Jax (Titan #9)(30)
Seven smiled with her sex-swollen lips and crazy hair. "Don't mind him."
"I didn't," the man said in a heavy accent, handing her the bill to sign. "As long as he's alive, my boss does not care."
She scrawled on the bill and signed with great flare then smiled as though the devil whispered in her ear. "He almost had the life sucked out of him, but I think he's going to make it."
The guy couldn't hold back his laugh, no matter how much he blushed and tried. Even Jax shook his head and chuckled.
She saw the delivery person out then beelined to the cart of food. "What to start with first?" She searched under lids, oohing and ahhing, then went to the kitchenette to wash up.
Probably a good idea. He lumbered up and headed to the bathroom. "Whatever. Be back in a minute."
After a quick glance for his boxer briefs, he didn't see them and decided that naked was still the best course of action. A minute later, hands and face washed, he returned to Seven's elaborate picnic on the nearby couch. She'd moved some blankets and pillows, along with the coffee table, and had lost her sheet-gown.
"This might be one of the best ops I've ever worked."
Her eyebrow rose. "This might be one of the best Mayhem headaches I've ever had."
They both stood there, assessing in silence what that might actually mean and wondering if this would happen again. He had no idea. Too fucking bad. "Pancakes look good."
"Thought so too." Her flat smile didn't match the chipperness of agreement.
They met on the couch and dug in, devouring food with easy conversation, somehow not awkward even though they weren't clothed.
He was full, sated in many ways. And now, Jax's eyes seemed too heavy to stay awake. Seven yawned, and he eyed the bedroom where they'd stolen the covers. "Now we sleep?"
She popped up like a jack-in-the-box. "I need to get going."
His eyes went wide as he watched her fold all the sheets and extra blankets they'd pulled from the closet, smoothing the corners as if they had to be perfect.
"Are you staying here, or were you going back to…" She gestured to the window, and the city skyline was starting to show the break of dawn.
"You're not going to stay here?" he asked.
"People will worry if I'm not in my bed in the morning. Never know with those guys."
Jax ran his hand over his chin. "Right. I'll walk you—"
Her hand went up as if she were stopping traffic. "No. It's okay. I can see myself out."
"Seven…" He tried to get a read on the naked woman folding sheets. "I'm not a caveman. Only a jerk. Okay?"
"Jerk face," she joked quietly. "This has nothing to do with you. Everything to do with me. I like to be on my own. Do things my way. Please don't make me insist and pitch a fit, because I will."
Jax studied her, quieting the chivalrous grumble he didn't want to use in protest. "Sure."
Seven finished folding the blankets and dressed as he pulled on his boxer briefs and jeans, watching her tidy the room. He gathered that there was a certain way she did things, and the woman liked her independence. Who was he to force his protective nature on her, especially when he wasn't that familiar with it when it appeared?
Finally, she looked around, seemingly pleased. "Okay, then."
He grinned. "Things are to your satisfaction?"
She walked over and pressed her lips to his, melting against him on the couch for a goodbye kiss that could've started everything over again if she'd asked him. Jax pulled back, finger-combing her hair. "We should do this again sometime."
A blushing hue hit her cheeks. "Maybe."
Self-conscious innocence wasn't what he'd expected from her, not after all their shenanigans. "See you around, then."
She kissed him one more time then headed to the door. "Bye, Jax. Thanks for a great night."
The hotel door shut, and he waited, wondering if she would knock and change her mind. It was one thing to want to leave, but walking out alone into a cold, lonely hallway and heading into a foreign city, where they were meeting with a cartel boss, was another.
She didn't. A minute ticked by, and still, her exit didn't sit well with him. He wasn't trying to be a patronizing asshole who got his way, but seriously…
Jax tapped his fingers, waiting for the urge to see her home to dissipate. It didn't. "Fuck it."
He stood, grabbed his shirt and shoes, pulled them on, and looked around the room. He didn't want to stay there without her. His hotel room wasn't far away from hers.
After waiting what he was certain was long enough for her to catch an elevator, Jax left the room, went to the lobby, and asked the doorman which way the beautiful woman with pink went. She wasn't someone people could miss or forget.
A moment later, Jax found himself a half block behind a pink-haired showstopper and walked at enough of a distance that he could get to her if someone hassled her. No one did, and he stayed far away when she walked into a hotel with motorcycles lined nearby.
"Get some sleep, Seven." He should too, but suddenly, all he could do was think about whether colors had personalities and if bright, bold pink had meaning.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN