JAX (The Beckett Boys #2) - Olivia Chase Page 0,33

to her and to me that I’m a hopeless cause. I sabotaged it, and she doesn’t want to see me again now. Probably for the best, right? We’re wrong for each other, and God knows I’d end up just fucking it up in the future.

That’s what I do, after all.

I stare down at my coffee. My stomach is a knot of tension. When I realized Brooklyn was gone, I sent her several texts asking why she left. Drunk Jax was initially pissed at her just going without saying a word and sent a curt message or two about it. Then Drunk Jax became moony and a little desperate from her silence and asked her to at least let him know she got home okay.

None of the messages received a reply.

I reread them when I got up, shame making my skin hot at all the drunk, fumbling typos, the emotional flip-flopping.

Shit, no wonder she doesn’t want to talk to me. I’m a fucking mess. I ignored her, and she left. Even though she came there to see me—no matter what she says, I know that’s what happened. Brooklyn did something outside of her comfort zone and paid me a visit, and I was a dick, and she saw through my bullshit and decided I wasn’t good enough for her.

I know I’m not, but having her realize it…it makes some stubborn part of me want to prove her and everyone else wrong.

I finish the last swig of coffee and hop in the shower. Showering doesn’t wash away my sullenness. I give a heavy sigh and towel off. Slip into clean clothes. I need to find her and apologize. Yeah, I’m a fucking idiot, but she didn’t deserve for me to treat her like that. At least I can tell her that it was my bad, and if she never wants to see me again, well, it’s what I get.

I exit my house and hop in my car. Stop by a flower store and pick up a small bundle—can’t hurt, right? Ignoring the way part of my brain is taunting me for how I’m trying to woo her, I drive to her campus.

It’s hard to swallow past the tightness in my throat as I make my way up to her dorm room. Will she even be here? I have no idea. I rap on the door and wait.

A moment later, it swings open, and her roommate is staring at me, her face a smooth, expressionless mask. I think her name is…Gail? “Jax. Quelle surprise. What are you doing here?”

I hold up the flowers and give her my most charming smile. “I’ve come to see Brooklyn. Is she in there?” I try to peer over her shoulder.

“And why should I tell you?” Ah, there it is…the frozen judgment in her voice. Clearly, Brooklyn has talked to her.

Do I keep trying to layer on the charm? I’m not sure how well it would work with Gail. She seems like a ball buster. Like she can see right through my usual bullshit. I sigh and drop the flowers to my side. “I fucked up. I want a chance to talk to her.”

She studies me for a long time, so long that I start to lose my cool and struggle against the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. One perfect eyebrow is arched as she coolly says, “You hurt her feelings, you know.”

My stomach sinks. Fuck. “I can make it up to Brooklyn.”

“That’s not really an apology.”

This time it’s my turn to arch my eyebrows. “Well, you’re not the person I need to talk to about it, are you.”

That makes her give me a toothy, primal grin. She leans against the door. “No, but I am the person who knows where she is. I know her way better than you do. And if you’re sincere about wanting to have another chance with her, I’m your best bet. But you’ll have to prove yourself to me first.” She eyes me up and down. “I’m not letting some player wiggle his way back into her life who doesn’t deserve to be there.”

Wow, this girl is hardcore. I have to admit, I’m impressed. She’s got a backbone of steel. I’m not getting by her—at least, not today. “Fair enough. Will you give her these for me and tell her I’ll be back tomorrow to talk to her?”

She takes the flowers. Gives a curt nod. “If you come back tomorrow, I might be persuaded to open the door for you.” A