Femme Fatale

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Realization

Jax sat on the edge of the bathtub, towel around his waist, watching Jo intently as she combed through her wet hair with her fingers. The power of his gaze caught her attention, and she turned to look at him. 

His ocean blue eyes were contemplative, and Jo knew he wanted to say something. There was about to be a post-coital confession. 

She hated those.

Jo closed the space between them, leaned down to give him a quick kiss, then started to exit the bathroom.

"Wait," Jax said, taking hold of her wrist. 

Jo cursed to herself. She was too slow.

Jax stood up, took both of her hands in his, and pulled her in close. He gazed at Jo adoringly. Her skin was glowing, and her cheeks were flushed from her earlier sexual release. Jo's big hazel eyes studied him. 

She braced herself.

"I don't know how to say this..." Jax paused and furrowed his brow. 

Jo could feel her heart beating faster in her chest.

"But, I really can't imagine life without you at this point," Jax said. He closed his mouth and searched her face.

Jo just stared at him, not knowing how to respond, and certainly not knowing how to feel.

"I guess that's all," Jax concluded. 

"Well, that's not all, but that's all I'm going to say." Jax kissed her gently on the lips. "For now."

Jax wanted to say he had hopelessly fallen for her. He wanted to say, Please, for the love of God, stay with us. Be a part of our team. 

But he knew better than to do that. Well, Michael knew better, and he had instructed Jax to give her space.

Jo was not a woman you told what to do. You had to put the ball in her court, ask nicely, walk away, and just hope for the best. Anything more aggressive than that, and she would call off the entire game and walk away.  

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Jo was surprised with herself. Jax had somewhat expressed his feelings, and her immediate reaction wasn't to run away in the opposite direction and avoid him like the plague. 

Normally, such a confession was her cue to end things, but that wasn't the case with Jax. Rather, it felt like his words could indicate the beginning of something. The beginning of what, exactly, she wasn't sure.

Do I have feelings for him, too? The scary thought flooded her body with panic. Jo closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose to ease some of the tension she was feeling.

Maybe I'm just confusing sex with emotions, Jo told herself. 

But that thought did little to ease her worries. Jo could always compartmentalize sex and emotions. At least, she could before Jake. She began to fret to herself, wondering what was wrong with her. 

When Michael approached, Jo was still sitting on the edge of the dock, staring pensively across the turquoise water. He sat down beside her and studied her face quietly. Her big eyes were glazed over, as if she was looking at the ocean but not really seeing it because she was so lost in thought.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

Jo's eyes regained focus and a smile started to form at her lips. She turned to look at Michael, and his heart warmed under her gaze. 

So beautiful. 

"Nothing, really," Jo said. She stared back off into the horizon. 

Michael was not convinced. "I see," he murmured.

He leaned over and kissed Jo's shoulder, his beard tickling her bare skin. She suppressed a tiny squeal as his touch heated her body even more than the blazing sun.

Jo sighed. "I feel different," she confessed.

Michael waited for her to say more, he wanted her to say more, but she didn't. He knitted his eyebrows together and frowned. 

Michael could initiate a soul-baring conversation with a mime, but this young woman was an enigma. Jo had been through a lot, and she never talked about it. She didn't even acknowledge it. 

Michael ran his tongue along the seam of his bottom lip. "Jax says you talk in your sleep," he said. 

Jo stiffened, her back rigid and her arms tense. She tightened her grip on the dock's edge, turning her knuckles white. 

Michael put his palm over her hand. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently. Jo shook off his hand like it had leprosy. 

"No." She didn't even look at him.

"Jo-"

"Don't, Michael," Jo said in a warning tone, effectively ending the conversation.

"Okay," he said, backing off. "I'm s-"

Before he could even apologize, Jo pushed off from the wooden dock and threw herself into the water with a loud splash. When she came up for air, she quickly transitioned into a freestyle stroke and swam away as fast as she could. 

She was desperate to get far, far away from these men and their serious conversations.

Faster.

Faster!

Jo was swimming furiously through the water, her strong legs leaving an exploding trail of bubbling foam in their wake. Her arms rotated like windmills as they cut the water's surface, propelling her forward. Her lungs were burning and the pressure in her head was mounting, but she didn't want to come up for oxygen. She welcomed the pain. 

The saltwater was stinging her eyes, but she enjoyed the burning assault on her eyeballs. The pain distracted her from her confusing mess of thoughts and feelings.

Michael remained seated on the dock, completely stunned. This girl would rather fling herself into the ocean than talk to him about the source of her night terrors. The two of them had become reasonably close – they had slept together, for God's sake – and yet she still refused to open up about anything. 

Shaking his head, Michael stood up. He dove into the water and swam after his runaway mermaid.

Jo was afloat in the water when an exhausted Michael finally reached her. Her eyes were closed and her arms were stretched out so that her body formed a T. Her long dark hair splayed out like an ink spill about her tranquil face.

"Jo," he panted. When his feet touched the sandy floor of the ocean, he sent a silent "thank you" to the high heavens. His limbs felt like lead and his heart was thudding out of his chest. And yet here Jo was, floating in the water blissfully, not at all winded from the long swim.

Jo opened her eyes when she heard Michael's voice. Her legs sunk down and she began to tread water as she observed him.

"Hey, come here," Michael said, pulling her body into his. Jo wasn't tall enough to stand on the ocean floor, so she wrapped her arms around his neck for support.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his blue-grey eyes searching hers.

"Don't apologize," Jo said. "You didn't do anything wrong."

She wrapped her legs around Michael's waist and tightened her hold around his neck. She rested her chin on Michael's shoulder and closed her eyes. He made her feel secure. Anchored. Even though she seemed to always melt in his arms, she knew he'd be able to hold her up.

And then it hit her: she did have feelings for both Jax and Michael.

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Thank you for reading :). What did you think of this chapter?