But eventually Jaxon pulls away with a groan. He drops his forehead against mine, and we just breathe for a while. But then he pulls away, and in a voice gone deep and growly and oh so sexy, he says, “Get dressed. I’ll be back in a few.”
And then, like always, he’s gone between one blink and the next.
It takes me a little longer to recover. A full minute or so passes before my heart rate steadies and my weak knees feel strong enough to support me. Eventually, I get my act together and start getting dressed in the layers upon layers necessary to survive an hour outside in Alaska. My lips tingle the whole time.
Turns out, it’s a good thing I hurried, because Jaxon is back, knocking on my door and letting himself in before I even have my socks on. To be fair, getting dressed takes a lot longer with a dislocated shoulder, but still. Even if I was completely healed, it’d still be impossible for me to compete with Jaxon’s speed.
He’s carrying a backpack, which he drops by the door when he sees me struggling to pull on my socks.
“Here, give them to me,” he says, kneeling down in front of me and gently resting my ankle on his thigh.
And just like that, my breath catches in my throat again. Because if I’ve learned nothing else in the time I’ve been here, it’s that Jaxon Vega kneels for no one. Yet here he is, kneeling in front of me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“What?” he asks as he slides the socks over my feet and past my ankles.
I just shake my head because what else is there for me to say? Especially when his fingertips linger on my calf, tracing patterns into my suddenly oversensitive skin.
I must look as flustered as I feel, because he just kind of grins at me as he slides a second sock over the first before doing the same to my other foot.
I shake my head, look away before I end up melting into an actual puddle.
A couple of minutes later, after putting my boots on for me, too, Jaxon stands up and holds a hand out to pull me up.
“Have you decided where we’re going?” I ask as we head for the door.
He picks up the backpack—something I’ve never seen him carry if he’s not going to class—and says, “Yeah.”
I wait for him to elaborate, but this is Jaxon. He almost never shares more than he has to. Then again, as he gives me a wicked grin, I find myself not minding too much. If Jaxon wants to surprise me, who am I to say no? Especially when his surprises are usually so, so good.
We walk hand in hand through the halls and down the three flights of stairs to the front door. Almost everyone else is in the last class of the day—Jaxon should be, too, but he’s ditching—so the common areas are nearly deserted. Which works for me. I’m still not ready to face most of them after everything that has happened.
“Are you okay?” Jaxon asks as we head out into the cold—and down even more steps. Which is great. I mean, it’s not like every muscle in my body aches or anything…
Still, I nod, both because I don’t want him to know that I’m hurting and because the biting cold kind of takes me by surprise. Which sounds ridiculous—this is Alaska; I know exactly how cold it is outside. But it’s still a shock to my system every single time.
I must not be hiding it as well as I’d hoped, because Jaxon takes one look at my face and says, “We could go back in.”
“No. I want to do something with you. Just the two of us.”
His eyes widen at my words, and the guarded look in his eyes drops away. For a second, just a second, I get to see the real Jaxon—a little awkward, a little vulnerable, a lot in love with me—and it takes my breath away all over again. Because I feel all of that and so much more around him.
“Then let’s go.”
We set out in the opposite direction that I went on my walk around the grounds that first day. Instead of going by the classroom cottages, we head across the pristine snow to the forest that takes up a lot of the school grounds.
We walk slowly, partly because the cold isn’t that bad once I start moving and partly because walking in snow really isn’t easy, especially when you were beaten half to death less than a week before. Eventually, though, we get to a little clearing in the forest. It’s not very big—maybe the size of my and Macy’s dorm room—but there are a couple of benches to the side.
Jaxon drops his backpack on one and pulls out a tall black thermos. He takes off the cup at the top, then opens it and pours something into the cup. Then he hands it to me with a grin.
“Hot chocolate?” I exclaim, delighted.