Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 164

The shop’s too quiet when I push the door open, the kind of silence that puts a frown between my brows. I scan the space, but no one’s there. I fish my phone out, type out a quick '*here'* to Xander, and before I can pocket it, I hear another buzz.

It’s coming from his station.

I walk over, pick it up, thumb brushing the screen without thinking. I mean to look around again, call out maybe, but I stop. My gaze catches on the wallpaper and it freezes me where I stand.

It’s us at that antique store. Xander kissing my cheek, his lips pressed against my skin, and the photo caught me in that half-second. It caught the way my eyes softened, the way he makes me look like someone else entirely. Someone lighter who I barely recognize, but maybe always wanted to be.

I should put the damn thing down, but I don’t. I can’t stop staring, like if I blink, it’ll vanish, and I’ll wake up to realize it never happened.

Then footsteps, a door swinging open.

“That was quick.” His voice first, and then him, standing there, smiling in that easy way of his, like it costs him nothing.

I don’t answer right away. His eyes land on the phone in my hand, and he tilts his head, casual and almost teasing. “Tried calling me?” He closes the space between us, takes it from me easy, glances at the text on the screen and smiles to himself. Then he slips it into his pocket. “ I was in the backroom.”

Before I think better of it, my hands are on him. Both palms curling around the back of his neck, pulling him down to me. The kiss hits hard. His mouth soft and firm at once, answering mine like he’d been waiting all day too. My thumb brushes the edge of his jaw, tilting him closer, his breath warm against mine.

He holds me back just as tight, arms sliding around my waist like he’s not letting me go. When we finally break, his voice is low, smile pressed against my mouth. “Missed you too.”

He laces our fingers together, tugging me toward the desk. Two chairs already set side by side. He takes the one next to mine, barely any space left between us, then pulls two lunchboxes out.

My eyes narrow.

He chuckles. “Gave them one to share, then slipped them a twenty for pizza. They folded easy.”

I scoff, grab one of the boxes I packed, pop the lid. “I was with Adam,” I say, eyes still on the food. Xander leans back in his chair, fork poised mid-air.

“So what do you two even talk about?” he asks, tone light, but there’s an edge beneath it, curiosity he won’t admit to. “Because honestly, I can’t picture it.”

I arch a brow at him. “That you trying to figure out if I talk about you?”

He shrugs, all casual arrogance, but that smile gives him away. “Well? Do you?”

Instead of answering, I reach into my lunchbox, scoop up a bite, and hold the spoon out to him. He doesn’t hesitate, just leans in and takes it. I watch his lips close around it, my chest tightening with something stupidly warm. He chews, swallows, then nods. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I shake my head, scoffing, but I don’t correct him. He isn’t wrong.

After a beat, he asks, “Is Nate still around?”

I lean back in the chair, arms crossed loosely. “Last time I dropped by, he wasn’t there. But his stuff still was. He’ll be back eventually. He just doesn’t know how to keep still.”

Xander hums, then almost too casually, he says, “It’s been a while since you’ve slept at your place. It’s almost like we’ve—” He cuts himself off, bringing his fork to his mouth instead. But I heard it.

It’s true. My shit’s piled up at his place. My clothes in his drawers. Like I’ve already moved in without saying it out loud.

He finally turns, gaze locking on mine. “Maybe I should come over to your place too. I know my kitchen stresses you out. And you love yours.”

He’s right, I’ve made his work. But I do miss mine....the order, the appliances, the space. Not enough to give up being here with him, though.

Never that.

“You’d be okay with that?” I ask, my voice quieter. “Even if Nate’s there?”

He tilts his head like it’s the dumbest question I’ve ever asked. “Why wouldn’t I be? And besides, your shower’s pressure puts mine to shame. We’ll head over after work tonight. I’ll crash at yours.”

Something low and fierce pulls tight in my chest. He says it so easily, like it’s already decided.

I nod once. “Okay, then.”

There’s a beat of silence before I smirk. “What about your precious gym?”

“Saw one a block from your place. Gym’s a gym. The equipment doesn’t care who’s lifting it.”

We're quiet for a beat, then he leans back in his chair. “Ziggler says we’ve gotta make up for the hit somehow, since we’re all abandoning him at the same time. And Addy...” his sighs, “...in all her infinite wisdom, suggested work weekends for a while once we return.”

I narrow my eyes. “Why the fuck would she say that?”

“Because she’s already in Paris in her head. She’s only thinking about baguettes and Eiffel Tower selfies.” He chuckles, stabbing at his food. “But it’s fine. I’ll come up with something smarter. A deal to draw in new clients maybe, something that drains us just enough but still keeps the weekends ours.”

I open my mouth, but he beats me to it.

“Speaking of weekends....” There’s a shift in his tone, subtle...careful, and it pulls my gaze to him immediately.

“What?” I study him, the tightness at the corner of his mouth, the way he won’t quite meet my eyes. “Is this about the going home thing? Because I was gonna bring that up too. You should go, I’m serious.”

He nods once like he’s hearing me, but then he’s pushing up out of his chair and sliding behind mine. His arms loop around my shoulders, warm and sure, his mouth brushing against the curve of my neck. I lean back despite myself, despite the instinct that tells me to keep braced for something.

“About that....” His lips trail higher, slow kisses until he reaches my ear, and then he tugs my lobe gently with his teeth.

I turn my head enough to catch his face. “What is it?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just lets his hand skim down my chest, his touch lazy but coaxing.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says, voice a low rasp.

My throat works around a swallow. “And?”

“Michigan’s really something this time of year.” His mouth brushes mine softly while his hand drifts lower, heat in his palm, voice weaving around me. “Lovely beaches, dunes that roll on for miles.....”

And just like that, I still. Every muscle pulled taut. I catch his wandering hand in mine before it can go any further, holding it tight. I turn to face him fully, shake my head once.

“That’s not happening.”

He exhales, retreating back into his own chair with a defeated sigh. “Why not? There’s nothing to be afraid of, Jax.”

“I’m not scared, ” I cut in, sharper than I mean to. “I just—” My mouth shuts on the rest, nothing fitting right. I shake my head again. “I love you, but no.”