy snickers.
“Yeah, that’s kind of my point.”
The red dress is amazing, no doubt about it. And I bet it looks gorgeous on Macy. But with all its geometric cuts and angles and the absolute lack of fabric near anything important, it’s about as far from my usual style as I can get. Which is fine, I guess, except whatever happens with Jaxon tonight （or doesn’t happen）， I want it to happen when I look and feel like me.
“I think I’m going to go with the yellow one,” I decide, reaching for the dress in question. It still has spaghetti straps, but the neckline is a little higher than the red one, and it should actually hit below my knees when I put it on, versus the top half of my thighs, like the red one.