Текст книги "Beautifully Shattered"

Автор книги: Courtney Kristel

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

Chapter Nine

He guides me against the back seat and hovers over me. I know that he needs me to say something, but I can’t. I have no words. I’m at war with my mind and my heart. I know what I want to say, but I can’t tell him how much he means to me. I don’t deserve to ask for more from Jax.

“Don’t,” he says as if reading my mind.

“I can’t, Jax,” I say, full of regret.

He knows that I can’t do this, I’m not ready, but I can’t seem to stop either. I’ve gotten so used to building walls, brick-by-brick, that it seems impossible to let someone in. Even Jax. With each brick that he has broken down over the years, another one replaces it. As much as I want to tear down all of my walls for him, I can’t trust him to catch me. Every time I do, he disappears.

“Let go.” I barely have time to process what he’s saying before he’s kissing me again.

Everything slips away with his hands caressing my face while his tongue tangles with mine in a soul shattering kiss. I’m almost out of air, but I don’t dare stop him. Reading my mind again, he eases up and leaves a wet trail of kisses down my chin, then across my jaw, and then he’s sucking on that spot right below my ear. I shiver as I dig my nails into his back. I bite my lip so hard to smother the moan that I cut it. He nips on the pulse point at my throat and I whimper.

“I want to hear you,” he whispers huskily into my ear and I almost combust on the spot.

Holy-hotness, just hearing him whisper to me in that voice is enough to make me cum. I’m vaguely aware that we’re still in a car. I try to be quiet but he rolls my earlobe with his teeth, making my last strand of willpower break. I moan loudly. He fondles my boobs over my shirt. I moan again, this time louder than the last. Jax forcibly grabs my face and swallows the rest of my sounds.

Not wanting to be the only one getting off, I finally manage to make my hands move to the hem of his Superman T-shirt, instead of clawing at his back like some wild animal. Knowing what I want, Jax lifts his body off me to help me take off his shirt, at least that what I assumed. When he doesn’t remove his shirt, but instead puts it back into place, I know this isn’t going where I thought it was.

“We’re back to this?” I whisper.

He doesn’t respond, either because he doesn’t hear me or because he doesn’t know what to say. I’m going with the latter.

I close my eyes because I know if I see him right now, I will more than likely punch him in his stupid, beautiful face. He moves his body weight off me. I sit up. He doesn’t need to say it, to tell me that the moment is gone. He surprises me by reaching for my hand, but like the child that I am, I snatch it back and turn so that I’m facing the window again.

I don’t need to say anything to Jax because he knows how I feel. If he wants to keep playing these hot and cold games with me, then fine. I’m done. And he wonders why I won’t let him in. Hmm that’s a tough one. I’m fine stewing in my anger all by myself, but when he chuckles, I lose it.

I turn around and surprise the both of us by slapping him across the cheek. I quickly get over my shock and close my mouth. I almost feel bad for how hard I slapped him. My palm stings and there’s a clear handprint on his cheek. But then I hear his chuckle in my head and I get angry all over again.

On its own accord, my hand goes to slap him again, but Jax is much faster than I am. He captures my wrist before it can connect with its target. All of my pent-up fury comes rushing forward and I try to smack him with my other hand. Just as quickly, he’s holding that wrist too. I can’t help it, I laugh. Wrong move.

He’s seething; his jaw keeps popping from clenching it too tightly. His entire body hums with anger, just like mine, but yet I can’t stop laughing. He narrows his eyes at me, which would make a lesser woman feel intimidated, and I laugh even harder. I don’t know what makes Jax more upset: me laughing at him or the fact that I slapped him. I’m gonna go with a little bit of both. His stern gaze reminds me of someone trying to throw daggers with their eyes.

Deep breaths. Control yourself. Repeating this mantra somehow helps me calm down.

“Oh God . . . It hurts . . . I better have abs for days,” I say once I’m able to catch my breath.

I playfully nudge Jax with my shoulder. The games is us, and as much as I hate them, I would hate for him to play with anyone else.

He nudges me back and I know I’m forgiven. How? I have no idea. I caress his still red cheek. It’s warm to the touch. I trace the outline of my hand with my fingertips. Before I even have a chance to apologize, he beats me to it.

“Don’t, Ads. It’s fine.”

Because I just can’t seem to help myself when it comes to hitting Jax, I lightly slap his other cheek. “I wasn’t going to apologize for hitting you, jackass. You deserved it . . . I just didn’t mean to hit you that hard.” Sarcasm drips from my voice. I go to move my hand, but before I do, he bites my palm with enough pressure to leave teeth marks. “Yeah, you definitely deserved that slap.”

As he moves closer to me, I notice that we’re stopped at Central Park. I give Jax my what-the-heck face because I have no idea why we’re here. I also have no idea how long we’ve been here because of course my full attention was consumed by The God-like creature next to me. I assumed he was taking me back to my apartment. Man, was I wrong. Maybe he didn’t deserve that slap after all? No, he deserved it. He’s had it coming for awhile now.

Jax smirks, gets out of the car, and offers me his hand once he comes around to my side. “Trust me,” he whispers into my ear before blindfolding me.

I try not to panic when my world submerges in darkness, but my body isn’t listening to me. I’m already sweating, my pulse beats rapidly. I’m positive I’m about to go into heart failure any second now. I can’t seem to breathe in enough air into my lungs. I remind myself that I’m out in the open with Jax to ward off the full-blown panic attic that is about to hit from memories of the car crash.

Jax is with me. I’m safe. He won’t let anything happen to me. Even as I repeat the words, I have vivid flashbacks from being trapped in the car that night. I can hear glass shattering, followed by an earth shattering scream, then silence. The silence is the worst. My body shakes involuntary. The memories reel me in and I lose the tiny hold I had on staying in the present.

I struggle to focus but something keeps blocking my view, making it impossible to see what is going on. I attempt to wipe whatever it is away, but my right hand isn’t working correctly. I try again and instantly feel excruciating pain. I scream at the top of my lungs. I struggle to use my other hand but I can’t . . . It’s stuck. I black out.

When I regain consciousness, whatever is gushing down my face has begun to dry. I lick my lips and taste blood. It dawns on me what my face is covered in. Blood . . . my blood. I know it isn’t good that I keep blacking out, and how much blood I’ve lost. The accident comes back full force and I’m suddenly aware of what’s happening.

The blinding light . . .

Glass shattering . . .

Screaming . . .

I turn to the right to see Hadley’s head down. She’s barely breathing. I panic. “Hadley!” I scream.

I want to reach her, but I can’t move. I’m trapped. The pelting of the heavy rain is the only noise not drowned out by my screaming. I can’t see my dad but I have a clear view of my mom. She’s hanging forward, not moving either. Darkness takes over again before I can scream for help again. . . .

I’m yanked back into reality when Jax’s lips press firmly to mine. It takes a while to kiss him back, but when my lips finally move against his, he pulls back enough to whisper, “Stay with me. Don’t go away again,” against my lips and then he’s kissing me again.

The memories drift away, but continue to taunt me at the edge of the surface, never letting me forget. Being blindfolded doesn’t help, though knowing that Jax is here and understands helps keep the memories at bay.

“Trust me, Ads.” he murmurs into my ear.

I think I nod but I’m not sure. His hand grips mine. He lifts our intertwined fingers to his lips and kisses the back of my palm. I take another deep, calming breath, welcoming the clean air. As I breathe in, I breathe out the smell of burnt rubber that exist only in my memory. Jax leads the way to an unknown destination. I have a sinking feeling that he’s taking me to my favorite place in Central Park, but I have no way of knowing.

When I start to panic again, he squeezes my hand, letting me know that I’m safe. I focus on my breathing and the panic eases up. I know that we look ridiculous because we’re barely moving and we keep stopping every few feet so that I can catch my breath, but I don’t care. I’m conquering a fear of lack of control because of Jax. He’s extremely patient with me, always whispering sweet nothings into my ear to remind me where I am. If I was with anyone else, I seriously doubt that I would be able to do this without being trapped into the past.

As he continues to lead me around Central Park, I finally relax. The tension in my shoulders subsides and with each squeeze of Jax’s strong hand holding mine, my pulse slowly returns to a much more normal pace. Being blindfolded is still one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in awhile, but with each step, I feel stronger for being able to relinquish control to someone else.

Jax suddenly stops, spins me around and whispers, “Keep your eyes closed.” He kisses my neck and removes the blindfold.

I tell myself to count to ten. The entire time I remind myself to be patient, to do as directed. When I get to five, the urge to take a quick peek overwhelms me. When I make it to seven, I shake my head, realizing that I’m not patient, far from it. Very slowly I open my eyes and see a very amused Jax sitting on an ocean blue blanket.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think you had it in you to keep your eyes closed for that long. The world must be ending.”

I ignore his comment and focus on the scenery. He took me to my favorite spot. He knows me too well. He has a blanket spread out with a picnic basket. His socks and shoes rest on the grass near the blanket. He’s grinning from ear-to-ear. There’s something about seeing him so relaxed, looking at me as if he couldn’t tear his eyes away from me even if he wanted to, that makes my stomach flutter. Awesome, Jax has turned me into that girl. The girl that gets butterflies in her stomach just from a look. As hard as I try, I can’t find a reason to not like the girl I’m becoming when I’m with him.

I take the three small steps to the blanket and stand over him so each leg is on the outside of his thighs. I make a point to cross my arms over my chest. “Well, were you just going to let me stand there all day with my eyes closed while you sunbathed?”

Jax raises his left eyebrow in that sexy way of his. Too quickly for me to gauge his intentions, he sweeps his arms out and hits me behind my knees so I fall forward on top of him. There’s something about Jax that makes me want to hit him all the time. I sit on top of his thighs and boldly kiss him. Jax waves his index finger back and forth in front of my face. I pout for a whole nanosecond before he grabs my face with both of his hands and deepens the kiss that I meant only as a peck.

When we both pull away, we’re breathless. My smile matches his. He draws circles on my bare thighs while I take the time to notice everything else he brought. Next to the picnic basket is my new camera bag and a book that’s so damaged I can’t even read what it is, but I know it’s his favorite, The Giver. It was the last thing his mom gave him before walking out the door, never to be heard or seen from again. He took so much effort to make this happen and I slapped him. Why is he still here? I’m crazy with a capital C.

“I’m sorry.” I kiss the cheek that I slapped.

Placing his hands on my shoulders, he drags me back so he has a clear view of my eyes. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“It’s FINE, Ads. Besides, I’ve had it coming.”

“Who am I to argue with that.” I barely have the words out of my mouth before he’s tickling me. “Stop! Stop!” I try to squirm off him but it’s useless. He’s too strong. “I’m gonna pee my pants!” I shout through my laughter. He finally takes pity on me and kisses my nose.

“We couldn’t have you peeing on me again now, can we?”

Again? He’s crazy. I’ve never peed on anyone in my life. I ignore him and give him a quick kiss before leaning over to peer in the picnic basket. However, Jax quickly interrupts my attempts to eat by kissing me again. It isn’t until my stomach growls that he stops. Jax reaches over and unpacks our lunch with me still sitting on his lap.

After we take turns feeding each other, Jax decides to bask in the sun. Our fingers brush against each other as he hands me my camera bag and I feel it everywhere. He smiles at me as if feeling the same thing. I have no idea how a simple touch, even accidental, can set my skin on fire. It’s always been like this for me. I’ve tried to ignore it, but it’s always there. Even if I wanted to, I could never escape him. He’s a part of me.

I walk a distance away to take pictures of anything that catches my eye. I’m surprised that I’m able to get back into it as if no time has passed. Looking through the lens, I feel in control. I control what image I capture. When I take a picture of a little girl running after a little boy, I’m assaulted by memories of how I chased Jax when we younger. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Jax peacefully sleeping on the blanket, appearing much like The God that he is. So unfair.

I sneak up to him so that I can snap a picture of him completely relaxed. It’s amazing to see him lying here without his usual frown. I’m lost studying the man that I’ve always loved through the lens, when suddenly I see nothing but darkness. Startled, I move the camera out of my face to see Jax’s hand blocking the lens. He has an eyebrow raised in question.

Laughing I ask, “Were you awake the whole time?” He offers his hand to me. I take it and sit next to him.

“Of course. I love watching you, it’s like you’re in your own little world with this in front of your face.” He holds up my camera, I assume to make his point, but he starts clicking away instead.

I shield my face because I hate getting photographed, but Jax rolls on top of me to pin me down. Relief washes over me when he relinquishes the camera. It’s gone just as quickly after he captures both of my hands in one of his strong ones. He hovers over me with my hands stretched out over me head, away from my face.

“Okay, you made your point, Jax. You can stop now.” I speak sternly, but I’m fighting back a smile.

Releasing my hands, he snaps picture after picture, and continues to tickle me with his free hand. I scream and try to wiggle out from underneath him, but it’s useless. I’m his prisoner, powerless against him. Smiling wickedly, he leans down to trail his nose down my throat and back up. My breath catches. Dear God, that feels amazing.

“Jax,” I moan quietly.

He’s gone in the next breath, clicking pictures of me. My face burns up as I cover it with my arm. Jax leans in, lightly bites my arm in an attempt to stop me from shielding myself. He helps me sit up and continues taking pictures. This time he shoots both of us. We make funny faces, me kissing his cheek, him making me laugh, him looking at me fondly, and one of us kissing passionately. I love that he’s captured all of this. It somehow makes it real, I will always have the reminder of today. The re-beginning of us . . .

His phone rings, breaking the spell. I groan inwardly. When he sees who it is, his entire body goes rigid, his expression darkening. I know immediately that it’s Wyatt on the other line. That’s the only person who can make Jax change from the happy-go-lucky person he was a second ago to an avenging angel. As he gets to his feet, his face fills with regret. He swipes his finger across the screen to answer and strides over to a tree.

I want to comfort him, to let him know that I’m here for him. I want to be here in every way that he’s been here for me, but I can’t make my feet move. I’m torn. Something is stopping me. I remember Jax not being here for me when I needed him the most. Before I can put the pieces together, the flash eludes me, as if the feeling never took place.

Needing a distraction, I turn on my camera so I can flip through pictures while I wait for Jax’s return. I remember my dad and I developing the first pictures I took. The thought stirs a warm feeling inside me. I’m grateful Jax gave me that extra push to start doing this again. The first forty or so aren’t that special, but I still can’t seem to delete them since they helped get me back to this point . . . to being me. Each picture shows improvement. By the last hundred, it’s easy for me to remember why I wanted to major in photography. When I realize that I only have about ten left, I notice that Jax still isn’t back.

I put away the camera and reach for my phone to see if Jax texted. I have nothing from Jax, only missed texts from Logan, Connor, and Kohen. Before opening my messages, I shoot one off to Jax.

Me: Everything okay?

I stare at my phone, willing it to ring with a new text, but nothing happens. I open my brother’s text thread instead of sending Jax another message that will go unanswered.

Logan: Lunch noon?

Logan: Up yet?

Logan: It’s not normal how much you sleep.

Me: Why did you ditch me last night?

My phone buzzes in my hand.

Logan: Something came up. Did you get home okay?

Since I haven’t been home yet, I keep the text as vague as possible. It’s not like I can tell him I stayed over at Jax’s.

Me: Still breathing c: See you tomorrow?

Logan: Ha Ha Ha. Connor said Jax took you home so I just wanted to make sure you weren’t sick or anything.

All the air whooshes out my body as I quickly run through the night’s events in my head. I can’t recall seeing Connor when I was leaving with Jax. Even if Connor did notice us he wouldn’t have recognized Jax with the different mask. Jax must have told Connor he was taking me home. Which makes sense. If Jax didn’t say anything, that would have been suspicious. Nobody actually knows I went home with Jax. With shaking fingers, I text my brother back.

Me: Either that or I walked.

Logan: Funny.

Me: Thanks. I try.

I take the first relaxing breath since I replied to him. He doesn’t know anything. That would have been bad. My body shudders. I ignore Kohen’s text and read the two I missed from Connor.

Connor: You alive?

Connor: Call Logan before he comes looking for you . . .

I can’t even go a day without Logan recruiting Connor to find out where I am. I contemplate banging my head against a tree instead of confronting my overprotective brother. The tree-banging seems like the less painful choice.

Me: Already handled . . . thanks?

Without even waiting for a response, I start packing everything up to search for Jax. Something is clearly wrong. I’ve just finished folding the blanket when I feel him behind me. I turn around. His face is ghostly pale, rigid, and if the clenching of his jaw is any indication, I know he is trying hard to stay in control. His eyes are the worst, void of the previous happiness and now haunted by his past, by his father.

As I step towards him to comfort him, he takes two steps back and raises his hands to stop me from coming any closer.

“I have to go.”

And to my astonishment, he quickly picks up the basket with the blanket on top and walks away without another word. I stand staring, mouth agape, watching him leave me. Again. It’s taking everything in me to keep myself from collapsing to the ground. Somehow I find the strength to keep standing, watching him. With every step he takes away from me, I wonder if I’ll be enough for him. When he’s almost out of eyesight, I know I need to fight.

For him.

For me.

For us.

After retrieving my forgotten camera bag, I take off running after him. Last night changed everything. I need to tell him that whatever that sick bastard said to him doesn’t change anything, that he can lean on me. When I finally reach him, I’m hopeful. I’m finally fighting for the one thing I want most in this world. Jax.

“Stop. Tell me what happened. Don’t shut me out.” I slide my hands up to his face and force him to look at me. “We’re in this together now, Jax. Lean on me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours.” I wrap my arms around his waist, breathing in the most intoxicating smell in the world. Jax.

His entire body stiffens and his arms remains at his side. I move back to gaze into his eyes again. Almost wishing I hadn’t with how much pain I see behind them. It’s as if I’m staring at my reflection. I reach up to stroke his cheek again, but he flinches away as if in pain. He isn’t here with me, he’s somewhere far away. I know the signs all too well.

“Please talk to me, Jax. I’m right here. Don’t shut me out,” I plead to deaf ears.

He stares straight through me. Not knowing what else to do, I grab his face with both hands, lean on my tiptoes, and kiss him with all the love I have. Every agonizing second he doesn’t respond, I kiss him back harder, unwilling to give up. A lifetime passes before I feel anything back from him. When he tentatively strokes his tongue with mine, I nearly sigh with relief. His hands go into my hair, pulling at the strands, angling my face to deepen the kiss. The rest of the world floats away. Nothing else matters. Nobody can touch us in this moment. The passion fades and the kiss turns angry. He’s fighting this, fighting us. He’s telling me goodbye with his lips. He tears his mouth away from mine and leans his head against my forehead.

“I’m sorry, Adalynn.” He didn’t use his nickname. Before he speaks again, I know this is over. “I can’t,” he whispers.

He closes his eyes and drops his hands from my face and walks away. I’m still struggling to make my brain work, but I somehow manage to reach out and stop him. He shakes his head and doesn’t turn around to face me.

“Why?”

I have no idea why I’m even asking. I won’t get an answer and Jax isn’t one to disappoint. His silence rings loud and clear. I can’t believe he won’t even turn around to look at me. Last night meant nothing to him.

Reining in my temper, I demand in a deadly quiet voice, “Tell me Jax, I deserve to know why you’re pushing me away, yet again.” Nothing. “At least have the decency to look at me!” I nearly shout at him. Nothing.

I tramp around him and grip his face to forcibly make him look at me. When he finally opens his eyes and sees me, really sees me, I smile warmly at him.

“Nothing you can say will change how I feel about you Jax . . . I—”

He shoves me away, cutting me off.

“Enough, Adalynn. You can’t fix me. You can’t even fix yourself.” Him punching me would have hurt less. “Leave me alone. I don’t want or need you.” Typical Jax-style, he leaves without another word, uncaring that he just gutted me.

If this were a movie I would chase after him again. I would show him that I won’t give up, and he would be running towards me, too. He would tell me he didn’t mean it and kiss me with everything he has. But this isn’t a movie and I don’t have enough strength left in me to chase after him and tell him I love him. You can’t even fix yourself. His words drain me from any strength that I have, making it impossible to keep standing.

It’s surprisingly easy to convince myself to let him go, that he doesn’t feel the same for me. With my head down, I leave Central Park. Each step I take away from him, I promise myself I need to let go of this fantasy I’ve had of us together. I’m nothing to him.

Two weeks later I’m half expecting Jax to show up at the bakery. Each time the bell chimes upon someone’s arrival and it’s not him, it becomes increasingly clear that Jax is continuing to push me away. I kept telling myself he needed time and then we could go back to normal, and a tiny part of me hoped we could go back to being more. I replay the night of the ball on a continuous wheel in my head.

Every time I see him in passing, he avoids me. I finally force myself to stop trying to talk to him when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to respond to any of my text messages or calls. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs when I met the guys for dinner the other night, and as soon as I sat down, Jax made an excuse to leave. He shouldn’t have bothered showing up, it’s our weekly dinner. Of course I’m going to be there. I need to move on. That mantra is easier said than done.

I’m trying desperately to concentrate on booking a pirate-themed birthday cake for a customer, but I keep losing focus. I really need to pay attention to her, but I can’t. She changes her mind every single time I’m almost done with the paperwork. My temper starts to awaken. I honestly don’t know how many times I’ve crossed everything out because she’s changed her mind. Ha, someone changing their mind on me. The irony is not lost on me.

I’m contemplating how illegal it is to poke her in the eye with my pen, or if it would be better to stab myself with my own pen, when a deep voice saves me from doing something extreme. I want to feign happiness at seeing Kohen, but I can’t. Jax has ruined even the simple act of masking my emotions, like he’s ruined me.

Despite my indifference, Kohen in scrubs is a sight to behold. He has an amused expression and it takes me a second to realize what’s so funny. At first I think it’s because he heard the customer, whose name I keep forgetting, but then it becomes apparent why he’s standing here pleased with himself. He asked me something. Crap . . . Think . . . Think . . .

The girl glances up when she notices she doesn’t have my undivided attention any longer and gasps loudly as she takes Kohen in. Yeah, who can blame her? It’s pretty hilarious to watch her whole demeanor change. The bitchy side of her disappears and she’s giving him a look that I can only describe as the come-fuck-me look. It’s a look I have become very aware of from women when I’m with the guys. I have to turn away to keep from laughing in her face. Honestly, does she not have class?

When I face them again, she’s narrowing her eyes at me. Okay maybe my coughing didn’t cover up my laugh like I thought. Whoops. I don’t even feel a little guilty. I peer at the form to see that her name is Amanda. Ah, that’s what it is. Kohen beams at me and it makes me smile my first real smile all week. Well, the second if I’m being honest. The first was when I saw Jax sitting with the guys in the restaurant. I give Kohen the universal sign for five minutes before I try unsuccessfully to rush Amanda. I could always ask someone from the back to help Kohen, but I have a feeling that he would just wait for me anyway.

It’s the longest ten minutes of my life before Amanda is on her way out the door, but not before she tries again to get Kohen’s attention. She pouts when he shows no interest in her. A laugh slips out of my mouth. I’ll make sure to remain in the back when she picks up her cake in a few days. The bell chimes, signaling Amanda’s departure. I turn to find Kohen standing in front of me, leaning over the counter. My surprised gasp makes him smile.

“Hi . . . ?” I ask because I have no idea why he’s here.

I haven’t talked to him since our date, nor have I responded to his text messages. I’ve just deleted them without reading. I wouldn’t say I was ignoring him per se, I was just hoping things with Jax would turn out differently and I didn’t want to lead on Kohen if I pursued things with Jax. But now seeing him in front of me, looking way too good in his scrubs, I’m wondering why I didn’t seek him out. He’s exactly the kind of distraction I need in my life. And it’s pretty clear that he likes me so that’s a plus. I definitely don’t need someone who’s going to play the hot and cold game with me, I get enough of that from The God.

“Okay, feel free to turn me down.” Kohen pauses to see if I’m going to stop him, but when I don’t say anything, he continues. “I was hoping I could talk you into a quick lunch, but I have to get back to the hospital now, so how about dinner tonight? Anywhere you want, just text me the location, let’s say seven?”

Before I can say anything, he gives me a chaste kiss on the lips. He walks out of the bakery, leaving me with my fingers touching my lips, fighting the urge to throw up. Why do I feel like I’ve betrayed Jax by letting him kiss me? It infuriates me to even think that. Seeing Kohen might be exactly what I need to get over Jax.

Hmmm . . . A little cocky assuming I’m just going to say yes. Well, it’s a good thing I’m having dinner at Connor’s tonight after therapy. Hopefully Kohen’s ready for another dinner date with the boys because that’s what he’s getting, sans Jax, of course, since apparently having dinner with me is so appalling. At least someone wants to have dinner with my winning personality. I idly wonder if I should let Kohen know we’ll be having company, but dismiss that idea. He’s the one that assumed I didn’t have plans so he can suffer through dinner with my overprotective brother and Connor. I text Kohen to meet me at the coffee place around the corner from Connor’s.