Perfect Ruin

8. Tremble

The next morning, I wake up with a huge grin on my face. I try to wipe it off but I can't. It's etched to my face the entire morning, and it's still there even after I brush my teeth, take a shower and slip into my clothes.

Oh god, I'm so damn whipped.

I can't stop thinking about him. I can't stop thinking about how rough and soft his lips feel against mine, how light his touches against my skin, teasing me, and how fiercely he kissed me, as if he wanted me so bad he never wanted to let me go.

Everything with Jax is always contrasting and colliding. He's mean and arrogant, then charming and sweet. One minute, I want to gauge his eyeballs out and the next, I'm wondering how talented those lips are if they meet with mine again. I'm pretty sure I only got the preview last night.

My index finger glides over my bottom lip and I remember how he sucked on it and bit it softly, making me emit a small moan.

Damn, I felt like I was high on narcotics last night because it was too surreal. Everything was perfect. He was perfect. He was kind and sweet, but he never lost his snarky and arrogant side. And I never wanted him to too. For once, I found myself enjoying his company despite his cocky smirks and boisterous words.

Another smile forms on my face, this time even larger than the last.

I've never acted like this before. I feel like so giddy, brimming with excitement. No one has ever made me feel this way before. No man has ever made me feel this way before.

I want him—all of him. The frontier that he displays, the shadows that he hides. His rough edges and his fucked-up personality. His brutality, viciousness, selfishness, kindness and affection for me. All of them I want to embrace, just like how he's embraced everything of me.

I think about him when I head down the stairs for breakfast. The driveway is empty with the exception of my car, so that means my parents aren't home. There's a small stack of grilled cheese sandwiches sitting on the kitchen counter so I take one and bite on it.

I find Beth sitting on the sofa watching re-runs of Friends. I join her, sitting next to her cross-legged. "Hey," I say.

"H-hey," she mumbles. She doesn't acknowledge my presence. Her eyes are still glued to the television screen.

"How was bowling with T and Bray last night?" I ask.

"Fine."

"Did you guys have fun?"

"Yeah."

Then, silence.

That's weird. Usually, she's quite chatty in the morning.

"So, who won?" I ask, shifting my position so I'm facing her. I nudge her on her shoulder playfully. "I bet Bray did. She's been bowling since she was six. One time, she brought me along, she—"

"I know you went on a date with Jax last night," Beth blurts out.

Shit.

"How—?" I'm absolutely taken aback, completely lost for words. "How did you—"

"Bray wasn't doing a g-good job hiding it. She l-let it slip while we were having d-dinner," she murmurs, grabbing the remote and turning off the television. When she turns to look at me, she looks absolutely devastated. "And he t-texted you this morning. S-said that he really enjoyed last night."

I close my eyes, trying to find the right words to say.

"I'm sorry, Beth." I try to grab her hand but she doesn't let me. The liveliness and the color in her face disappears. All there's left is hurt. "It wasn't supposed to be a date—"