Page 78

“Shut up, J,” I say lovingly. Mr. Always on Time used to be my other nickname for years, but the last few weeks might've made it obsolete.

Eli swivels in his chair, studying me with the intensity of someone reviewing a questionable investment. His black Gibson Les Paul rests across his lap. “Something’s different about you,” he says.

“Different how?”

“He’s smug—totally smug,” Jax comments immediately.

“I’m not smug.”

“You absolutely are,” Eli replies, confirming what Jax said. “Like you have a secret.”

I grab a random guitar from its stand, avoiding eye contact. “Maybe I do.”

“Wait. No. You didn’t.” Jax sits up so fast he nearly slides off the couch.

His over-the-top reaction makes me snort. “Didn’t what?”

Eli throws a guitar pick at me. It hits my shoulder and drops to the rug. “You kissed her. You kissed Peyton!”

I don't answer and Jax lets out a low whistle. “Well, I'll be damned. Our boy actually made his move. Jesus Christ, I was starting to think you'd die of old age before taking the first step. Spill,” he urges.

I strum a lazy chord, letting it ring. The vibration hums through the wood and into my fingertips, buying me a few precious seconds. I can't stop thinking about Peyton's beautiful smile or the trusting way she looked at me after we kissed for the first time. And that kiss…damn. Trying to play it cool is impossible after such a perfect moment.

“We’re seeing where this goes. Nothing else to share yet,” I finally say, deliberately avoiding their eyes.

Eli groans. “That’s the vaguest answer ever. Even I’m better at talking about my feelings than that.”

“What can I say? We haven’t had the talk yet.”

Jax gestures for me to keep going. “And?”

My fingers move absently over the strings without playing a note. There's no point in pretending anymore. These two have known me too long. I look down at the instrument in my hands, lift my head and meet the eyes of my chosen brothers.

“I’m totally falling for her,” I admit.

There it is, the truth out in the open. My entire existence feels lighter the second the words land. Dr. Patel was right. Wanting something good isn't the same as asking for disaster. Maybe admitting how I feel isn't the beginning of losing her. Maybe it's the beginning of letting myself believe I deserve her.

“Wow. He finally admitted it out loud,” Jax whistles, another huge grin overtaking his face, this time softer.

“What do you mean with finally?”

“We both saw it coming miles away,” Eli explains knowingly. “We actually had a bet going.”

“You did not.”

“We totally did and I just won a thousand bucks. Pay up, big guy,” Jax turns to Eli with his tattooed hand outstretched.

Our friend groans, his attention swinging back to me after taking money out of his money clip and handing it over. “You look at Peyton like she hung the moon and the stars. It’s nauseating.”

“Seriously. You've gone even more soft and emotional. We hate to see it,” Jax says with a solemn nod.

I flip them both off. “Like you’re any better. I remember your stupid ass looks when you first started dating your women. Don’t try to act cool now.”

“I was smooth,” Jax insists.

“You were unbearable,” Eli says at the exact same time I reply, “You were insufferable.”

Jax points between us, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “See? This is the disrespect I deal with every day.”