Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 201

JAX'S POV

I finish packing Xander's lunch, sliding the lid shut before I realize I’ve been smiling the whole damn time. It’s stupid, but there’s something grounding about it ....slicing fruit, sealing containers, making sure he won’t forget to eat. By the time I head back to the bedroom, he’s half-dressed, standing by the wardrobe.

He looks up briefly, catches me as I sit at the edge of the bed. “You sure you don’t want me to drop you off?” I ask, watching him tug a long-sleeved shirt over his t-shirt.

He shakes his head, pulling at his cuffs. “Nah. You should just get ready to head to the farm. No point in leaving just to drop me a few blocks away, only to ride back.”

“I don’t mind,” I tell him, voice softer than I mean it to be. “I like dropping you off.” He glances up, and I add, “It’s more time with you.”

That earns me one of his smiles....the kind that starts subtle, barely there, and then unfurls into something that wrecks me quietly. It’s the same smile that trapped me the first time I saw it.

He rolls up his sleeves as he walks toward me, forearms flexing just enough to distract me. “You dozed off pretty quick last night,” he says.

I huff out a laugh, I don’t even know how. One second I was holding him, the next I was gone. His mouth quirks as he tilts his head. “You think maybe that was on purpose? So I wouldn’t get to have you?”

“You think too much.”

He leans down before I can say more, catches my lips in a quick, soft kiss that ends too soon. “I know it wasn’t,” he says, a low murmur against my mouth. “You were secretly looking forward to it.”

And he’s right, I was. Xander’s only fucked me twice, but fuck if he didn’t leave a mark both times. There’s something about the way he touches me that unravels things I didn’t even realize were still wound tight. And I can’t decide whether it terrifies me or keeps me breathing.

He straightens, distracted now by the way I’m still looking at him. I reach into the drawer beside the bed and pull out the two bracelets we got from Albert’s store.... still in the same little paper pouch they came in.

When I hold them up, Xander’s brows lift. “Oh, hell, I completely forgot about those.”

“I didn’t,” I say, pulling the bracelets from the pouch. The silver glints faintly in the light. “Just.... things have been—”

I stop there. No need to finish. He'll get what I mean. I place one on the bed and reach for his hand, his palm is warm. He doesn’t resist when I slip the other bracelet onto his wrist, fastening the clasp with a soft click. My thumb lingers, brushing over the metal before I look up again.

He’s watching it, watching me, really. His throat moves as he swallows, eyes flicking from the bracelet back to mine. There’s something in his gaze I can’t quite read...something thoughtful and quiet, but then it’s gone, replaced by that easy smile that makes everything else blur.

He picks up the other bracelet and swiftly fastens it around my wrist, his fingers brushing my skin. “Suits you,” he murmurs. That subtle smile of his widens a little. “Honestly, when we picked these, I was sure you’d think they were cheesy. Like those matching t-shirts we got.”

I huff a quiet laugh. “The shirts are definitely cheesy.”

“Oh? And these?”

I catch his hand before he pulls away again. His pulse is steady under my thumb. I bring his wrist closer, my lips brushing the cool metal. “These,” I murmur against it, “I like.”

He doesn’t say anything, just watches me. And for a second, the air between us shifts, the way it always does when everything slows down. There’s this strange kind of gravity in seeing the bracelets on both our wrists. It feels like something quietly certain. Like proof.

It’s stupid, but it almost feels like confirmation that he’s mine. That somehow, I’ve got this beautiful, stubborn, passionate man to myself. And the thought alone is enough to make my chest ache in the best way.

I’m still smiling when I look up. Xander chuckles, eyes narrowing. “You seem to be in a weirdly good mood.”

I shrug, fingers still tracing lazy circles against his wrist. “How could I not be? After the night I had?”

He scoffs, walking away to grab his shoes. “I hardly remember anything.”

“Admit it,” I call after him, “...you liked it.”

He doesn’t answer, just sits down...very gently, beside me...tugging on his sneakers.

“Feeling a little sore?” I ask, leaning closer.

He shoots me a flat look, gesturing to his shoes. “Say another word, and I’m throwing these at you.”

I can’t help the laugh that slips out. It’s low, genuine. And he’s right, I am in a good mood. I woke up with this weird, bubbling feeling in my chest. Not quite peace. Not quite excitement. Just.... lightness. Like things are finally, quietly aligning. I can’t even remember the last time I woke up feeling this way, like I could breathe without thinking about it.

He stands, brushing invisible lint from his jeans, and glances back at me once more. There’s sunlight spilling through the curtain, painting his skin in that soft, gold morning warmth, and for a heartbeat, I just sit there, watching him.

“I left out some sunscreen in the bathroom,” he says. “Put it on before you leave.”

I lean back on my forearms. “I don’t need it. I’m just checking the place out, not going to war.”

He gives a little shake of his head, that stubborn edge masking his features. “You’ll be out in that heat, Jax. You’ll burn to a fucking crisp. Just put it on, okay?”

There’s a softness in his voice that makes it impossible to argue. “Fine.”

“And ride carefully,” he adds. “That road’s far out and you’re not used to it yet. Just take your time. And call or text me when you get there, just so I know you arrived safely.”

“I will,” I say, but I think he’s only half-hearing me because he’s already moving to the next thing.

“And make sure you bring something to eat,” he goes on. “If there aren’t more thermal boxes, I’ll leave one behind. Layla and Addy can share....they always end up eating the food for breakfast anyway.”

His voice trails, half-focused, half-scattered. It’s that distracted kind of care that sneaks up on me, the kind that doesn’t demand attention but earns it anyway.

It hits me that I can’t remember the last time someone cared this much. Not out of obligation or habit, but just....because it’s me.

He finishes with the concerned instructions, finally looking at me and catching me staring. “What?” he asks. “You listening, or should I start over?”

“I’m listening,” I tell him. Then, quieter, “You know I’m not moving away to boarding school, right? I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Just humor me.”

I stand, stepping close enough that I can smell his clean, unique scent. My hand finds his collar, straightening it even though it doesn’t need it. “I’ll be careful,” I promise. “And I’ll eat something.” I pause, then add, “And I love you.”

His eyes soften at that. “I love you too.”

We share a quick kiss....just enough to linger, not enough to satisfy....and then he grabs his keys, slings his bag over his shoulder. I watch him walk toward the door. He glances back once, gives me that small, familiar smile. Then he’s gone.

And I just stand there for a moment, surrounded by the quiet he leaves behind, thinking how strange it is that a person can walk out the door and somehow still fill the whole room.