Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 237

XANDER'S POV

I close the door behind me, it's dim except for the muted light leaking in through the blinds. I drop my protein shake and headphones on the table, roll my shoulders, and pull my shirt off as I head toward the bedroom. My skin’s still warm from the gym, the salt of sweat drying fast. I’m thinking about a shower, about hopefully catching Jax sleeping....but then I step inside and see him sitting up.

He’s propped against the headboard, phone loose in his hand, thumb hovering like he’s not really looking at it. When he glances up, his eyes catch the light....still tired, but softer somehow.

“You should be resting,” I say, tossing my t-shirt into the laundry basket. “That’s the whole point of a day off.”

He smirks faintly, voice low. “I am.” Then, without looking away, “Come here.”

Something in his tone makes me pause. I turn toward him. He looks worn, but more present than yesterday. Albert had given him a few days off, insisted Jax rest. And it made me realize how serious it had to be if he was being forcibly asked to stay home. I cross the room, plant a knee on the mattress, and reach out. My fingers slide into his hair.

He catches my wrist and pulls, guiding me closer until I’m straddling him. His palm drifts up my back before stopping at my neck. He holds me there firmly forms second, then pulls me down.

The kiss is deep, hungry in a quiet way....less about lust, more about needing something real to hold onto. His mouth moves against mine like he’s relearning the shape of comfort, and I let him. Let myself sink into it. When we break apart, I’m breathing harder than I should be.

“I’m all sweaty,” I murmur, my forehead brushing his.

“I like you all sweaty,” he says against my jaw, voice rough and warm at once. I pull back a little, studying him. His gaze is thoughtful. “We’ve got that viewing at two,” I remind him.

He nods. “Haven’t forgotten.”

“I’ve got a home call right before, but I'm sure I’ll make it in time.” I hesitate, then add softly, “Don’t miss your session.”

He exhales, looking away. “I won’t.”

Something about the way he says it makes it clear he's really not vibing with the therapy anymore. He’s tracing lazy circles down my chest now, fingers barely there. Then he says, quiet but insistent, “Call in late today.”

I laugh under my breath, more to steady myself than anything. “I’m kinda the boss now, remember? I can’t exactly do that.”

He lifts his eyes to me, that half-smile ghosting across his face. “That’s even better. You can do whatever you want.” His voice dips lower, words brushing against my skin as he kisses along my jaw. “Take the day off. Stay home with me.”

I suck in a breath, eyes falling shut for a second. It’s hard not to melt into him. Hard not to just give in. I cup his face, tilt it up so he’s looking at me again. “It’s a really tempting offer,” I say quietly. “But I can’t.”

He leans back, head resting against the headboard, the faintest shadow crossing his features. “Yeah,” he says after a moment, voice small. “I know.”

I can’t help it....I reach out, run my thumb over his jaw. He grips my thighs instead, his voice is lower now, like he’s confessing something. “I know I’ve been off lately,” he says. “Difficult to deal with.”

I swallow, something tightening in my chest. “Jax....” I shake my head. “You’re working through some shit. It’s okay. I get it.”

He drops his gaze, shoulders curling in slightly. The silence stretches between us, full of all the things he won’t say. Then he sighs, like the weight of it might tear him open if he’s not careful.

I frown, leaning closer. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

He looks up at me and smiles, and for a second, the world stills. I can’t remember the last time I saw that. A real smile, not the tight half-curve he gives when he’s pretending to be fine. This one’s softer, smaller, but it reaches his eyes just enough to make something inside me twist. It hurts to realize how long it’s been.

He shakes his head a little, eyes dropping. “Nothing’s wrong,” he assures me, quiet. “It’s just....me and Albert went over to drop some things at his friend’s restaurant the other day.” His voice is rough, like he’s sorting through thoughts as he speaks. “He’s apparently retiring and moving away. Throwing some huge party before he does.”

I frown, not sure where this is heading. “Okay....” I say slowly. “And?”

He just shrugs, gaze drifting somewhere past me. “It’s nothing. Never mind.”

“Jax.”

He looks up, but only for a second.

“Come on,” I softly urge. “Tell me.”

He exhales through his nose, fingers brushing over my thigh like he’s trying to work up the courage. “It just.... kind of got me thinking.”

“About what?”

He hesitates. I can see it in the way his throat moves, how his eyes flicker before finding mine again. “My life,” he says finally. “The future.”

There’s something careful in his tone, like every word is walking a thin line between confession and retreat. Then, after a long pause, he adds, “It was a really nice location, and he, uh....” His voice falters. “He's planning on putting the place up for sale.”

My heart tightens, because I hear it, that quiet crack underneath his calm. The uncertainty. The almost-shy hope. He says it like he’s testing the waters, like he’s not sure if it’s okay to want something for himself.

He shakes his head again, almost immediately. “It just had me thinking, that’s all.”

I shift closer, wrapping my arms around his neck. He looks at me like he’s still halfway lost in thought.

“Are they closed yet?” I murmur, brushing my thumb along his jaw.

He blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

“The restaurant,” I say. “They already closed?”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

I lean in until our foreheads almost touch. “Then we should make a reservation,” I tell him. “For tonight.”

His brows lift slightly and he shakes his head “Xander–”

“What?” I cut in gently, “You said it’s a nice place, right? I wanna see it for myself.”

He looks at me for a long beat, like he’s trying to find the right words and keeps losing them halfway through. Then quietly, he says, “I’m in no position to...”

He stops.

I tilt my head, watching him. “To what?”

His gaze flicks up to mine, then away again. “To take on something like that.”

“Why not?”

He gives me that look, the one that says *you know why not.* Then, after a moment, he says, “For a lot of reasons. I can't just wake up one day and decide to....”

He cuts himself off again. The words hang there between us, incomplete. And I hate it, hate how he always stops short of saying what he wants, like even the thought of wanting something good is too much for him.

I exhale, slow and heavy, then pull back and slide off him, standing beside the bed. My hands find my hips as I look down at him. “You need to stop doing that,” I tell him.

He looks up. “Doing what?”

“Overthinking. Hesitating.” I lean closer, my voice low but steady. “You wanted me, remember? Sure, it was mostly because you wanted to fuck me, but you didn’t talk yourself out of it. You went after me. You made it damn clear what you wanted. You pestered me until I gave in.”

His mouth tugs slightly, like he’s not sure if he should smile or argue. I hold his gaze. “So maybe try channeling some of that into other shit.”

He arches a brow. “My desire to fuck you?”

I can’t help the faint smile that pulls at my lips. “Sure,” I say, shrugging lightly. “Worked out pretty well for you last time.”