Page 47 of Lies You Told
I stand up and lower my shorts.
He kisses my ass. The marks are still there, but nothing lasting. I looked in the mirror before I came to find him. He kisses every mark. He pulls up my shorts, patting me on my ass.
“I’ve ordered food. I’m guessing by the look of your fridge and cupboards that your kitchen doesn’t get used much?”
“Not really,” I smile, biting my bottom lip. “But I’d bet yours is the same.”
“Touché,”
I watch as he picks his laptop up and closes it all in one move. Then it hits me. I’d have expected him to be long gone if this was any other guy. But I don’t want Jax to leave. I might still be feeling the effects of my orgasm high or even the endorphins of Jaxson’s belt peppering over my skin. But something feels like it’s shifted. It’s not something I’m used to feeling.
“Don’t go yet,” I say. My voice sounds so low I’m not even sure Jax heard me until I look over to him and see him looking at me, a smirk spreading over his face. It feels genuine and reminds me of the guy I used to know. The guy I got to know for the smallest of times. I’m instantly taken back to our first day in class together.
TEN YEARS AGO
I hate being late. This is how I find myself being the first person to get to my first class at Harvard. Fucking Harvard. I did it. Growing up, this only seemed like it could have been a dream. People in my family don’t attend Ivy League colleges. Hell, they don’t attend college at all. I’ve worked my ass off the last three years, keeping my grades perfect throughout my junior and senior years of high school. I never knew how much my life would change when people talked about scholarships one day. Then I remembered something my Mom had said to me just before she died. ‘If you ever need anything, Mr. Huntington will help you.’ That’s the reason I’m here right now. Greyson Huntington is like my fairy-fucking-godmother, and I’m going to spend the next couple of years with my head down and my books open. I don’t want to let Greyson down. He’s taken a chance on me.
The room is empty, and the lecture room is just as I imagined. All rich-looking wooden desks were laid out in rows forming the perfect semi-circle. I debate sitting at the front, but I’m not much of an ass-kissing people-pleaser. So I pick my seat, middle row just off center.
I’m doodling about on my pad when a hot guy walks in, rocking the jeans and hoodie combo with a baseball cap look. I don’t make eye contact, but follow his movements out of the corner of my eye. I laugh to myself as he seems to do the same as I did, eyeing up the seating in the room. I guess I’m not the only one eager for the first day. He takes his cap off, and I was right with my first impression of him. He is hot. I don’t realize that I’m watching him until he clears his throat, then I see it. A smirk that I know has got this guy laid probably every week since he’s been screwing in high school.
I feel my body getting hotter, my cheeks turning red like hot red. Boy, am I in trouble if this guy is going to be in my class for the next three years?
PRESENT DAY
“I’d love to know what you were just thinking about,” Jax says, his hands in his front pockets.
“The first time I saw you,” I say, fidgeting with my hands. “You had the same stupid look on your face you have now.”
“Really? Memorable day, huh?”
“Well, it was our first day in class together.”
“That wasn’t the first time we saw each other.”
“Yeah, it was. I would have…” I stop myself before I say something embarrassing. Of course, nothing gets past Jax.
“Would have what?” he says, and I didn’t think it was possible for the smile on his face to get cockier or bigger, but it does.
I laugh nervously. He has that effect on me so much. “Okay, so when was the first time you saw me?”
He sits back down on my couch, spreading his legs and getting comfy. “It was about twenty minutes before our first class. You were outside the building. You kept looking over at the building as if itching to get inside. Of course, now I know you have this constant need to be early every place you go.”
“So, what was your first impression of me? Because we all know things changed a few weeks later.”
I don't miss the wince, and I instantly feel bad. I need to stop. I’ve forgiven him. I wouldn’t have let go in front of him like I just did otherwise. “Sorry.”
“Chlo, you never have to apologize. Do you hear me?”
Jax's phone vibrates on the couch next to him. “Food’s arrived. I’ll go down and get it.”
While Jax goes down, I make myself useful and get us a drink from the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of wine out of the cooler, that thing’s always full.
“That smells great,” I say as I walk back into the living room. Another guy is standing with Jax.
“Hi?” I say.
“Ms. Lawson,” he says, holding out his hand. He’s a big fucking guy, and I know instantly that this is the guy Jax has hired to, well, whatever he’s hired him for.
