004

~KAI POV~

I barely slept.

I kept replaying the newsroom door closing. Jax's fingers on my collarbone like he was tracing a claim.

My dick stayed half-hard for hours.

I jerked off in the dark thinking about his voice saying "good," came fast and hated myself faster. I shower after, cold this time. It didn't help.

The marks are still there, throbbing, proof.

Morning comes too quickly. My hoods up. Earbuds in. Nothing playing. Just noise to drown the echo of my own breathing.

The hallway's packed. Lockers slam.

I spin my combo wrong twice.

My fingers are still shaky from last night. My neck collar was pulled high. Concealer did jack shit—the bite mark peeks out like a bruise I earned.

Then he's there.

Three lockers down. Leaning. His phone in hand, reading slowly. Smirking like he's tasting every word I wrote to hurt him.

He doesn't look up right away. He lets me feel watched first.

When his eyes lift....dark, amused, bruise under the left one looking like he wore it for me...my stomach drops.

"Nice try," he says, quietly, just for me.

I slam my locker. The metal rings.

"Fuck off, Carter."

He pushes off the wall. Steps closer. It was slow, relaxed. Like we're nothing.

"You spelled 'arrogant' right. Progress."

My jaw tight. "Move."

He's close now. The air feels heavy. It smells like cedar. My jacket is cold. I breathe the air in, more than I want to. People walk by. Someone calls his name like it's holy. He doesn't break eye contact.

"You're mad," he says, soft and almost careful.

"No shit."

"You're mad because you liked it."

Heat floods my face. I glance—nobody is close enough to hear. Milo's down the hall somewhere.

"I didn't like anything."

He steps in. His body heat hits me before his hand does. My back meets locker metal, cold bite through hoodie.

His knuckles graze my hip. Slow. Intentional. It slides under the hem of my shirt. His thumb hooks the waistband of my jeans—just the edge, not pulling, just holding, claiming space I didn't give.

My breath snags. Loud and embarrassing.

He feels it. He leans closer. His mouth near my ear.

"You're shaking again." his Voice low and rough. "Still pretending you hate it?"

I dig nails into his jacket, and I try to shove. Hips press forward instead—traitor kink. My dick thickens against my thigh, wet already and leaking just from his thumb pressing there.

From his breath on my neck.

I hate how my mouth waters. Hate how my body remembers his thigh between mine last night. Hate how I almost moan right here in the hallway.

Across the way— stood Milo.

He's frozen, backpack half-slung, his eyes on my hand fisted in Jax's jacket. On Jax's thumb hooked in my waistband. On the way my chest rises too fast.

Milo's face doesn't break. It just... empties. Like he's watching the door lock all over again. Guilt slams me low—quick, sick twist in my gut. Right as heat pools harder. Shame and want knot so tight I can't breathe right.

Jax glances over and sees Milo. He doesn't move his hand. Milo looks at me, for long and in silence. Then turns and walks away. His shoulders stiff.

The guilt spikes hotter than the arousal. I shove harder this time. Jax lets me push him back—one step. His thumb slips free.

"You're an asshole," I rasp.

"Yeah."

No apology, he just looked at me. Like he knows exactly what he's doing to me.

"I'm not doing this."

"You already are." He leans in one last time. His voice drops so only I hear.

"You can write whatever you want. Call me selfish. Reckless. Doesn't change that you let me touch you. Doesn't change you're wet for it right now."

My face burns. My dick throbs. I clench my thighs—pointless.

"Fuck you."

He smiles.

"Later." Then he walks. The crowd splits for him. Some king shit.

I stay there. Back to the locker, breathing ragged, hand shaking where it brushed my waistband—right where his thumb was.

My phone buzzes.

Milo.

'You okay?'

I stare at the screen. My thumbs hover, I don't reply, just shove it in my pocket and walk the other way, knowing I'm lying to him.

Lying to Jax.

Lying to myself worst.

Because yeah. I'm wet, and yeah. I'm thinking about it.

And yeah.

I'm already counting the minutes until "later."