James (Resisting Love #3)(36)

“Fuck,” he curses, eyeing me not with pity but with an apology in his eyes. What he could be sorry for, I have no idea.

“Why are you looking at me like you’re the one to hurt me?” I ask, confused.

Sax’s eyes widen at my observation, before he says, “Guy screws good girl over. Been there and done that. I guess, I dunno. I’m not completely innocent. I hurt a woman as good as you once, so while I sit here watching you cry, I want to hit James, but he’s not the only one who is guilty here, is he?”

“Sax. Don’t let your past define you. Everyone makes mistakes,” I tell him, not liking the flash of sadness I see in his eyes.

“I guess,” he says, but I can tell by his tone that he doesn’t agree with me.

“Sax,” I start but he cuts me off.

“Do you want me to tell Ry to come home?” he offers.

“No, you said you would tell me the nice things he says,” I remind him, the tears starting up again.

“That’s right. He told me you were beautiful, smart, kind-hearted, feisty.” He raises his eyebrow at the last one.

“I have my moments,” I say with a slight nod.

“He told me that he loves you, a lot. That you will always be his baby girl no matter how old you get. When you had your son he was pissed that the father wasn’t there and you were alone. He wanted to fly over but then Trey spoke to him and told him that he was taking care of you,” he explains.

“Sometimes it feels like family is the only people you can trust,” I say sadly.

“That’s because you have a good family. Not everyone is as lucky, some have to make their own family,” he says gently.

“I guess I am lucky that way.” We're both silent for a few moments, lost in our own thoughts.

“What am I going to do about James?” I ask him, playing with the seam of my jeans.

“I can’t answer that for you, Sasha, but you’re welcome to bring your kid and stay here with me,” he offers with a grin.

“Really? We won’t cramp your style?” I ask him, surprised at the offer.

Sax chuckles, and it’s a deep, musical sound. “No, you won’t cramp my style.”

“I don’t want to interrupt any hot sex you may be having,” I say bluntly.

“Hot sex?” he asks, raising his eyebrow, causing the ring to move.

“Yeah, you know,” I make a hand gesture that could mean both nothing and everything.

“No, I don’t. Please explain it to me,” he says, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“You’re in a famous band,” I state.

“Okay,” he says, drawing out the word.

“And you’re, you know!” I try to explain.

“I’m what?” he ask, his body shaking with laughter.

“You’re a pretty good looking guy,” I say as casually as I can.

More like f*cking hot.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says with a laugh, rubbing his hands over the stubble on his chin.

“I’m serious!” I say.

“I can tell,” he says, laughing. What's so funny right now?

“What I’m trying to say is, I’m sure you have a… a healthy sex life. That wouldn’t necessarily stay within your bedroom walls. You know, a man like you would like to change things up now and again I’m sure…” I trail off, because Sax is laughing so hard the whole couch is shaking.

“This is the last time I try and have a deep and meaningful conversation with you. I’m trying to pour my heart out to you, and you’re in crampz,” I huff, crossing my arms against my chest and tapping my foot.

“Crampz?” he asks, grabbing his stomach like laughing so much has given him a stitch.

“It’s something I heard my baby cousin say. Crampz, you know, laughing so hard you get a cramp,” I explain.

Saxon just stares at me before throwing his head back and laughing some more.

“What? Apparently it’s the new LOL,” I tell him with a shrug.

“Are you always this cute?” he asks once his laughter has subsided.

“Excuse me?” I sneer.

“What?” he asks suddenly, playful demeanor gone.

“Did you just tell me that I’m cute?” I ask.

“I did. Is that a problem?” he asks, now obviously confused.

“Well, yeah, cos it’s not a compliment. Cute really means ugly but interesting,” I explain.

Sax looks at me with a blank expression for a moment. “Says who?

“Says everyone,” I say animatedly.

“Okay. Name someone,” he says, a smirk now forming on his lips.

“Well, myself of course,” I say.

“Apparently. Anyone else?” he asks, his laugh starting to make a reappearance.

“Does there need to be other people?” I blurt out, when I can’t think of anyone else that shares my views.

“Well, no. But you said there was.”

“If someone else jumped off a bridge, would you?” I ask. Okay, I’m making no sense now.

Saxon makes a choking sound. “I’m pretty sure that saying doesn’t have any relevance to what we're talking about,” he manages to get out.