Jax (Titan #9)(53)

"What was that all about?" she asked when they finally reached the elevators.

"He worries about you." Shrugging, Jax beckoned for her to come closer. "I hated being the guy in the room he didn't trust."

"You come here." Seven curled her fingers, mocking his motion as she swayed her hips and leaned against him. "Or not." The elevator arrived, and Seven curled again, rubbing her back to him and wrapping his forearms around her waist as the doors opened. "Shocking that no one trusts you?"

He laughed. "No one trusts me. But of all people, they should."

Seven walked into the corner before she turned around, and he slapped the number to her floor before pinning her in the corner.

"Knock, knock."

Jax laughed. "Who's there?"

"Boo."

"Boo who?"

"Boo-hoo? Come on, you big tough SEAL, no crying when the MC guys don't like you."

He cackled and tickled her sides, kissing her neck, not letting her go as she crawled against him.

The elevator doors opened, and she ducked under his arm and escaped but held her arm out, waiting for him.

"You're lucky there could be witnesses." He pulled her close. "Death by tickle. Not nearly the strangest thing that happens in Vegas."

Seven giggled as they turned the hall corner. "Are we drunk?"

"You are. Not me."

"Oh, bull!" She turned to push him, but he grabbed her hand, and Seven spun in the hall as if they were dancing, and her short skirt flared.

"Nice moves." The familiar voice and the applause made Jax spin Seven as he turned to face Boss Man.

With Sugar by Jared's side, Jax couldn't tell if his boss was amused or pissed.

Boss Man crossed his arms. "Guess you got the invite to Mayhem tonight."

Guess their intoxication was that obvious. Knock-knock jokes and dancing in the hall were dead giveaways.

"Do you dance?" Seven asked Jared.

Jax grabbed her arm, needing to reel his tipsy motorcycle princess back to reality.

"He can dance." Sugar's evil grin almost reached her ears. "Do you?" She put her hand over Seven's head, reaching for Jax.

"Depends…"

Sugar howled, spinning around Seven.

This was ten kinds of a bad idea.

"Don't be a stick in the mud."

"I'm not," Jax grumbled.

"Then don't be a dick."

Holy shit, how much had Sugar had to drink? And he'd thought these two women didn't like each other. Maybe it was just him that Sugar didn't like.

But it was Jared that shut Jax up. Boss Man, who'd once killed a room full of enemies locked and loaded on him while he was unarmed, let Seven twirl on his finger with the slightest hint of amusement.

Fucking hell. Jax spun Sugar out—and that made Boss Man laugh. Thank God Sugar heard the beat of her own drum and took off dancing around the hall.

For this very moment, Jax was glad he'd spent time with Mayhem's bourbon girl. Between Grace and Seven, he'd survived a room full of questionable people and a cloudy haze of dope, music he didn't like, and business he didn't trust, then semi-danced with Sugar—who hated him.

Seven worked Jared like a ballet bar, and Sugar spun on high heels that Jax was sure doubled as weapons.

"Don't puke." Jared eased Seven to a spinning stop. "Gracefully, though."

"I wouldn't."

"Maybe I was talking to that one." He nodded to his wife.

"Watch yourself, hot stuff." Sugar wriggled away.

Boss Man guided Seven toward Jax, and she leaned against him.

"Not bad, Jax." Sugar laid her head against Jared.

"That was all you."

She preened but then crooked her dark eyebrow. "I still don't like you."

Jax lifted his shoulders, not caring about anything but Seven plastered to his chest. "I don't know, Sugar. Progress? At least you can say it to my face."

She cackled. "Guess so." Sugar crooked her finger at Seven. "She's growing on me."

"On that note"—Jared shook his head—"we gotta go."

Sugar dropped her hand. "Maybe that's why I like you two as a couple."

Jared remained silent, knowing that he'd told Jax to do what it took to get an invite to the meeting tonight and having no idea how much groundwork had already been laid for a friendly arrangement.

Sugar pivoted to her husband on the spiked dagger heel. "You don't think so?"

"I think Jax is off the clock. I give no fucks what he does tonight."

She tossed her dark hair. "I care."

"But you hate us." Seven leaned forward as he tightened his grip on her, making sure she was well anchored to his side.

"I hate"—Sugar pursed her lips—"inconsistency."

They could agree on that, but he wouldn't say it aloud.

Jared chuckled. "This is what I've learned, especially about nights with my favorite people before a job kicks off. You have to relax in whatever way gets the job done so that when it's time to get serious and focus, your mind is sharp."

"Wait, people?" Sugar teased.