Chapter 317 - 0317: Jaxx And I Are Very Different

Chapter 317: Chapter 0317: Jaxx And I Are Very Different

Lexy’s Point Of View

I rolled my eyes so hard I actually felt a muscle strain somewhere behind my left eyelid. My whole body screamed for a hot bath, a giant glass of cheap wine, and a five-day nap, but instead, I found myself trapped in this sweltering concrete oven with a ghost from my worst teenage nightmares.

"Stay away from me, Roman," I snapped, trying to shove my car keys into the ignition slot without revealing how badly my fingers trembled. The metal kept slipping against the plastic, my coordination shot from exhaustion and his unnerving presence. "Just stay far away. You and Jaxx are cut from the same cloth. No difference whatsoever. Same expensive clothes, same infuriating smirks, same trail of absolute destruction left in your wake. I don’t have the time or the mental bandwidth for this today."

Roman let out that low, aggravating chuckle again, his broad shoulders shifting against the driver’s side door of my sedan. He looked entirely too comfortable, entirely too unbothered by my blatant hostility. The casual way he leaned there, as if he owned the very air around him, made my blood pressure spike.

Some people had that effect... they walked into a room and claimed it without saying a word. Roman had perfected the art in high school, and apparently, the years had only sharpened his skills.

"Now, that’s where you’re wrong, princess," he murmured, his voice dropping into that smooth, gravelly register that always sounded like he’d just woken from a midday nap. The nickname grated on my nerves, a relic from years I’d worked hard to forget. "Jaxx and I are very different people. Very different. You’re looking at us through that old high school lens, Lexy. You think you know the whole story, but you’re only reading the cover."

"Oh, really?" I scoffed, throwing my hands up in exasperation. My heavy designer bag slipped down my elbow, making me groan with pure, unadulterated exhaustion. The weight of it felt like a metaphor for this entire conversation... beautiful on the outside, crushing on the inside. "Different how? Please, enlighten me. Because from where I’m standing, you both seem to specialize in showing up exactly where you aren’t wanted and making a total mess of things."

Roman’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. If I hadn’t been watching him so closely against my better judgment, I might have missed it. That tiny crack in his armor told me I’d struck a nerve, and the petty part of me felt a small surge of satisfaction.

"The Jaxx he’s showing you, the one he’s showing Elena right now? That’s the cool Jaxx," Roman said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched a stray bead of sweat roll down the side of my face. Something in his expression shifted, became more serious. Almost concerned, if I didn’t know better. The change unsettled me more than his usual cocky demeanor ever could.

I rolled my eyes again, letting out a sharp, cynical laugh that bounced off the concrete walls around us. "Cool? Are you out of your mind? There’s nothing cool about him! He’s a walking disaster area!" My voice rose with each word, frustration bleeding through every syllable. Years of pent-up resentment toward them came pouring out, and I couldn’t seem to stop the flood. "He’s secretive, he’s arrogant, and he’s currently making my best friend’s life an absolute living hell with all his little mysteries!"

"Trust me, that’s him being chill," Roman insisted, his tone shifting into something slightly more grounded, though that mocking glint never quite left his eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest, the movement drawing my attention to how much he’d changed since high school. The lanky teenager had filled out into someone who looked like he could break down doors for a living.

"Jaxx and I are very, very different. The way he handles things when he’s trying to be a good boy for Elena exists in a completely separate universe from how things actually go down when the gloves come off."

I paused, my hand freezing on the handle of my car door. The concrete garage felt suddenly colder, despite the thick Texas heat sticking to the back of my neck. A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with temperature. Something in Roman’s voice... a darkness I’d never heard before, made the hairs on my arms stand up.

I squinted up at him, my exhaustion momentarily losing the battle against my mounting confusion and if I was being honest with myself, a flicker of genuine concern.

"So... what are you implying?" I asked, my voice dropping an octave as I glared into his handsome, irritating face. My heart thudded harder now, anxiety creeping in around the edges of my anger. Elena’s face flashed through my mind, her hopeful smile when she talked about Jaxx, the way she’d defended him despite all the red flags.

"Are you implying he’s worse than what we’ve seen and heard? Because let me tell you, what we’ve seen and heard is already enough to land him a permanent spot on my blacklist."

Roman only smiled. He didn’t answer with words, just offered that infuriating, close-lipped grin that told me he knew fifty secrets I’d never even dream of, and he wasn’t planning on sharing a single one for free. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken warnings. His eyes held mine, and for a moment, I saw something flicker there... a warning, maybe, or a challenge. I couldn’t tell which scared me more.

"Whatever," I muttered, my frustration peaking as I gave up on trying to decode his cryptic nonsense. My hands shook slightly as I fumbled with my keys again, the metal jangling loudly in the quiet garage. "I don’t care. I honestly do not care about your little brotherly dynamics or whatever dark past you two share. Just don’t come near me. Stay on your side of the city, Roman."

I took a breath, steadying myself for what came next. The words needed to be said, even if they made me sound like a character from a bad action movie. "And you can do me a massive favor: tell Jaxx I will personally cut his balls off if he hurts Elena. I don’t care how ’cool’ or dangerous he thinks he is. If she cries one more tear because of his family drama, I’m coming for him."

Before the last word could even fully leave my mouth, Roman took a sudden, heavy step closer. The space between us dissolved in a second. He was so big, his chest practically filling my entire field of vision, and I caught the scent of expensive cologne, laundry detergent, and fresh mints. The combination was annoyingly pleasant, which only irritated me further.

My breath caught in my throat despite my determination not to show weakness. This close, I could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, the slight stubble along his jaw that he’d probably have to shave twice a day to keep smooth.

"Don’t talk about cutting another man’s balls off when I’m standing right here, you can have mine" he said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, smoky growl that vibrated straight through the concrete floor and into my bones. The words carried an implication I didn’t want to examine, wrapped in a tone that made my stomach do an unwelcome flip.

My eyes widened to the size of saucers. My heart did a violent, panicked flip against my ribs, and heat flooded my cheeks... whether from anger or something else entirely, I refused to examine. The rational part of my brain screamed at me to get in the car and drive away, but my body seemed frozen in place.

Without thinking, my hand flew out and I smacked his chest hard.

Thump.

The impact stung my palm, but his chest felt like hitting a brick wall wrapped in expensive cotton.

"Pervert!" I screamed, the word echoing loudly off the pillars of the empty parking lot. "You absolute pervert! Get away from me!"

I turned in a blind panic, ripping my car door open, ready to dive into the driver’s seat and lock the world out. My pulse raced, my skin felt too hot, and I desperately needed distance from whatever just happened. The air between us had shifted into something charged and confusing, and I wanted no part of it. But just as my foot hit the floor mat, I paused. My eyes caught the bright yellow label of the glass bottle he’d set on the roof of my car. The cold pineapple juice. My favorite.

The realization that he’d remembered... that he’d brought it specifically for me, sent a confusing jolt through my chest. In high school, I’d gone through a phase where I drank pineapple juice obsessively, claiming it helped with my complexion. Roman had teased me mercilessly about it, but apparently, he’d filed that detail away somewhere in his infuriating brain. The gesture felt too thoughtful, too personal, and it clashed violently with everything I wanted to believe about him.

I whirled back around, my movements clumsy with fatigue and conflicting emotions, and grabbed the neck of the bottle with a fierce, greedy grip. The glass was cool and slick with condensation against my overheated palm, instantly soothing against my flushed skin.

"This," I gasped out, raising the sweating glass bottle between our faces like a weapon, "is payment for emotional damage! Do you hear me? For the last ten years and for today!" My voice cracked slightly on the last word, betraying more vulnerability than I’d intended.

The admission hung in the air between us... that he’d affected me, that those years still mattered, that I hadn’t forgotten a single thing. I hated that he could still get under my skin like this, hated that part of me wanted to stay and figure out what game he was playing. But I was too tired, too overwhelmed, and far too confused to deal with Roman Ashford today.

Roman didn’t even try to stop me. He just stood there, hands sliding back into his pockets, that insufferable, wicked smirk returning to his lips as he watched me scramble into the vehicle. The look on his face... amused, knowing, infuriatingly calm made my blood boil.

I slammed the door shut and hit the lock button three times just to be absolutely sure, my fingers trembling with a mixture of rage and something else I refused to name. Ramming the keys into the ignition, I zoomed off, the tires screeching loudly against the smooth garage floor as I left him standing there in the exhaust fumes.

I drove like a woman possessed for twenty straight minutes, navigating through the thick Houston traffic with reckless determination. My knuckles were white on the steering wheel, my jaw clenched so tight it ached. The towering skyscrapers of the business district gradually shrank to small shapes in my rearview mirror, but the distance didn’t bring the relief I’d hoped for.

Finally, my hands started shaking so badly I could barely hold the steering wheel straight. The adrenaline that had carried me this far was draining away, leaving nothing but raw nerves in its wake. I pulled the car over onto the dusty gravel shoulder of a quieter side road, threw the gear into park, and slammed my forehead down onto the leather steering wheel with a heavy, pathetic groan.

"How..." The word came out barely above a whisper to the empty dashboard, my breath rattling in my throat. "How did he find me? After all these years..."

The image of his smirk burned behind my eyelids, seared into my memory like a brand. I lifted my head, staring blankly out the windshield at the shimmering heat rising off the asphalt. The world outside looked hazy, distorted, as unreal as the encounter I’d just fled. It was ridiculous. It was terrifying. And worst of all, some traitorous part of me had felt alive in his presence in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

"I knew he would never change," I muttered fiercely, wiping a stray drop of sweat from my temple with the back of my hand. My skin felt clammy, feverish. "Once a pervert, always a pervert. He’s exactly the same as he was in that library."

But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t entirely true. There had been something different about him... something harder, more dangerous. The boy I’d known had grown into a man who looked like he could command a room with a single glance. The thought sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine.

My eyes wandered over to the passenger seat, where the cold glass bottle of pineapple juice was rolling slightly against the leather. The condensation had formed a small puddle beneath it, a wet circle spreading across the expensive upholstery. I reached over, grabbed it, and popped the cap off with a sharp, angry twist.

The first sip was incredibly sweet, freezing cold, and hit my parched, exhausted throat like absolute heaven. I drank half the bottle in three giant gulps, letting out a long, shaky breath as the sugar hit my system and my racing heart began to slow.

"Even if Jaxx is the devil himself," I whispered, staring down at the yellow liquid as though it might hold answers, my thoughts drifting back to my best friend, back to the mess she was trying to clean up, "as long as he doesn’t hurt Elena... then I’m okay with it. She’s been through enough. We all have."

Elena deserved happiness, deserved peace after everything she’d endured. I couldn’t let my own problems interfere with that. I wouldn’t.

But then, my mind completely betraying me, slipped right back to the way Roman’s gray shirt had felt under my palm when I smacked his chest. The solid weight of him, all muscle and heat. The way he’d looked at me like he’d been waiting ten years just to say my name, like I was something precious he’d thought he’d lost forever. The intensity in those dark eyes had been almost unbearable.

I shook my head violently, throwing the half-empty juice bottle back into the cup holder with more force than necessary and putting the car back into drive. The engine hummed to life beneath me, steady and reliable in a way nothing else in my life seemed to be.

"That idiot," I muttered to myself, my face feeling suddenly hot despite the car’s AC finally kicking in at full blast. "That absolute idiot."

But I wasn’t sure anymore if I was talking about Roman or myself.