Lena's heart pounded as she hovered outside Jaxon's door. This was a bad idea. She should turn around and go back home, pretend she never saw the light coming from under his door. Pretend she hadn't just spent the last hour replaying his fight with his dad in her head.
But she didn't.
Instead, before she could overthink it, she raised her fist and knocked lightly.
Silence.
She bit her lip, hesitating. Maybe he had already gone to bed. Maybe this was a mistake. She was about to turn and walk away when the door cracked open.
Jaxon stood there, looking exhausted. His hair was messy, like he'd been running his hands through it, and there was something hollow in his eyes that made her chest tighten.
"Carter?" His voice was rough, quieter than usual.
Lena shifted awkwardly. "Hey. Uh... I justâ" She hesitated. "I saw your light on."
Jaxon leaned against the doorframe, watching her carefully. "And?"
She crossed her arms, suddenly second-guessing herself. "And... are you okay?"
Jaxon let out a small chuckle, but there was no amusement in it. "You're asking if I'm okay? That's new."
Lena swallowed. "I don't know, Jaxon. You just seemed... off earlier."
For a moment, he didn't say anything. Then, he stepped back, opening the door wider. "You wanna come in or just stand in the hallway all night?"
Lena hesitatedâthen, before she could stop herself, she stepped inside.
She had no idea what she was getting into.
But she was about to find out.
Jaxon's room was surprisingly cleanâminimal, even. A desk sat against one wall, a couple of framed photos and trophies lined a shelf, and his bed was neatly made.
Lena hovered awkwardly near the doorway as Jaxon shut the door behind her. "So... what's keeping you up?"
Jaxon ran a hand through his hair before leaning against his desk, arms crossed. "Take a wild guess."
Lena frowned. "Your dad?"
He let out a humorless laugh. "Bingo."
She hesitated before stepping further into the room. "What he said earlierâabout your future. Do you really not want any of it?"
Jaxon's jaw clenched. "I don't know. Maybe I did once. My dad did. He wanted it more than anything, but it never worked out for him. And now..." He exhaled sharply. "Now it's like he's trying to live his dream through me. And when everyone around you decides your life for you, at some point, you start wondering if any of it was ever your choice."
Lena nodded slowly. "That sounds exhausting."
"It is."
A silence stretched between them, heavy but not uncomfortable.
Then, before she could think too much about it, Lena moved toward him, sitting on the edge of his bed. She reached out, hesitating for only a second before resting a hand on his back. Her fingers traced slow, absentminded circles against the fabric of his hoodie, offering a comfort she wasn't even sure he'd accept.
But he didn't pull away.
"Have you ever just told him you don't want it?"
Jaxon scoffed. "Yeah, and I think he actually laughed. My dad doesn't do 'no' very well."
Lena studied him for a moment before softly saying, "Then maybe it's time you make him listen." Her fingers pressed a little more firmly against his back, offering silent reassurance. "But it has to be your dream, Jaxon. Not his."
He didn't respond right away.
Instead, he just sat there, the tension in his shoulders slowly unraveling under her touch.
Lena shifted closer. She wasn't sure what compelled her to do itâmaybe the weight of the moment, maybe the quiet vulnerability between themâbut before she could stop herself, her fingers trailed up, threading gently into the nape of his hair.
Jaxon stiffened for half a second, like he wasn't used to being touched like this. Then he let out a slow breath and leaned into her.
Neither of them spoke.
They just sat there, wrapped in the quiet, wrapped in each other.
Jaxon was the first to break the silence.
"Lena," he murmured, her name falling from his lips softer than she'd ever heard before.
Her heart stuttered at the way he said it. Like it meant something. Like she meant something.
She swallowed, her pulse racing. "Yeah?"
Jaxon turned slightly, his face inches from hers now. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes searched hers, as if waiting for somethingâpermission, maybe. An excuse to pull away. Or an excuse not to.
Lena could feel her breath catching in her throat. She knew what was happening. She should stop it. She should pull away.
But she didn't.
Instead, she whispered, "Tell me this isn't a mistake."
Jaxon didn't answer right away. Instead, his fingers found the hem of her sleeve, brushing lightly against her wrist before he let his hand settle there, his thumb tracing small circles. The air between them felt charged, humming with something inevitable.
Jaxon's gaze dropped to her lips before flicking back to her eyes, something in him shifting. "You could never be a mistake." His voice was quiet, certain. "Not to me. Not for a second."
And then he kissed her.