Jax's Game: Book 1 of The Checkmate Series

Chapter 15

The two of them were outside the restaurant now, facing one another. The breeze hit her skin, making her shiver slightly.

"Here, take my jacket," Atticus said, shrugging off his suit jacket.

"No, it's all good, Atticus. My cab is almost here. Keep your jacket," she hummed. He sent her a smile, hand on her lower back once again. It felt good, like home, when it sat there.

Grinning at him widely, she got on her tippy toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. It felt right doing it, even if she just met him that day.

Atticus smiled, thanking her.

The Hackney Carriage pulled up at the restaurant. Atticus took a few steps towards the cab, opening the door for her. Her heart swooned from such a small gesture. She couldn't get over his gentlemanly mannerisms.

"Goodnight, Atticus. Thank you for the dinner and drinks. I'll see you tomorrow," she said to him, walking towards the car.

"My pleasure. Hope we are friends now, Harriet," he told her whole heartily as he placed his hand on her shoulder. He leaned down to her, kissing her cheek. "Goodnight, text me when you get home, please."

She nodded, getting in. Atticus closed the door, handing the driver some cash. With a final wave, he watched the car drive away.

Harriet had a new friend, and she was so pleased with how the night went.

Minutes later, the cab pulled up to the brick apartment. Cameron was back in Ukraine, so she had the studio apartment to herself. Harriet was so much happier now that she had her own space and time rather than living with other people.

Getting out, she thanked the driver and walked to the building.

"Harriet," she heard the deep voice. This couldn't be happening.

Turning around, she was met with Jax in all his glory. The stubble was long gone, all shaved off, and his hair was perfectly in its curls with no product. He had jeans and a t-shirt on with a light cardigan. Harriet spotted the black sports car behind him.

'Here comes a fight.'

"Hi," she muttered, stumbling on her feet as she went to the door, fishing out her keys.

"You're drunk," he flatly told her, hand clasping her hip as he helped her steady herself. She tried to shrug his grip off, but he held her tighter.

"So? You're not m'boss," she slurred, opening the door and walking to the stairs. Jax followed heavy footsteps echoing. "Just tipsy, Jax."

"Yes, I know, but you're coming home at one a.m., drunk in Downtown London. You're a woman too," he stressed, spitting each word.

"Don't tell me what to do. That I shouldn't drink because I come from a line of addicts, blah, blah, blah. Fuck off, Jax," she yelled, walking up the old wooden stairs to the second level.

Unlocking the door, Harriet went in and instantly began pulling her clothes off. Jax entered the flat.

"I told you to leave," she grumbled, going to the bathroom and taking off her makeup.

He leaned against the door frame. "You haven't answered my calls."

Furrowing her eyebrows, she looked at him. "Has it occurred to you that I don't want to talk?" she roughly grabbed her pajamas from the unmade bed. "Little privacy, please?"

"It's not like-"

"Jaxon!" He begrudgingly turned around as she changed quickly, bumping shoulders with his as she exited the bathroom into the studio apartment. "You need to leave. I need sleep because I have work tomorrow."