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This is fine. Everything is fine.
Jax plops down without hesitation, slipping his legs under the railing and resting his forearms on the metal bar. I swear to god the tower sways in the wind. One gust is going to send us crashing to the forest floor.
Relax, Callie. It’s okay.
I press my back against the wall of the lookout building, trying to ignore how high up we are.
“Come on, Cal.” Jax turns to look at me. “Do you think I’d let you fall?”
No. Jax would never let anything hurt me. So while my stomach flips over and my pulse hammers, I shuffle forward to join him, hands shaking as I sit down.
“You’re trouble,” I grumble. When I finally settle beside him, he wraps his arm around me and presses a kiss to my forehead.
The view from up here steals what’s left of my breath. Trees stretch out in every direction, their tops shrouded in smoky fog that clings like a ghostly blanket. The whole world is small and manageable from this height.
“You know what drives me crazy?” Jax’s voice is rough, raw with emotion I wasn’t expecting. “It’s not that I want you, Callie. It’s that I want you so badly it makes me want to burn down everything that’s ever touched you. Every guy who’s looked at you sideways, every bastard who’s hurt you. I’ve loved you since we were kids running wild through these mountains. When you left. . .” He trails off, jaw clenching. “I don’t know who I am without you.”
My chest flutters with emotions I’m not ready to name. We barely started dating. It’s too soon to love them, isn’t it? I’ve known them my whole life. There are words neither of us are saying, but I think we both understand, because a sweet smile works across his face. One that’s more boyish than manly.
That grin? That’s my Jax.
“But like I said.” He reaches into the backpack and pulls out a can of red spray paint, pressing it into my hands. Our fingers brush, sending electricity shooting up my arm. “No one touches what’s mine.”
I look up at him, heart full to bursting with feelings I’ve been shoving down for years. “I think I love you too, Jax.”
His grin is pure trouble and sin. “Then you shouldn’t have kissed Zach all those years ago, pretty girl.”
A laugh bursts out of me. I’m not even worried about his ridiculous jealousy over something that happened when we were practically babies. Instead, I shake the can, listening to the metal ball rattle around inside.
My confidence wavers. No, not like that, Callie! Try harder!
“Are you okay?” Jax pulls me out of my head.
“Uh, yeah.” I clear my throat. “What do you want me to paint?”
His eyebrows jump. “Who am I to tell you? You’re the artist, Cal. You’re in charge. Paint anything.”
You’re the artist. There’s no control, no draining my creativity for his gain. He’s trusting me to trust myself, and that’s something I haven’t done for a long time. With Jax and the guys believing in me, I think it’s time that I start doing the same.
Shaking the can, I glance around the platform, then back at him as I take the cap off. “Anything?”
“Something from the heart, darlin’.” He helps me get up and gestures for me to go first.
“Hm. That’s hard,” I study the planks and as juvenile as my idea is, I bend down and follow my instincts. I make the first sweep of paint. Jax stands back, watching me work. Slowly, my vision starts to come together. I wait for Jax to recognize the appendage. It’s the biggest dick I can manage, complete with questionable anatomical details.
Jax throws his head back and laughs, the sound echoing through the mountains and straight through my heart and into my soul.
A lot of my life has gone wrong, but none of that really matters when I’m with the guys. Theo can sue, slander, even destroy my career, but he can never take this happiness from me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
JAX
Her laugh, bright and untainted, rings through the air, bouncing off the metal and wood of this dilapidated hunting tower. It’s a sound I haven’t heard enough of, a sound I crave. Callie flows through my veins like heroin, and I’m already desperate for another hit, to drown in her presence.
She’s beautiful, but up here, with the setting sun playing on the strands of her hair, turning them into shimmering threads of gold? Fuck, she’s a goddess. Always has been, always will be. Even when we’re old and wrinkly, I know she’ll still burn like the sun, and I already want to find the creator and demand fifty more years with her because the rest of our lives won’t be enough.
I want her for eternity. My entire body aches with longing even though she’s right here. She finishes her masterpiece—a giant, veiny cock and balls sprayed across the wooden planks—and steps back, a mischievous glint in her hazel-green eyes. As soon as I knew what she was painting, I burst out laughing, but then I watched her work.
