Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 74

He says it like forgetting to call your mom is the worst crime in his world. I watch him laugh at himself, shaking his head, and all I can think is how fucking simple it must be to live in his skin. No shadows snapping at his heels. No ghosts tugging at his ribs.

His regrets are light enough to joke about.

Mine are heavy enough to drown a city.

And that fear, the one that keeps sharpening its teeth in the dark corners of my chest, sinks in deeper. That I’ll stain him. That I’ll be the thing that drags all that golden light down into the mud with me. He deserves mornings without weight, conversations without the taste of darkness behind them. He deserves a life unmarked by my hands, but here I am anyway, selfish enough to want to hold on.

I want to believe I can touch something pure without breaking it. But looking at him now, so unscarred, so bright....it feels like I’m already pressing shadows into his light.

We shoulder through the crowd, and I take the turn I always do, heading for the stall with the neat rows of vegetables. Bright, glossy peppers, fat tomatoes that look like they’ll burst if you so much as breathe on them. The woman behind the table spots me and her face lights up like I’m some kind of regular she actually enjoys seeing. “Morning,” she says. “How’re you boys doing today?”

Before I can mumble something noncommittal, Xander beats me to it. “We’re great,” he says, warm, easy, like the words belong to him. His smile is quick, genuine. “Your stall looks incredible by the way...so vibrant. Did you grow all of these?”

Her cheeks pink a little, and she laughs like no one’s noticed her hard work in a while. “Oh, thank you. My husband and I, yes. We’ve got a small plot just outside town. Early mornings, late evenings....it’s a lot, but worth it.”

“That sounds amazing,” Xander says, leaning in a little like he actually cares. And hell, he does. He’s not faking it. His gaze skims over the display like he’s taking it all in...cabbages, bundles of herbs tied with twine, fucking zucchini stacked in pyramids. “And these all look better than the stuff I see in the stores. I'm sure you’ve got so many people stopping by.”

She beams and lifts her hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “Those are lovely,” Xander says, pointing lightly at the big, chunky rings on the lady's fingers, each one a little different “Can I see?”

She laughs again, holds her hand out like it’s nothing. He takes it gently, tilts her fingers toward the light. “ Wow, that’s beautiful craftsmanship. Did you get them from here?”

“My husband actually makes them,” she says proudly. “Keeps him busy when he’s not out in the fields.”

“No kidding. My sister’s into jewelry like this. Maybe I could get your number? Her birthday's coming up and it's always a challenge deciding on a gift.”

Her whole face lights up like he just gave her the best compliment she’s had in years. “Of course, sweetheart.” She digs out a scrap of paper, scribbles her number down, presses it into his hand. “ I’ll make sure you get a good deal.”

Xander thanks her with that same disarming smile.

I stand there, silent, watching him charm the shit out of a woman twice his age without even breaking a sweat. He doesn’t think twice about it....just steps into conversation, brightens someone’s day like it costs him nothing. He draws people to him like moths to a flame.

She asks if we're planning on making something today.

“You’ll have to ask my friend over here.” he says, tilting his head toward me.

Friend? My hand freezes over a basket of carrots. I glance at him, but he’s already watching me, waiting. Calm. Like he said it on purpose.

I finally decide on what I need. She bags them, then throws in a couple of extras she’s never bothered with before. When it was just me, she barely looked twice. Xander thanks her like she just saved his life. “We’ll put these to good use. Have a wonderful day.” she’s still grinning as we leave.

I toss him a sidelong look. “Friend?”

He shrugs, casual as hell. “Last time I asked you to be my boyfriend, you ghosted me. So… yeah. Friend seemed safer.”

I don’t dignify that with an answer. Instead, I veer us toward the spice stall. The girl behind it greets us with a lazy wave, all black lace, heavy eyeliner, a pentagram necklace that glints in the sun. She’s always dressed like she walked straight out of a goth catalogue. Sometimes it’s her, sometimes a woman I assume is her mum.

“Hey,” she says, voice flat but not unfriendly. I’ve already got my head down, scanning jars and packets, pulling what I need. Cinnamon sticks. Paprika. The usual. I don’t even have to think. Xander comments on her outfit and she perks up. By the time I’m done paying, the two of them are trading names like they’ve known each other thirty minutes instead of forty seconds.

“This is Jax,” Xander says, tossing my name out there like a frisbee.

The girl nods at me. “Nice to meet you.”

I pay and take my bag when she hands it over, then start moving before Xander can charm her into giving us her family recipes too.

As we walk away, he’s still smiling. “The people here are so nice.”

I glance at him. “You always been so…” I trail off, searching for the word.

“So what?” he sounds and looks genuinely curious.

I shrug. “Out there.”

He tilts his head, then gestures back toward the stall we just left. “Because I talked to those people?”

If only he knew. Two years of watching him from shadows he never even noticed and I know. That’s him....open, magnetic without trying. The kind of light people want to orbit.

“It’s not that hard,” he says with a little shrug. “People like compliments. It’s the best ice breaker. And why do you say it like it’s a bad thing?”

I don’t answer. It’s not bad. It’s just… not me. I’ve spent my whole life on the edges, avoiding conversations, avoiding people. It's easier that way. But with him, it’s like I’m being dragged center stage whether I like it or not. And maybe that’s the cost of being around him....learning to stomach the attention he pulls like gravity.

He smirks, eyes glinting as he looks me over. “What...did you want a compliment too?”

I just stare back, flat and unamused. He knows damn well I’m not one of those people he can charm with throwaway lines.

But then he leans in, close enough that his breath grazes my ear, voice a low, wicked murmur meant only for me.

“Your cock’s perfect....thick, long, just the right curve. Every time I hold it, I hate having to let go.”

My chest tightens, heat shooting straight through me, brutal and low. My knees damn near buckle, blood roaring south so fast it’s dizzying. My cock strains against denim, aching, desperate, and I’m left swallowing air like it might ground me. Xander smirks.... taunting and smug, then he says, “Add that to your ledger,” before strolling ahead like he didn’t just rewire my brain.