Mafia's Ex Wife

Chapter Twenty Six

Jax

"Jax..."

I already hate the tone Lizzie has as she whines my name. She's going to tell me to stop, I know she is.

"I can't do this." She whispers, tears welling in her eyes again.

Letting out a heavy, frustrated breath, I roll over to the side and sit up. Jesus Christ, this girl is a fucking roller coaster. I know I didn't imagine the way she kissed me back. Or the desperate flush in her cheeks. Or the needy, take me look in her eye. So why the fuck is she stopping me?

"Okay."

She reaches for my hand, biting her lip. "It's not because I don't want to, Jax. It's... I... I want to. I want to more than anything. But I'm still married. And as much of an asshole as he was tonight, Mike's generally a good guy and I don't want to do that to him. I don't want to be a cheater."

Damn her and her morals. I hate to admit that she's right, especially when my throbbing cock is nowhere near on the same page. I'll be taking a very cold shower when she finally goes home.

"Hey," she puts her palm to my cheek, turning me to face her. "I'm not saying we can't ever... I just... I need to figure out if I want to fix things with Mike."

"You're right." I clench my jaw. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed it."

She shakes her head. "I kissed you back, Jax."

Yeah, my blue balls are some pretty solid proof of that, sweet thing.

Fuck.

I know that she's right, but I hate that she is. I hate that she married that bastard. I hate that he goes next to bed next to her every night. I hate that he's raising my daughter. I hate myself for ever letting her go in the first place.

"You still shouldn't go home." I rake my fingers through my hair and Lizzie frowns up at me. "You've had a lot to drink and shouldn't be driving, and I'm sure as hell not sending you home in a Uber so you can stay here and I promise I'l keep my hands to myself."

"Thank you."

Lizzie does stay. I make us some popcorn and we argue over some stupid movie on Netflix, and I keep my word--at least until she falls asleep on the couch. Even when she's on my last nerve, I'm too much of a gentleman to let her sleep out here, so I scoop her up and put her in my bed. I highly doubt she'll be comfortable in her sweatshirt and jean shorts, but she's liable to cut my hand off if she catches me taking her clothes off, so I just cover her up instead.

I make myself a bed on the couch, and it's about as comfortable as a concrete slab, but I know I won't be sleeping away. Not when that luscious body I've craved for years is under the same roof as me. Not when the innocence and sincerity in her concern only makes me love her more. Not when I just learned that my fucking mother told Lizzie about the deal with Bruno and effectively ended my marriage and any chance I had at happiness four years ago.

The second Lizzie leaves here in the morning, I'm going to pay her a visit.

Despite all of that, I must fall asleep at some point, because I wake up to the sound of Lizzie's phone ringing on the kitchen island.

"Shit." She stumbles out of the bedroom, clutching her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was on."

"It's okay." I say, pouring her a glass of water and handing her some Advil.

"Thanks." Her brow furrows as she glances down at the phone in her hands. "Oh... it's..."

She doesn't finish the sentence before she answers the call.