More common sense seems to return to my frazzled mind, and I yank my hand free from his grip.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I seethe as my anger quickly burns through my body now that my focus is no longer on Jax.
“You shouldn’t be here, Leigh. Your father will kill me. I’ve heard him talk about his little girl. I’m not pissing off the man who might have his hands inside my dad’s chest one of these days.”
I throw my hands in the air, actually dumbfounded by how quickly the night went downhill.
“You know what,” I say as I start to walk towards the side of the house, “I don’t want to be here. Why the hell I’m torturing myself like this is beyond me.”
I keep walking, not looking back to see if Willow is coming. I’d rather sit outside the apartment for the entire night than spend another second here.
Chapter 2
JAXSON
It fucking pisses me off that I keep looking up to the apartment and wondering if the pretty little thing is home.
Della’s truck has been giving her problems, and with Carter already giving her shit, I offered to help her out. I glance up, and my eye catches my brother and Marcus sitting in the truck, talking shit.
“So much for helping,” I say, wondering why they even came along.
“We are helping,” Marcus shouts as if I’m not standing a few feet from him. “We’re here for moral support.”
“Fuck moral support. You could go get beers. It’s fucking hot out here.”
“For breakfast?” Logan raises an eyebrow at me, clearly not impressed with my request.
I just grin and get back to work. The truck’s timing is fucked to hell. It sounds like it’s dying when you start it. Trust a chick to fuck up a perfectly good piece of machinery.
I wipe the sweat from my forehead before checking which parts we need to buy.
Soft laughter catches my attention, and I glance up to see who it’s coming from.
Fuck me.
Leigh’s standing on the other side of the truck. The smile on her face takes my breath away, and again I’m struck by how beautiful she is. I thought she was fucking with me when she said she’s nineteen, but Evie confirmed it. She looks nothing over seventeen, but it might be because she’s so small. Not small as in short, but rather fragile looking. Beautiful is really not the right word to describe her. She’s got a waiflike delicacy, which makes you want to protect her. Well, until she opens her mouth and nails you with one of those death glares she seems to favor so much.
She’s a little too slender for my liking, but with a face like that, it’s something that can be overlooked.
Her eyes look like melted chocolate and her hair, fuck I’d love to feel it wrapped around my fist as I silence her with an orgasm. No scratch that. As I make her beg for an orgasm. Yeah, I’d love to see the princess beg for my cock.
“You find something funny?” I rest my hands on the side of the truck, smirking at her. It seemed to get her all riled up on Friday whenever I smirked.
“Not really… yeah, maybe.” She laughs again, a light musical sound that has a direct link to my cock. She better stop smiling before I embarrass myself by going rock hard right here in public.
“Care to share?” I keep my tone bored which makes her smile fade a little.
She points to her face. “You have grease all over the right side of your face. Looks like the truck is kicking your ass.”
The grin on my face widens as I yank my shirt off and wipe my face with it. Just like Friday night, her eyes drop to my chest. Fuck, I wonder if she’s even seen a naked guy. I doubt it. She’s probably one of those women who insist you switch the light off before fucking.
“See something you like, Princess?”
Her eyes dart to my face, and I wink at her as a blush colors her cheeks. I’d like to find out if her cheeks will flush the same way when she’s coming apart under me.
She lifts a tray with frosted glasses. I didn’t even notice that she brought us something to drink.
“Yeah, I do,” she says as she places the tray on the floor. “Just a pity that such a great body is being wasted on a shitty personality.”
“Burn!” Marcus laughs from behind me. The fucker has been watching this little dance between Leigh and me. I give him a thanks-for-having-my-back-dickhead glare which only makes him laugh harder.
“So being a bitch, it just comes naturally to you?”
She arches an eyebrow, clearly ready for anything I might throw at her today. For some fucked up reason, I’m not willing to admit to myself yet, I find this feisty side of her sexy as hell compared to the frazzled mess she was at the party.
“No, it’s an allergic reaction I have to assholes like yourself.”
“You really love that word… assholes. For a pretty little thing, you sure love to talk dirty.”
She flips her hair over her shoulder and smiles sweetly. Yeah, like I’d be stupid enough to fall for that shit.
“You have a thing for the word bitches. But don’t worry, I understand. We can’t all have good taste in vocabulary.”
I glance up to the heavens for help as Marcus starts cracking up with laughter. Logan joins in, only making things worse.
“Finally, someone who doesn’t take shit from my brother.”
I glare at Logan, but he ignores it and widens his smile as he reaches a hand out to her.
“I’m Logan West, the better brother.”
I can’t argue with that because he really is the better brother.
“Leigh Baxter. I see you got the personality and charm. Lucky for you he got saddled with all the shitty parts.”
Fuck, this woman is really pushing it. I give her a look which promises payback when she least expects it.
“Well, it was… fun, for lack of a better word. When you’re done with the drinks, please bring the tray up to the apartment.”
I watch her walk away, thinking it won’t be much of a hardship to screw that stuck-up attitude out of her.
∞∞∞
LEIGH
I hold the cold bottle of water to my neck, trying to cool down after my altercation with Jaxson. There’s just something about him that gets under my skin.
I walk back to the couch and take a sip of the water as I sit down. Dragging my laptop closer, I fully intend on getting lost in the latest posts on all the medical forums I’m a member of.
When I read the same post for the fourth time, I sigh and lean my head back against the couch. Jaxson West. Even his name sounds hot.
Ugh.
Whatever I’m feeling right now feels nothing like the crush I had on one of my professors.
No, it’s definitely not a crush. This is more like that feeling you get when you have an itchy bite under your foot, or when you sit in gum.
Jaxson is nothing but an arrogant asshole, albeit a hot as hell asshole. He’s an asshole, nonetheless.
He’s right. Since I’ve met him I’ve been using the word asshole way too much.
Mindlessly, I look up the definition of the word.
Merriam-Webster: A stupid, annoying, or detestable person.
No, not quite the definition I’m looking for when it comes to Jaxson West. I scroll down until I find one which makes me smile.
Bingo!
Urban Dictionary: A guy who thinks he is the shit. In his eyes he can get ANY girl he wants. He thinks he can sleep with any girl. Not only that, he is just an ass to anyone and everyone.
We have a winner.
Jaxson scares the shit out of me when he suddenly flops down on the couch. I didn’t hear him come in.
“Are you watching porn?” He grabs my laptop, and before I can try to get it back, he reads the definition out loud.
This cannot be happening right now.
I fight the urge to crawl under the couch as waves of embarrassment hit. It doesn’t help that he’s still shirtless. I can’t keep my eyes from feasting on his muscular chest and golden skin. For a senseless moment, I wonder what it would feel like to run my hands over his chest.
He closes the laptop and places it on the coffee table before leaning back against the couch and throwing his arm behind me. I quickly move my eyes to his face so he doesn’t catch me gawking at him.
I want to slap the smug look right off his face when he leans closer.
“You’ve been thinking about me.”
“Get over yourself,” I snap, feeling my victory of earlier slipping away.
“Don’t worry, Princess. You’re not my type.”
I don’t know why hearing that upsets me, but I refuse to let it show.
“Like I care. You most probably find your kind at the nearest corner.”
He lets out a sinister laugh which tells me I’m pushing all his buttons.
Glad to know I’m getting under his skin.
“Sweetheart, I like them to be of age and with a set of tits you can actually see without having to use a magnifying glass. I’ll need GPS to find whatever you’ve got hidden under that shirt.”
What. The. Hell?
His words hit hard, making my heart ache with the sting of not being good enough. I know I don’t have perfect breasts, but for him to blatantly point it out like that makes me feel self-conscious and flawed.
Unable to be around him for a second longer, I get up and take the bottle of water back to the kitchen. I do my best to shove the negative emotions away. The last thing I want is for him to see how much his words have upset me.
I wish Willow were here. Hell, I’d be happy if any of the girls came home right now, but they’re all at school. I should’ve locked the front door behind me.