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Dinner with Jaxon
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Riley's POVThe moment Sheffield spotted Jaxon and me, his face lit up like a bright traffic sign, his pearly white smile making him look even more insufferably smug. But what caught me off guard was how his expression softened—brightened, even—when his gaze landed on me. I wouldn't be surprised if he still had memories of our very brief time together when Jaxon had given me up to him.As he walked towards us, I silently prayed he would just give us a short greeting then find his way to another table. But judging from the look in his eyes, I knew it was impossible.“Well, well, if it isn’t Jaxon Steele,” Sheffield announced, his voice carrying through the restaurant with practiced ease. “And you brought company. What a surprise!” I glanced at Jaxon, silently pleading for him to deflect Sheffield’s attention, but the slight smirk tugging at the corners of Jaxon’s mouth told me he wasn’t going to. Sheffield turned to a nearby waiter and said, “Move us to a bigger table. My treat. We
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Jaxon’s POVThe cool night air greeted us as we stepped out of the restaurant. Sheffield’s laughter echoed behind me as Riley walked beside me, his pace brisk, his shoulders stiff. I glanced at him, but his expression was unreadable, his lips pressed into a thin line. I couldn’t stop replaying the moment from dinner when Riley had told Ryan that Eric was just a friend. A friend.That single word lodged itself in my mind like a splinter. It didn’t add up. The way Riley had been looking at his phone, the brief flush on his cheeks—those weren’t the reactions of someone casually texting a friend. But maybe... just maybe, things between Riley and Eric weren’t as serious as I’d thought. The corner of my mouth lifted in a smug smile. If I played my cards right, this would work in my favor. We reached the parking lot, and I gestured toward Sheffield’s car parked at the far end. “We’ll walk you to your car,” I said, my tone neutral. Sheffield beamed. “Such a gentleman, Jaxon. Alw
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Riley’s POVAs the car drove away from the restaurant, leaving Sheffield and his bizarre sugar baby Ryan behind, I leaned back against the seat, relief washing over me. The night had taken a turn I hadn’t expected, but I couldn’t help but feel proud of myself for managing to escape the madness. There was no way I would have survived a night at Sheffield’s house, especially with the kind of "fun" he had in mind. The very thought made my skin crawl. Running away had been impulsive, but as I caught a glimpse of Jaxon’s rare, unguarded smile in the dim light of the car, I knew it had been worth it. “That was quick thinking back there,” Jaxon said, breaking the silence. His voice was softer than usual, almost warm. “I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so... spontaneous with me before.” I raised an eyebrow, amused. “Never?” “Not since I was a teenager,” he admitted, his tone carrying a hint of nostalgia. The compliment caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but feel a
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Riley’s POVThe car hummed softly beneath us as we drove through the quiet streets of the city. I stared out the window, watching the neon lights blur into streaks against the darkened sky. Jaxon sat beside me, his usual poised demeanor unshaken, but I could feel the tension in the air. It wasn’t the same tension that made my skin crawl whenever Jaxon played his manipulative games. No, this was different. There was a lingering energy between us, a ripple from the night’s earlier events—running from Sheffield, the roadside food stand, Jaxon’s rare moments of humanity. But that wasn’t what was on my mind. Something else had clawed its way to the forefront. “You know,” I started, breaking the silence. “Back at the restaurant, you mentioned something about a cooking challenge.” Jaxon glanced at me, one brow arching slightly. “I did.” “And you insinuated I couldn’t cook,” I continued, my tone sharpening. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “I merely questioned yo
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Jaxon’s POVI dug my fingers into Riley’s hair, savoring the soft strands slipping through my fingers as I deepened the kiss. His lips were warm and tentative, and for a brief moment, I thought I had him. .But just as I was about to take things further, Riley’s hands gently pushed against my chest. “Stop,” he murmured, pulling back. His breath fell against my lips, his voice steady but firm. My eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of us. The air between us was charged, thick with unspoken words and the kind of tension that set my skin on fire. “I’m not comfortable doing this here,” Riley said, his voice quieter now but no less resolute. “Not in the car. Not with your driver right there where he can see and hear everything.” I blinked, surprised. It hadn’t even occurred to me that the driver’s presence might bother him. “You’re worried about the driver?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. “Riley, I couldn’t care less if we have an audience.”
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Riley’s POVThe kitchen smelled like heaven. Steam rose from the dishes I’d prepared, carrying the aroma of garlic, herbs, and butter. Despite Jaxon’s constant attempts to distract me, I had managed to finish the meal. But I was exhausted—not from cooking, but from the unrelenting energy of the man watching my every move. “You’re still hovering,” I said, glancing at him as I wiped my hands on a towel. Jaxon was positioned on one of the stools at the kitchen island, his arms folded as he leaned back, looking like he owned the world. Which, technically, he did. The dim lighting of the kitchen caught the sharp angles of his face, making him look even more devilishly handsome. His eyes were locked on me, and I could tell he was planning his next move. “Just enjoying the view,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the plates, intent on ignoring him. “If you’re done being a creep, go set the table. Dinner’s ready.” “Me?” He raised an eyebrow,
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Riley’s POVThe tension in the office was palpable as Jaxon’s father stormed out of his son’s office. His face was a mask of rage, his lips pressed into a tight line, and his entourage followed him like shadows, their polished shoes clicking against the tiled floor. I stood frozen by my desk, my heart racing. What had happened in there? It looked like they had just had a very heated exchange and judging from the expression on Arthur's face, I think it's safe to say he lost.I glanced toward Jaxon’s office, half expecting to see him emerge looking triumphant or defeated. But the glass walls revealed nothing except the faint reflection of my curious coworkers whispering among themselves. “Wow,” Chloe murmured from her desk beside mine, leaning closer. “Did you see that? The way he walked out… It’s like he wanted the whole world to know how mad he is. Something’s definitely not right between those two.” I hesitated. Chloe’s knack for digging into drama was almost legendary, but
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Jaxon’s POVThe air in my office was thick, suffocating, as my father lowered himself into one of the sleek leather chairs in front of my desk. His every movement was deliberate, his demeanor a blend of calculated calm and unrelenting authority. I could see it in his sharp gray eyes—the storm brewing just beneath the surface. A small, mocking laugh escaped his lips before he looked at me, his piercing eyes boring into my skin. I could tell instantly he wasn't just angry, he was furious."You have got to be kidding me" He said after being quiet for what felt like forever.I raised an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued by his words which seemed alien to me. I wanted to understand what he meant by such things he said, but nothing came to mind."What exactly are you going on about?" I asked. "Do you want to say another derogatory thing about my staff or is there something else wrong I have done that you would happily like to point out?"I remained standing behind my desk, my fingers grippin
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Riley’s POVThe morning sun filtered through the glass windows of Jaxon’s mansion as Alexis and I walked out together, the silence between us feeling both heavy and uncertain. My footsteps were slow, hesitant, as if part of me wanted to linger, to listen to the muffled voices I could still faintly hear from the house. The argument between Jaxon and his father had been intense, their voices cutting through the grandeur of the mansion like glass. I couldn’t shake the discomfort I felt. Seeing Jaxon like that—his usual air of control completely unraveled—was unsettling. The man I had thought was untouchable, impervious to weakness, had looked so vulnerable, so human. Alexis led the way, her heels clicking against the smooth driveway. The crisp morning air did little to ease the tension knotted in my chest. “Are you okay?” she asked, glancing back at me. I nodded stiffly, though the truth was far from it. “Yeah, I’m fine.” “You don’t look fine,” she said, her voice soft but p
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Riley’s POVThe warmth of the bed should have been comforting, but the moment I opened my eyes, the silence of Jaxon’s bedroom wrapped around me like a cold sheet. I blinked against the dim morning light filtering through the heavy curtains, realizing I was alone. For a second, I thought he might be in the adjoining bathroom, but there was no sound of running water or the hum of his deep voice humming to himself, as I imagined he might. Sitting up, I ran a hand through my hair, trying to piece together the events of last night. My gaze wandered across the room, taking in the exquisite decor again—the soft gray tones of the walls, the sleek modern furniture, the luxurious rug beneath my feet. But Jaxon was nowhere to be found. I reached for my phone on the nightstand, its screen lighting up with several missed notifications. My stomach tightened as I saw Eric’s name pop up repeatedly. "Riley, are you okay?""Why aren’t you answering me?""Seriously, you’re worrying me. Text
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Jaxon’s POVThe way Riley stood in the kitchen, stubbornly holding his ground against my advances, was maddeningly arousing. Every time I thought I’d gained the upper hand, he found a way to turn the tables, leaving me both frustrated and intrigued. But when he’d laid down his condition—being “in charge”—I hadn’t been able to resist agreeing. The fire in his eyes was worth the challenge. “Come with me,” I said, my voice dropping to a tone I knew he couldn’t ignore. He hesitated for a moment, his lips twitching like he was considering some snarky remark, but instead, he nodded. "Where are we going?" He asked, curiousness etched on his face."Somewhere we can get more comfortable" I replied.I turned and led the way out of the kitchen, aware of his footsteps trailing behind me. The path to my bedroom was silent, save for the soft hum of the estate’s hidden lighting. Riley didn’t say a word, but I could feel his curiosity building. When I opened the double doors to my room and
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Riley’s POVThe kitchen smelled like heaven. Steam rose from the dishes I’d prepared, carrying the aroma of garlic, herbs, and butter. Despite Jaxon’s constant attempts to distract me, I had managed to finish the meal. But I was exhausted—not from cooking, but from the unrelenting energy of the man watching my every move. “You’re still hovering,” I said, glancing at him as I wiped my hands on a towel. Jaxon was positioned on one of the stools at the kitchen island, his arms folded as he leaned back, looking like he owned the world. Which, technically, he did. The dim lighting of the kitchen caught the sharp angles of his face, making him look even more devilishly handsome. His eyes were locked on me, and I could tell he was planning his next move. “Just enjoying the view,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the plates, intent on ignoring him. “If you’re done being a creep, go set the table. Dinner’s ready.” “Me?” He raised an eyebrow,
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Jaxon’s POVThe rich clink of glass echoed in the kitchen as I pulled out a bottle of wine from the rack hidden within the oak cabinet.Not just any bottle, of course—this was the wine, the same vintage Riley had ordered at the restaurant not long ago. Back then, he’d savored every drop, his eyes lighting up with an appreciation that was rare to see. I had made a mental note of that moment, and now, it felt like the perfect time to revisit it. “Recognize this?” I asked, holding up the sleek, dark bottle. Riley glanced up from the vegetables he was chopping, his brow furrowing before his gaze landed on the label. His eyes widened, and he straightened, wiping his hands on a towel. “Wait. Is that... the wine from the restaurant?” I smirked, pleased by his reaction. “It is. And,” I said, opening the cabinet door wider, revealing the neatly arranged row of identical bottles, “I’ve got twelve more where this came from.” “Twelve?” Riley’s voice pitched higher in disbelief. He wal
