Until July
Page 8

I watch as he slips off his boots then slides onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard and crossing his ankles. I let out a breath and flipped on the TV, and Juice decides to come out of hiding, jumping up on the bed and climbing into my lap.
“Do you like cats?” I ask Wes while running my fingers through Juice’s soft fur.
His eyes come to me, and I see something flash within their green depths before he replies, “I love pussy.”
I start to giggle and bury my face in Juice’s fur. I hear Wes chuckle, and I shake my head and hand him the remote, not knowing what he likes to watch. “You can pick whatever,” I tell him, curling up on my side with Juice curled into my belly.
He flips through the channels for a few minutes then stops on the movie Back to the Future. He leans back farther, putting his hand behind his head and resting the one holding the remote on his abs. The urge to scoot closer to him is almost painful, but I keep myself still, making sure to keep my breathing normal.
“So…can we at least cuddle?” he asks, and I tilt my head back to look at him then without thinking I move Juice and scoot over to him, and his eyes get wide. He shakes his head and holds his arm up, and I lay my head on his chest. Both my hands pillow under my cheek while I pull my knees up, tucking them against his side.
“That was easy,” he mumbles, wrapping his arm around me.
What can I say? I’m a girl; I like to cuddle. And no one in their right mind would turn him down if he asked them.
“Babe.” I hear Wes say but I’m so comfy that I don’t want to open my eyes or move.
“Hmm?” I mumble.
“I gotta head out.”
“Later,” I mutter.
“Babe.”
“What?” I whine, and he starts to laugh.
“You gotta come lock up.”
“It’s fine. I don’t need to lock up,” I grumble.
“Baby.” I open one eye and look at him. “Come on.” He pulls me out of bed and sets me on my feet.
“I’m up.” I yawn, stumbling out of the room and to the front door. I open it for him while he goes to the kitchen, gets his cut, and slips it on over his shirt then comes toward me and I cover my mouth, making him smile.
“I stole a kiss while you were sleeping.”
“Liar.” I say as he stops in front of me.
“I told you I won’t kiss you until you beg me to.” I pull my hand away from my mouth, and bite my lip when my eyes drop to his mouth.
“Thanks for the pizza, Wes,” I tell him as my gaze travels back up to his.
“I’ll call you, baby.”
“Sure.” I nod, and he leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead that catches me off-guard.
“Lock the door,” he says over his shoulder, and I roll my eyes then open them wide when something I hadn’t even thought about clicks into place.
I have grown up around crazy-ass alpha men my whole life, men like my dad and uncles, and as I watch Wes walk to his bike, I know the kind of man he is.
“Babe, lock up,” he shouts, swinging onto his bike. I slam the door shut, lock both locks, go to the blinds, and peek out as he pulls away.
“What have I done?” I whisper as he drives out of sight.
Chapter 3
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask Jax as I open the front door.
“I need to use your shower.”
“Why?” I ask, seeing that he’s carrying a large bag in his hand.
“Water heater went out and I don’t have time to wait for the repair guy to come look at it before I have to be somewhere.”
“Oh, well you know where it is.” I swing my arm out for him to enter, and then I go to my kitchen and start a pot of coffee, set out food for Juice, and clean Taser’s cage. Once my coffee is done, I take my cup out to my back deck along with my Kindle and start to read.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I hear roared through the glass of my sliding door, and I get up, quickly setting my stuff on the table, slide the door open then make my way to my living room, where Wes is standing in the doorway with Jax, standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jax asks Wes instead of answering, and I step into the mix, push my cousin back, and stand in front of Wes.
“You go finish showering,” I tell Jax, shoving him away.
“Are you shitting me?” Wes snarls, and I wait glaring at Jax until I see him go back into the bathroom before I face him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask then look down and see that he’s juggling two cups of coffee and a bag, and my heart melts, because he brought me breakfast.
“What am I doing here? Are you fucking kidding me?” My head flies up and my eyes meet his. “I left you last night, and you already have Jax Mayson in your house, showering? Now you’re asking what I’m doing here?”
His words punch me in the gut as his eyes roam over me in my long shirt that hides the boxers I have on. He shakes his head and mutters, “Bitches,” as he walks off.
I stand there for a second as my stomach crawls up my throat, and watch as he opens the door to his truck. My mind is reeling from what he just said.
“You said his name’s Jax Mayson, right?” I shout, and he looks at me then shakes his head.
“Well, you fucking asshole, my name is July Mayson. He’s my cousin, and you’re a fucking scumbag,” I yell then slam the door shut and stomp down the hall to my bedroom, getting my scrubs on quickly, and then my shoes. I don’t even bother with makeup. I just tie my hair back into a ponytail, walk to the guest bath, and knock on the door, calling to Jax that I’m leaving and to lock up.
I grab my bag, stomp out to my garage, pull on my helmet, and shove my purse under the seat. I put on my helmet and press the remote for the garage. I get on my bike start it up then pull out of the garage, noticing that Wes is still sitting in my driveway. I close my garage, shove the remote in my pocket then flip him off while simultaneously trying to kill him with the lasers I can feel coming out of my eyes.
When I get to work, I look at my phone and see that Wes has called every few minutes since I left my house. I turn off the stupid thing and head to the building. The moment I get to the front door, I see a large black mass in front of the double doors and my heart instantly sinks, because I know exactly what it is. I have already had such a horrible day; this just makes it worse.
“Hey, guy,” I whisper, crouching down in front of the dog that is bleeding from his mouth and ears. His head barely lifts then drops to the ground again and his eyes close. I scoot closer and can see that his breaths are few and far between, and the blood coming from his nose tells me he’s not going to make it. I head around the back of the building, go through the back door, drop off my bag, and get a small stretcher. Carrying it out front, I carefully get him on it before taking him inside.