Beautifully Shattered (The Beautifully Series Book 1) (30 page)

This is not good. Jax
chuckles. Does he have a death wish? I seriously think there’s
something wrong with him.

“Ads is just mad
because she shattered the screen on her phone last night and blames
me instead of her two left feet.”

They both turn towards
me. I open my mouth to tell him off, but stop. He wins, I can’t
yell at him because if I do, then Logan will know something is up.
After a few more choice words, I follow behind my brother and sit in
the middle of the taxi.

“Nice save,” I
whisper to Jax.

He nods but doesn’t
say anything. Maybe he’s back to ignoring me? I would ignore me,
too. When the cab takes off, my eyes drift shut. I feel my body being
moved, but I can’t open them to see why. I feel protected. I rest
my head on something hard and welcome the pleasant woodsy scent.

I count to five slowly,
hoping that I’m dreaming, but I know I’m not. I’m not that
imaginative, I can’t dream up Jax’s scent. I’ve tried and
failed. As soon as I breathe in his scent again, my brain wakes up
from its drunken slumber to let me know I’m in Jax’s arms. I open
my eyes and I’m met with the most beautiful green eyes in the
world. Just being this close to him makes me moan in pleasure. His
jaw tightens.

I hear the distant
click of my door unlocking and become instantly aware of my
surroundings. Logan attempts to hold the door open, but settles for
leaning against the doorframe for support. I’m not surprised by my
brother’s drunken state. He shouldn’t have done those shots with
Connor. Logan barely makes it to the couch before passing out. Guess
he’ll be sleeping here tonight.

I am surprised how
sober Jax appears, though. When we reach my bedroom, I struggle out
of his arms, wanting to be as far away as possible from The God, but
he grips me closer to his chest. I want to stay here forever wrapped
in his arms. But reality is a bitch and this isn’t a dream. I don’t
belong in the safety of his arms.

“Put me down,” I
demand quietly.

Ignoring my protest, he
continues to carry me.

“Jax, please, I just
want to go to bed. You’re going the wrong way.”

He flips on the light
to my bathroom. I squeeze my eyes closed and bury my face deeper into
his warm chest. That was bright. He finally lets me go and deposits
me on the counter. I watch him make himself at home in my bathroom.
He squeezes toothpaste on my toothbrush, runs it under the sink, and
holds it in front of my mouth.

To my shock he says,
“Open.”

I’m too stunned to do
anything but obey. His complete focus is on my mouth. I sit immobile
while he brushes my teeth. I’m so entranced as he takes care of me
that I barley notice that he’s stopped brushing my teeth.

He points my toothbrush
towards the sink, humor evident in his eyes. “Spit.”

I want to spit in his
face, but I of course I do what I’m told. He rinses off my
toothbrush when he’s finished, then puts it back in its rightful
place. He grabs my make-up removal cloths next. I put my hand up to
stop him.

“I’m capable of
doing this myself, Jax.”

He swats my hand away,
takes my chin in his huge strong hand and starts wiping off my
make-up. “I never said you weren’t,” he says once he’s done.

Thanking him, I slide
off the counter but he moves too fast and suddenly I’m in his arms
again. I sigh dramatically, trying to pull off the “I’m annoyed
sigh” but it comes off more as a moan than anything else. Lovely.

“Just so you’re
aware, I can actually use these to walk.” I kick my legs to prove
my point.

He chuckles as he nears
my bed. I think he’s going to set me down and leave, but nope, that
would be too kind of him. Instead he drops me on my bed. Roughly.

“Ouch,” I say in
mock anger.

He laughs as he strides
to my dresser to get me something to sleep in. If I wasn’t fully
aware that my brother is in the living room I would taunt him by
stripping, but instead I settle for studying him. He wears a smug
grin when he gives me a jersey. I don’t even need to see it to
confirm it’s one of his. Wanting to get rid of his stupid smile, I
stand up and turn away from him. I’m done being waited on.

Glancing over my
shoulder at him I ask in a sultry voice, “Get the zipper?”

His Adam’s apple
bobbles up and down a few times before he reaches out slowly to unzip
my dress.

“Thanks,” I
whisper.

I saunter into my
closet with the jersey in hand. I strip out of my dress, unhook my
strapless bra, and slide a long shirt off the hanger. Once I’m
dressed, I throw his jersey into my hamper before rejoining Jax in my
bedroom. When I say walk I mean stumble since I’m still drunk. When
I finally reach my bed that I swear has moved, it dawns on me that I
didn’t grab boy shorts to sleep in. Awesome. I start to stand, but
the stupid floor starts to move. What the heck is that about? Jax
steadies me and bends down so his face is lined with mine.

“Get into bed before
you hurt yourself, Ads.”

I close my eyes to
prepare myself for what I’m going to say next. He couldn’t have
just left me to fend for myself, could he? No, of course not. Jax
lives to confuse the crap out of me.

I whisper, “I’m not
wearing any panties . . . can you help me to my dresser so I can grab
some boy shorts please?”

He sucks in a breath.
He clenches his jaw so tight I’m sure it’s about to break, and he
runs a hand over his face. His eyes darken. At first I think he’s
turned on, but that changes when I notice how pissed off he is. Why
is he mad? He’s the one that wouldn’t let me get up.

Without a word he spins
on his heels, makes his way to my dresser and grabs the first thing
he sees. He tosses it over his shoulder and surprise, surprise, the
boy shorts land right next to me. Ugh, why is he good at everything
without even trying? I yank them on. I open my mouth to thank him but
he’s already gone. Shocker.

I shake my head,
annoyed. I clamp my hands over my mouth and take slow deep breaths,
willing myself not to throw up. When the wave of nausea subsides, I
lay down in bed. I don’t even bother huddling underneath the
blankets. I’m way too tired. I close my eyes and pass out.

I finally start at
Malcara Enterprises today. I’m buzzing with excitement. Yesterday I
may or may not have gone a little overboard in the shopping
department for new work clothes. I’m a girl, what can you expect?

After I style my hair
into a side bun, I put on a light shade of shimmery grey eyeshadow to
make my violet eyes pop, a little eyeliner and mascara to finish it
off. I select a light shade of pink lipstick. Bam, my face and hair
are done in a matter of minutes.

I step into my Derek
Lam fitted silver dress. It’s chic and business in one, perfect for
my first day! I forgo jewelry and slip into my Michael Kors suede
booties. Gripping my red Valentino tote bag, I rush to the kitchen to
snag a breakfast bar and a water. Stuffing both in my bag, I dash out
of my apartment.

My morning is full of
playing catch-up. Which is perfect for me. I’m a fantastic
multitasker. I’m given no direction, well not if you count “here’s
all the papers that need to be dealt with.” My boss did add that I
can ask questions if I have any, but me being stubborn, I chose to
ignore that last part and figure everything out on my own. I’m
almost done with everything when Tinkerbell strolls out of her office
towards me. I smile warmly at her.

“Lunch is in about
thirty. I have the perfect place for us to go,” she says as she
continues on her way.

My mouth drops open in
surprise. I thought she was going to ask me to do something for her,
not invite me to lunch. Well, demand is more like it. I see her smack
her hand over her face before she stops and turns around with a
guilty expression on her face. I raise an eyebrow in question.

“I’m so sorry. You
probably already have plans . . . I just thought since you’re new
and everything.”

I laugh at how quickly
she can switch from commanding to uncertain. Tinkerbell to the core,
I swear!

“That sounds great.
Just come get me when you’re ready to go to lunch, Ms. Harrison.”
I use her last name because I don’t want to sound unprofessional.

The look of horror that
washes over her face tells me before she says anything that I should
have gone with her first name.

“No need for last
names with me. Call me Harper. Never Ms. Harrison.”

Harper takes me to a
little hole in the wall diner that I would have never known was here
without her. Once we open the heavy wood door, I fall in love
immediately. There’s a homey vibe to this little Mexican place. We
grab the only table available, and both order water, mine with ice,
hers without. Our server brings chips and salsa and takes our orders.

After eating a chip
Harper asks, “How do you like Malcara so far?”

I tell her all about my
first day, and how much I like it. “Ask again at the end of the
week, though.”

She laughs at my joke.
After the server delivers our meals, I moan when I take the first
bite of the burrito. Holy crap! Tinkerbell gives me a knowing look.

“Best Mexican around.
Told you.”

We launch into girly
topics after a few bites and I learn that she may beat me on the
whole over-spending gene by a landslide. She loves clothes more than
me and that’s saying something. I love that she doesn’t bring up
any family questions so I skip over those, too. However, I do ask
where she’s from, I mean the woman does have a southern accent.

Laughing she says, “I’m
from Alabama. I’m surprised it took you this long to ask. It’s
usually the first thing somebody asks me.”

We argue over the bill,
but she’s quicker than I am.

“It’s your first
day. Besides, you can get the next one.”

I smile, realizing that
I’ve just made my first friend since high school. I think this is
bigger news than my job. I can’t wait to tell Liv at therapy today.

After we get back to
work, I don’t see Harper until we’re leaving for the day because
she’s been stuck in meetings. I finish closing up my computer
files, stand up, and collect my things. I say a quick goodbye to my
boss, William.

“Have a good night,
Adalynn. You did a great job today. Oh and before I forget, whenever
you make travel arrangements for me please email a copy to my wife or
she’ll kill me.”

“Of course, William,
goodnight.”

I close the door, happy
that I have an amazing boss that is so devoted to his wife. He is a
firm believer on not pulling all-nighters at the office just so he
can get back in time for dinner. It’s refreshing to know that
actual people work here and not robots.

Harper follows me into
the elevator and we make small talk about our plans for the weekend
while we ride down to the lobby. Apparently we’re having a girls’
night. I’m excited and a little nervous; the only girls’ night
that I know of are what I see in movies. Hopefully it’s not full of
drunken one night stands, because that is so not what I’m about.

“We’ll only be
drinking. Promise,” she reassures me when she sees my expression.

“In that case, then I
can’t wait.”

Liv’s receptionist
gives me a quick wave as I enter the waiting area and directs me into
the office. Liv is already in her chair, ready to start today’s
session. I sit down in a huff, dropping my purse on the floor while I
apologize for being late.

“How was work?”

As much as I didn’t
want the job before, I’m glad that I felt my brother pushing me in
this direction. The only downside of being a career woman is this
sensation that I’m missing something, I can’t shake it. I want to
tell Liv this, but I hold my tongue. I have a sinking feeling that I
know what I really want to do, but I’m not ready to face that
obstacle yet. So instead, I tell her the truth about my day but omit
what’s on my mind.

“It was fantastic, I
was so busy! If I wasn’t doing a million things at my computer, I
was running around the office. Plus my boss is really nice. Oh and I
made a friend, she reminds me of Tinkerbell.”

“Your co-worker
reminds you of a Disney fairy?”

I nod. “With a
southern accent too. Her name is Harper. She’s crazy and you would
love her.”

We talk about the
changes in my life for twenty minutes. I think we’re just gonna
keep it light today, but she drops her famous bomb like always,
catching me by surprise.

“With all of these
changes, new job, new friends, and getting back into old stuff like
photography, have you thought about getting in the pool again?”

I twirl my thumbs back
and forth. Ironically, it’s a calming gesture I picked up in
swimming.

“No,” I say in a
way that hopefully stops her from pushing, but I know she will. She
always does.