“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just…” I trail off because I don’t know how to answer him, don’t know what to say. Because I want him. I do. I just don’t know how to deal with this weird, uncomfortable feeling that’s building inside me all of a sudden.
“You just…？” Jaxon waits for an answer. Not in an aggressive way but in a concerned way, like he really does just want to make sure I’m all right.
But knowing that only makes the feeling inside me worse, the pressure building until I feel like a rocket about to go off. “I don’t… I want… It feels…” I sound like a jerk fumbling around for an explanation, but then my stomach growls—loudly—and understanding replaces Jaxon’s concern.
“I should have kept my hands to myself until you had something to eat,” he says, taking another couple of steps back. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I needed to kiss you.” I squeeze his hand, glad to have an explanation for the weird feeling inside me. My mom always said that low blood sugar does strange things, and I can only imagine how low mine is right now, considering I haven’t eaten in nearly four months. “I’ll just grab one of Macy’s granola bars and then go to class. You probably have to head out soon, too, right?”
“Sure,” he says, but I can tell the light has dimmed in his eyes.
I know it’s my fault. I know he’s just being Jaxon and I’m the one who is suddenly acting all weird. But…I don’t know. Everything just feels off with me, and I don’t have a clue how to fix it.
I should probably lean forward so my hair brushes against Jaxon’s hand and he knows everything’s okay. Or at least lean into him for one more hug. But I don’t actually want to do either of those things, so I don’t. Instead, I smile up at him and say, “See you later?”
“Yeah.” He smiles back. “Definitely.”
“Oh, and for some reason, I’ve lost my phone. Meet back here?”
He nods, then gives me another little wave and heads out of my room and down the hallway toward the stairs.
I watch him go, admiring the way he walks, full of purpose and confidence and a come-at-me-at-your-own-risk insouciance that shouldn’t do it for me but somehow totally does. Also, I am completely admiring the hell out of what his very nice ass does for those boring black uniform pants.
Once Jaxon starts to go around the corner, I step back into my room, then kind of pause as he turns to look down the hall at me. He’s got a huge grin on his face now, and it looks good on him. As do the crinkles by the corners of his eyes and the lightness that seems to cover his whole face.
The grin fades just a little as our eyes meet—almost like he’s embarrassed to be caught looking so happy—but it’s too late. I’ve gotten a glimpse at what Jaxon Vega looks like when he’s beaming, and it turns out I like it. I really, really like it.
The anxiety in the pit of my stomach dissolves as easily as it came, and suddenly it’s the easiest thing in the world to blow him the kiss I couldn’t give him earlier. His eyes widen at the gesture and, while he doesn’t do anything as corny as reaching out to grab it, he does wink at me.
I’m laughing as I close my door and head for the shower. How can I not when the Jaxon Vega I get to see is a million times sweeter and more charming than the one the world knows?
But as I turn on the water, a chill works its way through me. Because if it turns out I let Hudson escape, if it turns out I really did bring him back with me, then I’ll be the one responsible for hurting Jaxon and taking away his happiness.
No way am I going to let that happen to him. Not now. Not ever again.
9
Livin’ on a
Hope-Induced
Hallucination
Three shampoos and two full-body scrubs later, I finally feel like a new woman. One who might not turn into a hulking stone monster at the least provocation. I wrap myself and my hair up in towels （hot pink, of course—thank you, Macy） and reach for my phone to check the time.
Which I can’t do because I don’t have a phone. Ugh.
Also, since there is no clock in the room and I don’t have a phone, I’m feeling pretty grumpy as I slap moisturizer on my face and start to dry my hair.
The sad fact is, I’m going to have to get on this no-phone thing sooner rather than later. Partly because my entire life is on my phone and partly because I really, really need to text Heather. I can’t even imagine what my best friend is thinking right now—except, of course, that I ghosted her for absolutely no reason.