Page 17 of Until Easton

She's sitting at the bar, talking with a friend, wearing a smile that doesn't reach her eyes, and I want to know why. Becca carries the weight of the world on her shoulders. She deserves to be taken care of, and all I know is I want to be the one doing it.

"Easton." Jax says my name, and I snap my head in his direction.

"Yeah?"

He laughs. "What are you deep in thought about?"

"Not what—who." I set my drink on the table.

"Care to share?"

I sigh. "The feisty, fun-sized redhead, Becca Connelly," I tell him, and he looks back to where my obsession sits.

Jax turns back to face me. "No shit?"

"I can't stop thinking about her."

My friend's face turns serious. "Look, man. I'm all for a guy having fun as he lives up his single life, but Becca isn't a one-and-done woman. Her plate is full, and I don't want to see her get used."

I down the rest of my beer. "It's not like that." Shit, I can't believe I'm fucked up over this. I run my fingers through my hair. "You ever look at someone, and every thought in your head vanishes? All thoughts except for them?"

"I have."

"I haven't." Not until five days ago. "The moment Becca looked at me, all the air left my lungs. I couldn't think straight. I got tunnel vision. All I could focus on was her. The feeling was foreign. It felt like I'd stepped into another dimension or something." I fixate on the water stain on the table's surface and trace its shape with my fingertip. "I had this—this, I don't know…gravitational pull toward her. An unseen force propelling me to her. Like, if I just got closer to Becca, I would breathe again." I let out a short laugh because I sound like an idiot trying to explain myself. "I sound like a fucking dumbass." Instead of reaching for my beer, I grab the bottle of whiskey that's been sitting in the center of the table and pour a shot, then throw it back. The smokey oak flavor from the barrel the whiskey was aged in coats my taste buds, and the alcohol burns my throat. Finally, I break free of the fog my brain settled in and look across the table to find Jax staring back, with the same grin as before still plastered to his face. "I'm clearly fucked up," I admit.

"I agree. You are royally screwed for the rest of your life." He downs what's left of his beer. "You, my friend, experienced what us Maysons call the BOOM." He makes the hand gestures of an explosion.

"The BOOM?"

"The feeling you get the moment you lay eyes on the one. It's your soul reacting to finding its match—the one person you are destined and designed to walk through life with."

"That's deep." I want to take another shot and act like what Jax said isn't at all what I experienced, but I'd be lying to myself. Deep down, I know it to be true. It has to be.

Jax laughs. "And what you just confessed isn't. The BOOM is real. I felt it the moment I laid eyes on Ellie. Nothing else mattered. She was mine."

Laughter draws my attention, and I turn my attention toward the bar to see some dipshit talking to my woman. Heat floods my veins when his hand touches the small of her back. Becca stands, and the asshole leads her to the dance floor. I watch them dance. He twirls her around the dance floor to the fast-paced music, and with each time his hand grips her waist, my jaw tightens more.

This is bullshit.

Do something, my inner voice says.

"Well, Evans." Jax nods toward Becca and the fucker she's dancing with and gives me a 'what the hell you going to do' look.

I push from the table, stand, and stroll across the bar to take what's mine. I ignore the chuckle coming from Jax when I do.

The band playing finishes the song, then quickly moves into a slow one. Becca spots me moving her way, and her eyes widen. "Easton."

"I believe you have your hands on my woman," I tell the guy she's with.

"She's your girl?" Her dance partner glares at me.

"That's right," I inform him and wait to see which way this exchange will go.

The cowboy sizes me up then decides he's better off bowing out. He then looks at Becca, tips his hat, and says, "Thanks for the dance," then walks away.

"What the hell, Easton?" Becca says as I place my hand on the small of her back and pull her body against mine. "What was that all about? I am not your girl."

"Oh, yeah you are. You're mine."