Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 36

XANDER'S POV

The second the question leaves his mouth, I almost walk it back. And just like that, my instincts kick in—to deflect, dodge, pretend I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about. I can lie with a straight face, keep a cool head when I need to. But something about this moment makes me stop.

I look at him.

Really look.

And it’s stupid how easily it slips out. “Who was he?”

Jax doesn’t answer right away. I can practically see the wall going up behind his eyes, his posture shifting into that lazy, cocky stance he wears like armor.

“Was he your ex?” I push, because I’ve had days to think. To analyze everything, and I just need to know.

“Why does it matter?” he throws back with a half-shrug, tone light but sharp underneath.

I cut him off, more firmly this time. “Who. Was. He.”

There’s a beat of tension, like something stretches tight between us. Then he sighs and says, “Just some guy I met while working.”

I study his face. He’s guarded, but he’s not lying.

“And why was he so pissed off?” I ask, voice lower now. “What did you do to him?”

He scoffs, shifts on his feet. “We fucked a couple of times,” he says flatly. “He got ideas. Expectations I never gave him in the first place.”

The words hit exactly how I expected them to. Which doesn’t make them hurt any less. I nod slowly, biting the inside of my cheek. “Right.”

That’s all I needed to hear. Not because I was curious. Not because I was jealous. But because I needed confirmation. Proof that I’m not insane for feeling like I’ve been dancing on a trapdoor this whole time.

I exhale and meet his eyes again. “So that’s what you do? Is that what you’re doing with me?”

He doesn’t flinch, but I know he feels it. The directness. The question I’ve been building up to for days now.

“Invest all this time and attention,” I go on, keeping my voice steady, even if my pulse is anything but. “Pull someone in just so you can drop them once you’ve had your fill?”

His eyes narrow...again, no answer. Not right away.

“You always have something to say,” I mutter. “ So fucking answer me, Jax.”

He turns slightly, aimlessly tosses the coffee cup into the nearby dumpster. The clank of the cup against metal echoes louder than I expect. The alley is so damn quiet.

I run a hand through my hair, trying to cool the heat in my chest, but he speaks before I can pull myself all the way together.

“I’ve never been as invested in anyone as I am in you.”

I freeze.

His voice is low. Rough. Almost like it costs him something to admit it.

“I’ve never chased anyone like this,” he continues. “Never wanted to.”

And for a moment, my heart stumbles.

Because he means it.

I can feel it. I can hear it in his voice. And I hate that it gets to me. That it fucking matters. But I remind myself....it’s not a compliment. Not when the goal is still the same.

“You still just want to sleep with me,” I say quietly.

His eyes flare with something. “ Why're you—”

“You do,” I cut in. “That’s the endgame. That’s always the endgame with guys like you.”

He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t confirm it either. Just steps forward, eyes on me like he’s trying to burn a hole through my chest and see what’s underneath.

I step back before he can get too close.

“No,” I say, raising a hand between us. “You don’t get to do that. Not again.”

His jaw tightens.

I don’t know what I expected out of this. Closure, maybe. Or just the final nudge I needed to walk away for good. But now that I’ve heard it straight from him, about the way he moves through people like they’re chapters he doesn’t bother to reread...I feel clearer. More grounded.

“Xander—”

“I’m not gonna be another damn conquest on your timeline,” I say, voice steady. “And you’re not gonna be anything on mine.”

I don’t plan on saying anything more.

I already said too much. My jaw’s tight, I don’t look at him.

“I really hope this is the last time you pop up where I am. I don’t have the energy to keep doing whatever the fuck we were doing anymore. It’s messing with me.”

His dark gaze narrows...I recognize that look as intrigue.

“Messing with you how?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You say that, yeah. But I’m asking.”

I don’t answer. Just turn and start walking, slow at first. The air is crisp, but it burns against my skin anyway. I just want to go back to how it was before everything got this complicated. Before him.

Then his voice again, sharper this time.....

“Messes with you how, Xander?”

He says it like he doesn't want to ask but couldn’t help himself. And damn him—damn him for sounding unsure, like he’s never been uncertain a day in his life but somehow I made him feel that way.

I stop.

My spine stiffens. I stare at the ground for a second, a long one. Consider walking. Shutting up. Pretending I didn’t hear.

But the truth is...I’ve never been good at pretending. I like bluntness, I like saying things as they are. Probably why he pulled me in the way he did, coz he's so fucking unfiltered and I genuinely love it.

So I let the words leave my mouth, even if they gut me a little.

“I think...I think I’m starting to like you.”

It lands like a bomb.

No sound. No cars. No wind. Just the buzz of my pulse and the sudden, thick quiet that swallows the space between us whole. My hands clench, knuckles white.

I don’t expect a reply. Not really.

But I hear him take a breath, slow and careful. Then—

“Guessing by the way you just said that, you don’t mean ‘like’ as in, you enjoy my sparkling personality?”

That fucker.

I exhale a sharp breath. “No, Jax. I mean like you, like you. In the kind of way that makes everything worse.”

I turn then, because I have to look at him. Because I want to hate him for making me say that out loud and I want to memorize the way his face looks when he hears it. He’s standing there, hands in the pockets of his jacket, expression unreadable for once. Guarded.

“I hated not talking to you,” I admit. “I hated wondering if you were going to show up or just disappear for good. And I hated that part of me hoped you would.”

He runs a hand through his hair, eyes finally dropping from mine. “Well... fuck.”

Yeah....Exactly.