When Wes lifted the ice, she sucked a breath through her teeth.
“This I’m not so sure about,” she said. “You could have a broken something in there somewhere.”
“Don’t quit your day job, Lex.”
She flashed a grin. But it melted away quickly, and her gaze went distant and worried as she continued to clean his wounds. “It’s no secret that Rubi’s father wasn’t much of a father. And you know she never had a mother—at least not one she remembers.”
“But neither did you, from what I’ve heard.”
“It’s true that I didn’t have a father and my mother was an alcoholic, but the kind of neglect I suffered was different from Rubi’s. I had a little brother to take care of, and I had to mother my own mom when she was drunk. I was responsible for my family, which made me grow up very fast. Rubi grew up fast in an entirely different way. She didn’t have anyone who cared about her and no one to care for. I was rarely alone, where Rubi was always alone. And, honestly, we both have similar issues when it comes to commitment.”
Neglect.
That term hit Wes square in the forehead, confusing him. When Rubi spoke of her childhood it was in wild stories of how she’d abused the freedom every kid wishes they had, not of being alone. And she’d certainly had every material desire. Not the standard someone thought of as neglect.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “You and Jax are always together unless you’re working. He’s never been happier. What kind of commitment issues could there be?”
She lifted her brows with a smirk. “He hasn’t been bitching about the house situation?”
“I thought you two just hadn’t found the right fit yet.”
Lexi mopped up more blood. “He’s a prince. Finding the right fit isn’t really the problem. I am.” She sat back appraising his face, then going back to work on his temple. “Part of my issues stem from growing up poor. So poor, some days we didn’t eat. When we did, I saved most of my food for my brother. My childhood was spent in survival mode. I lived from one crisis to the next. That life was imbedded into me for sixteen long years before I left. Then I was on my own—too young.
“That all makes me incredibly…miserly. My bank account may tell me I can afford an apartment, but my subconscious says no way.” She waved toward the loft above the main salon where she’d lived for years before Jax. “My subconscious says this is all I can afford because I never know where the next meal is coming from. Or the next rent payment. Or the next client. Every financial decision I make is excruciating. And no matter how much therapy I get, no matter how much my life has changed or how many zeros show behind the number in my bank account, there will always be a part of that kid inside me subconsciously living in a constant state of lack.”
Wes’s chest had grown tight. His mind flashed between images of this beautiful, sweet, accomplished version of Lexi and a frightened little girl taking care of a drunk mother and young brother.
“So,” she said, “when Jax keeps taking me to these million-dollar homes…”
“It freaks you out.”
“It’s not something someone who’s had a normal upbringing would understand. Even those of us who suffer from the fears don’t always understand. A lot of the time, there is a constant inner struggle going on—our minds telling us one thing, but our feelings telling us another.”
“But you and Jax…you two are solid, right?”
Her smile was soft. “We are. But that doesn’t mean I can just erase all my ingrained fears. I’m still struggling with them, and Jax is doing a damned good impression of a saint, helping me with them too.”
“So, how does this work for Rubi?”
“She grew up with her father leaving her at the drop of a hat. And often without telling her. He just wouldn’t come home. She lost nanny after nanny because her father is a bastard and a womanizer, so she never got close to any. He never showed up to a school event. Never showed up to any graduation, not even for the bachelors and masters he paid for. He never once remembered her birthday. As you can imagine, her early relationships with men didn’t go well, because she’d never been shown how a decent relationship worked. But all that has scarred her. The fact that she’s pushing you away tells me just how important you are to her. Maybe too important.”
“How could I be too important?”
“It’s easy to screw around with people you don’t care about. There’s nothing at stake. But playing that game with someone who fills a special place in your life? Someone who could leave a hole in your heart if he vanished? That’s a huge risk. Even more so to a woman who is extremely sensitive.
“Take my relationship with Jax, for example. I still love Rubi the same, still love being with her, but now I’m either working or with Jax. That doesn’t give me much time with Rubi. She loves Jax and wants us together, but she’s still struggling with a sense of abandonment. Where I used to be available to her anywhere, anytime, now I’m not. On a subconscious level, she’s reliving the experience of having the main person in her life, one who is supposed to love and nurture her, pulling away. So the threat of giving a relationship with you a try coupled with the threat of having it not work out and losing your friendship in the process…is pretty terrifying.”
Wes laid his head back down on the desk, more confused and discouraged by the moment. “What a clusterfuck.”
Lexi ran the medicated cotton over the skin at his jaw, where some anonymous drunk fucker who had no business getting involved had slammed his knuckles. Wes grimaced and reflexively turned away.
“Hold still,” Lexi said. “It’s hard to trust after a lifetime of extremes. Rubi’s either been ignored to the point where she felt invisible or showered with fake, suffocating attention. You’re the first guy who really sees her. Sees the woman beneath her looks and attitude, and appreciates her uniqueness. I think that’s both what draws her to you and what scares the shit out of her.”
Wes sighed and closed his eyes, exhausted. All he wanted to do was lie down with Rubi curled in his arms and fall asleep with his face buried in her hair. The mere thought pulled the stress from his muscles. Christ, that sounded like bliss.
He wondered if that would fall into the friend category.
Jax returned from the other room, a pensive look on his face as he inspected Wes. Then he glanced at Lexi and ran a hand over her back. “How does he look?”
She smirked and leaned into him. “Looks like he got into a fight. I might be able to sew you guys back together, but I don’t have X-ray vision.”
He lifted his chin at Wes. “How do you feel?”
“As good as I look. Why? What did Rimer say?”
“He says MacKenzie’s told him you can act. Wants to know if I think I could coach you through the part.”
Wes’s mouth dropped open. “Holy—”
“Not the same pay as Bolton, but a hell of a lot more than I can pay you. If you wanted to act, dude—”
“No. How many times do I have to turn down a role for people to know I don’t want anything to do with acting?”
“Believe me, I understand,” Jax said. “But I don’t want to be the one cheating you out of an opportunity.”
“That’s how Harrison Ford got his start,” Lexi said. “Filling in for an actor when he was working on sets backstage. You could be the next—”
“No, thank you.” He turned his attention back to Jax. “What’s his plan B?”
“Rimer’s at as much of a loss as I am,” Jax said. “We’re halfway through filming, and I won’t have the budget back in line for another few months. Recasting now would mean rerunning the scenes with the new guy, which would push us over budget again.” Jax rubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck.”
Yeah, they’d definitely be fucked. The realization of it showed on Lexi’s worried expression. Jax had made a deal with Rimer when he’d taken the job. Another stunt company had run the film twenty million over budget and been fired. Jax had accepted the job with the understanding that Renegades would get paid 10 percent of the money he saved the production company by bringing the budget back into line. Refilming meant Renegades would lose two million dollars.
Two million dollars that would allow Jax to hire more stuntmen. Allow Jax more time with Lexi. Allow the company to grow and give them all steady, well-paying jobs.
“I’ll make it work.” Wes pushed to his feet. “I’ll beat the guy into submission if I have to.”
“Rimer’s leaving him there for the night,” Jax said. “He’s got a guy—part counselor, part ass-kicker—to spend a day with him tomorrow. We’ll have to switch up the filming schedule.” He rubbed his hand along his jaw as he looked Wes up and down. “But it doesn’t look like you’re going to be in any shape to pick up more action scenes.”
“Hell you say.” Wes puffed up his chest and fisted his hands at his sides.
Jax grinned. “Knock it off. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Wes sagged and winced, rolling his shoulder.
“Go on home,” Jax said. “Sleep in tomorrow. I’ll be revamping the schedule all morning.”
Wes nodded and started toward the door but knew sleep wouldn’t come easily tonight.
Nine
Rubi sank deeper into her plush sofa and spooned another mouthful of limited-edition Triple Chocolate Swirl Häagen-Dazs past her lips. The rich, decadent flavor of dark chocolate coated her mouth, and her eyes rolled back in pleasure. Hardly a substitute for the taste and feel of Wes’s mouth, but…
She hadn’t seen him or talked to him or texted him in almost twenty-four hours now. The longest they’d been apart in two months. He was giving her the space she’d told him she needed, but it didn’t feel anywhere near as good as she’d thought it would. Nor was it as easy as she’d thought it would be. Especially not since Wes had moved into the bottom floor of Jax’s house, just two miles down the beach. He was way too close. Way too accessible. And keeping her distance was…torturous.
She glanced down at the note he’d left on her car that morning, one she’d found in her pocket earlier.
WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES ALL I CAN SEE
IS YOU IN RED LEATHER.
On the sofa, at Rubi’s side, her pup scooted closer and laid his adorable head on her thigh. A mix of lab, pit, and boxer, Rodie had a brindle-and-white face, big golden eyes, and lopsided ears that instantly lifted Rubi’s mood, no matter what issues plagued her.
“Sorry, baby,” she said. “Am I ignoring you?”
She laid her spoon against the carton’s lid on the side table and ran her hand over Rodie’s smooth head. Her gaze traveled over the still images of Wes’s fight practice with Keaton from the day before where she’d storyboarded them on a corkboard across the living room.
Wes’s intense expression absorbed her attention. So focused. So fierce. It sent tingles of heat low in her belly. Her gaze drifted over his body, his stance strong, one hand fisted near his face, the other arm outstretched in a strike.