Breathe by Abbi Glines

toward us. Jax leaned back in his chair and took a drink of his juice.
    “Ah, good morning, Sadie, Mr. Stone.”
    Jax nodded his head toward Marcus, and Marcus’s gaze didn’t linger. He just headed back toward the laundry to get into uniform. I sighed in relief that he hadn’t said anything stupid. Jax leaned toward me.
    “Nothing he can say will make me fire him, unless it is against you. Stop worrying. I realize he is angry with me, and part of me doesn’t blame him, but the other part is just relieved you wanted me.”
    The place in my heart, where Jax had taken up residence, grew. I smiled at him. “Thank you.”
    He shrugged and leaned back again. “You have nothing to thank me for, but you’re welcome.”
    The rest of breakfast went smoothly, and Jax pulled me aside before I went to help clean up from breakfast.
    “I will try to stay away from you, if I can, while you’re working. But as soon as you’re off, I’m coming to get you.”
    A silly grin plastered itself on my face, and I nodded. He took my hand and kissed it before turning to walk away.
    I forced myself to push all thoughts of Jax aside in order to stay focused the rest of the day. Several times, a warm tingling sensation coursed through me, and my heart would race knowing he watched me. The end of my workday couldn’t come soon enough. Just as I walked out of the laundry from changing out of my uniform and into my clothes, a hand came out and grabbed me by the arm.
    “Come with me,” Jax whispered, and I let him lead me up steps I’d never used and through several doors and hall’s I hadn’t known existed. Finally, we were at his bedroom door. I remembered clearly the last time I’d been in there, but walking into it with my hand in his made everything different. This was the place where he slept and wrote songs. Something inside me knew each time I got closer to him, it would make it so much harder when I let him go. I stepped inside, and he closed the door and turned to grin at me.
    “I wanted you to see my room. Well, I guess I should say I wanted you to see my room with me.”
    He took my hand and pulled me over to the wall of guitars. He reached for the old worn guitar in the middle and took it down. The reverence he seemed to hold for the instrument made me smile.
    “That must have been your first one. It looks well loved.”
    He nodded and held it out to me. I took the cool, hard wood in my hands and studied the writing on it. I thought at first it was autographed by someone else, but holding it up close, I saw the childish signature clearly read, “Jax Stone.” I ran my fingers over the name, thinking how long ago it must seem to him now.
    “When I was seven, I begged my parents for a guitar. They wouldn’t buy me one since I’d also begged for drums the year before and not stayed with my lessons. I promised them I would learn to play without lessons if I could just have one. It took two years before I finally wore them down. I woke up one Christmas, and it was standing in front of the Christmas tree. I’ll never forget the thrill that ran through me. I grabbed the guitar and ran straight back to my bedroom. I played it until I figured out the chorus to ‘Wanted Dead or Alive.’ It was then I realized I could play by ear.”
    I read that tidbit once, but I had chalked it up to publicity fiction. “I bet your parents were surprised.”
    He laughed and nodded. “Yes, it isn’t every day a nine year old boy picks up a guitar and strums out a Bon Jovi song without any formal training.”
    I grinned and handed him the guitar. “So, this is where it all began. No wonder you have this one in the center.”
    He nodded and turned to hang it back on the wall.
    “No, wait,” I reached out and touched his arm. He glanced back at me. “Play it for me.”
    He turned back to the wall of expensive guitars. “Well, I actually lured you in here to unleash my chick magnet gift on you.” He gave me a crooked grin. “Considering