Vesper’s POV
The question didn’t leave the table immediately.
It hung there heavy and uncomfortable.
Connor was still leaning forward, grinning, while Mason and Noah had gone unusually quiet, watching us enjoy the reveal.
I slowly shifted my gaze away from Connor and looked at Jaxon instead.
He wasn’t smiling.
No lazy grin, no sarcastic deflection, no casual confidence like he always carried.
His expression had gone still, almost controlled.
“Answer him,” Connor said lightly.
“We’re all curious now.”
Jaxon exhaled once through his nose.
“You’re not curious.
You’re bored and trying to fix it.”
Noah decided to pour gasoline on it.
“Seriously, Jaxon.
You never actually told us who she was.
You just… stopped talking about her one day.”
My fingers tightened slightly around my glass.
Jaxon noticed.
Of course he did.
He always noticed things he pretended not to.
Connor’s voice softened just enough to make it worse.
“So what?
Are you telling me there was a mystery girl and now there’s a mystery wife?
That’s kind of your brand now?”
A few people laughed like they were stepping around something fragile.
I should have laughed, too, but I didn’t.
Instead, I looked at Jaxon again.
“What girl?” I asked.
My voice came out calmer than I felt, and Jaxon didn’t answer immediately.
That was the problem.
He reached for his drink, took a slow sip, and only then looked at me.
“Connor talks too much,” he said.
“That’s not an answer,” I replied.
“It’s a warning.”
”A warning about what?”
His gaze held mine for a second longer than necessary.
Then he said flatly, “About asking questions you don’t actually want answered.”
That should have shut me up, but it didn’t.
Because something in my chest had already shifted uncomfortably.
Mason leaned forward again, grinning now.
“Oh, this is good.
She’s jealous.”
“Oh, she’s definitely jealous.”
”I said I’m not—”
Jaxon cut in smoothly, not looking at them.
“Enough.”
One word and the table quieted again, not because they respected him but because they knew when he meant it.
And right now, he meant it.
But the damage was already done.
Something had already been planted in my mind, and I didn’t like that I couldn’t pull it out.
The ride back to the villa felt longer than it should have.
The air inside the car was quiet, only the soft hum of tires against the coastal road and the distant sound of waves breaking against the shore.
Jaxon drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely near the gear shift.
His posture looked relaxed, but I was starting to understand him enough to know that didn’t always mean anything.
Once we arrived, I walked down to the dimly lit kitchen to grab a bottle of water, surprised to find Jaxon already leaning against the counter.
“So,” I said casually, breaking the silence.
“You didn’t answer the question.”
He didn’t look at me.
“Which one?”
I turned slightly toward him.
“Don’t do that.”
Then, “Do what?”
”That thing where you act like you don’t know what people are talking about.”
His mouth twitched slightly, almost a smile, but not quite.
“That narrows it down to about everything I do.”
”The girl,” I said again.
Silence stretched between us.
Jaxon didn’t respond immediately, and that alone made my thoughts louder than they should have been.
I tried to keep my tone light.
“Was she real or just something your teammates made up to annoy you?”
That earned a short laugh from him.
More like… remembering something he shouldn’t.
“She was real,” he said finally.
My chest tightened before I could stop it.
“And?” I asked.
“And nothing can you just drop it, you’re crossing boundaries now,” he replied simply.
That was supposed to end it, but it didn’t because now I was thinking about it.
A lot.
And somehow it stuck in my head longer than it should have.
I stepped closer again, close enough that I could see the faint shift in his expression.
“Were you in love with her?” I asked, and that question changed the air instantly.
Jaxon didn’t respond right away.
Instead, his gaze dropped briefly to my mouth just for a second.
And when he finally spoke, his voice was lower than before.
“Do you always ask questions you’re not ready to hear answers to?”
My grip tightened slightly on the bottle in my hand.
“That depends,” I said.
“On what?”
”On whether you’re going to answer them.”
Silence stretched between us longer this time.
He stepped closer just enough to erase the space.
My back hit the kitchen island without me fully realizing I had moved.
Or maybe he had moved me.
I couldn’t tell.
His hand came down on the counter beside me, trapping me lightly between him and the marble surface.
Not forceful but impossible to ignore.
“You’re drunk,” he said quietly.
“I’m not that drunk.”
”That’s worse.”
I frowned.
“How is that worse?”
”Because then you’ll remember this.”
My breath caught slightly at the tone of his voice.
Calm and Controlled.
My eyes flicked to his again.
“You’re avoiding the question,” I said.
His gaze held mine longer this time, and then, finally, he spoke.
“It was you.”
The words didn’t make sense immediately.
I blinked.
“What?”
His hand shifted slightly on the counter, tension visible in the small movement.
“It has always been you,” he said again.
My brain stalled.
For a moment, I forgot the room, the villa, everything except the way he was looking at me like I was supposed to understand something I clearly didn’t.
“That’s not funny,” I said quietly.
“I’m not joking.”
My throat felt dry suddenly.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I whispered.
Jaxon leaned in slightly, close enough that I could feel his breath against my skin.
“Then don’t think about it too hard,” he said.
And before I could respond, his hand moved to my jaw, tilting my face up slightly as he kissed me.
It wasn’t soft, and it wasn’t rushed either.
It was controlled in the same way everything about him was controlled, like he had been holding something back for too long and finally stopped trying to hold it in.
My fingers instinctively gripped his shirt.
Not pulling him closer or pushing him away.
Just holding on.