XII

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-The Sour, The Sweet-

I spent a total of five weeks, driving to Elijah's and sitting outside his gate, he wouldn't let me up the driveway and even told the security guard that covered the grounds to tell me to wait purposely, before having him tell me he wasn't going to see me. So it was inevitable that I got closer to Jax, I drove in jeans, baby blue button up but fitted shirt and messy hair to the ridiculously large house on the hills and rang the bell at the gate incessantly. A gruff voice that sounded almost mean greeted, or rather yelled at me. "What could possibly possess a person dressed like you, have any business ringing my bell at this hour and in that state might I add, I do not know you young lady and I already have two kids so I couldn't possibly be your father." He barked, causing me to ring the bell again. "I'm Faith Ambrosio, I'm a frie..." I began, but the voice interrupted me, "Well Ms. Ambrosio, I really don't care who you are, Get. Off. My. Property!" He snarled causing me to flinch, I looked at my watch, it wasn't even that early.

I was about to give up and leave but the gate began to open, I quickly got in my car and drove inside, finally reaching the front part of the house, I stopped my engine and was greeted with an open robe wearing Jax, he had no shirt and black pajama trousers, I swung my car door open and dove straight into his chest not bothering to close it or even shutting off my engine. "He won't see me Jax..." I sobbed into his chest, he set the cup of coffee down on the statue beside us, he wrapped his arms around me and I unloaded on him. "Shh, shh, shh..." He patted my hair as he swayed softly, I felt myself slowly calming down until it was only my double inhales taking over. "He's not mad at you, he's mad at me..." He said carefully, "Come on, let's go inside." He instructed, I stood on the steps wrapping my arms around myself as he went down to my car, turning off the engine and closing the door, he took my keys and placed it in his robe pocket,

Upon entering, there was a tall man in one of the many living rooms, he was also drinking his coffee but he had a newspaper in his large hands,He was tall as Jax, with a neatly shaped beard and wrinkles around his eyes, the same exact blue eyes. "Next time you have one of your little friends over make sure they don't drive up to the manor in complete and utter distress Jax." He said gruffly, Jax scratched his head. "Faith, this lovely, charming gentleman is my father, Lars Beckett." Duh, he looked so much better in person than what the news painted him out to be, He eyed me down from behind his newspaper I tried not to laugh at the sarcasm dripping from Jax's mouth. "Charmed I'm sure." He said blandly, Jax simply shook his head and took me to his room which I didn't get to see the first time we were here.

*Jax P.O.V*

I laid in bed that morning, listening to my beloved vinyl, I had Sam Smith on rotation this time, I got up to flip the record to the other side when I heard the front gate bell ring, it wasn't until I heard Faith trying to explain who she was to my crabbing father that I hurriedly went out to verify it was her, I got a cup of coffee from our maid and checked the video camera from the feed up front, I shook my head at how rude my father had been to her. "Do you have the slightest idea what manners are Lars?" I asked him with an incredulous face and pressing the button to open the gate. "Bloody fucking hell..." I murmured appalled by his lack of emotion.

When she crashed into me I felt my soul sink, indeed Elijah wasn't mad at her for ditching him, he was mad at me for influencing her to do so, Elijah had to at least like Faith if he was acting so hurt, the reason I know? That day on the beach he looked at her the same way I looked at her before I kissed her the day I showed her my vinyl collection, the exact same way I was looking at her right now as we stood in my room, I was falling, what's not to fall for? she's the most unique girl I've had the pleasure of knowing since I live in America, She's not superficial, she has her principles in order and at her age knows what she wants out of life. Meanwhile I'm twenty-three and don't know what I'm doing next week.

"How many record players do you own in total?" She asked as she lounged on my bed, with my headphones on listening to the Sam Smith record I'd repeated, "Mmm, let's see, I have three here, in America, and back home in London, I have two, one in my flat, one in my grandparent's home." She nodded as she stood up and took off the headphone jack from the suitcase looking record player, grabbing a seat at the flat baseboard of my bed while Sam spewed the lyrics to Too Good at Goodbyes, I was left to look up at her as she smiled down at me, I placed my hand on her thigh, watching the blush creep up to her cheeks, I smiled and let the silence fill the way we were staring at each other, little did I know the lyrics were an imminent omen.

I'm never gonna let you close to me
Even though you mean the most to me
'Cause every time I open up, it hurts
So I'm never gonna get too close to you
Even when I mean the most to you
In case you go and leave me in the dirt.

I pulled her up on my lap, she naturally wrapped her legs around me, I trailed my hand from her cheek, to her neck, stopping between her breasts where the cloth of her cleavage began. I sighed as she came closer to me, our lips connected in another kiss, I've never felt more innocent lips than hers.

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