I heard Jax exhale a laugh, and I just rolled my eyes.

We both steered clear of commitment, but we went about it differently. He didn’t get caught up in the long line of short, disconnected relationships the way I did. He didn’t mind letting people in, because he knew they’d never make it into the end zone with him.

I was afraid that I would care too much. Jax knew he wouldn’t care enough.

“Who was that?” he asked as we walked back through Madoc’s house and to my car. “Tate’s best friend, K.C.”

We opened our car doors and climbed in.

“What does the K.C. stand for?” He slicked back stray hairs that had fallen out of his pony tail.

“No idea,” I sighed. “She’s been K.C. for as long as I’ve known her.” I looked over at him before turning the ignition. “And don’t,” I ordered.

“Don’t what?”

“I’m trying to get level with Tate. Shit needs to calm down. Don’t create more drama. K.C.’s not a one night stand kind of girl, and she’s definitely too emotional for friends with benefits. Just leave her alone.”

“Too late, brother. My people are hunters.”

His people. I laughed to myself, although it was sad. I doubted Jax even remembered what his mother looked like let alone her tribe’s name. And he was only a fourth American Indian, anyway, but to him, he was all Indian.

“She’s not your type,” I pointed out. “Uptight and whiny.”

Pulling around the driveway, I laid on the gas, speeding down the road towards the gate.

“Exactly my type.” He spoke low. “You can’t fall for someone like that.”

“Son of a bitch,” I grunted, sitting up in bed.

Arching my leg, I rested my forehead in my hand with my elbow propped up on my knee.

I’m so fucked.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 904