He saw through all of it, waited through all of it, and still, he looked at me like I was everything.
I hear his footsteps returning, and my heart races for an entirely different reason now. If I let myself have this—really have this—then there’s no going back.
28
JAXON
By the time I finish cleaning and making myself presentable, Madison has mostly finished packing—though, by mostly, I mean her clothes are at least in the bag, even if it's a chaotic mess of sweaters, leggings, and God knows what else.
I shake my head with a smirk and kneel next to her bed, helping her zip the overstuffed bag while she sighs dramatically. "I swear, I have no idea how I ended up with so much stuff for three days."
I grunt, tugging the zipper closed. "Because you pack like you're going on a month-long excursion instead of to Thanksgiving with my family, which is literally 45 minutes from here."
She nudges my shoulder, rolling her eyes. "It's called being prepared."
I grab her duffel, throwing it over my shoulder as she grabs her purse, and we head out to my truck. Before she can climb in, I catch her wrist gently, pulling her back. She looks up at me, confused, until I reach up and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. My fingers linger against her cheek for just a moment, my thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone. I lean in for one more kiss, pressing my lips to hers.
"Just wanted to do that before we get to my parents' and they start embarrassing us both," I murmur.
She blushes, ducking her head but leaning into my touch before I help her into the truck.
The drive starts out easy—Madison curled up in the passenger seat, her legs tucked beneath her, the radio playing low in the background—but I see the shift.
The way her fingers start fidgeting with the sleeves of her cardigan.
The way she chews on the inside of her cheek. I know she's nervous before she even asks the question I've been expecting.
"So…did you, uh…tell them?" she finally asks, voice hesitant.
I glance over, lifting a brow. "Tell them what?"
She shoots me a look. "That we're…you know."
A slow smirk pulls at my lips as I refocus on the road. "I mean, I may have mentioned it a couple times. And by 'may have mentioned,' I mean my mom has hounded me about it daily since she first suspected something was up."
She groans, sinking further into her seat. "Oh my God."
I chuckle, but when I steal another glance at her, I see the way her shoulders tense, the way she keeps adjusting her clothes and twisting her fingers, like she's trying to ground herself.
I don't like that. I don't like that she's worried—not here, not with me.
So, I take the next exit off the freeway and pull onto a quieter side road, slowing the truck to a stop on the shoulder.
Madison frowns, sitting up straighter. "Why are we stopping?"
I shift into park, letting out a slow breath before turning to face her fully. "Because I need you to hear me."
She blinks, brows furrowing. "Jax?—"
"Mads, in case it isn't already obvious, I'm not ashamed of bringing you home like this, not even a little." I reach for her hand, lacing my fingers through hers, grounding us both. "Truthfully, Mom has probably been praying for this day since we were kids. And if I'm being honest? My whole family has been waiting for it."
She swallows, her gaze flickering down to our joined hands, her fingers hesitating before she tightens them around mine.
"They love you, Mads."
And so do I.
The words nearly spill out right then, sitting heavy on my tongue, clawing their way up my throat like they've been waiting years to be said.
