“Is everything okay? I mean, when you went outside with Reece?”

“Yeah. He actually was talking about something unrelated to this. One of our buddies is getting married. I’m one of the groomsmen.”

“Aw, that’s nice. Is he one of the guys that come into the bar?”

He nodded. “It’s Dennis. He was making sure I could do the bachelor party since it’ll be on the weekday.” He watched me for a moment. “Tired?”

I really was. The tequila from last night and the events of today had caught up with me. I wanted to close my eyes and forget for a little while. I nodded as I pushed myself onto my feet, figuring it was time for Jax to take me back to the house.

“So am I,” he replied.

Instead of grabbing the keys he’d dropped off on the counter, he toed off his boots. I didn’t understand what he was doing since I didn’t think he’d drive barefoot. “Aren’t you going to take me to the house?”

The socks came off next, and he dropped them near the boots. “I’ve been staying with you. So has Clyde. That’s definitely not changing now.”

I was sort of glad that one of them was staying with me now.

“It’s late. There’s no reason for us to drive back out,” he continued. “You can stay here.”

My heart did a backflip. I’d never stayed over at a guy’s house before. “I don’t think I should stay here.”

“You can have another juice box.”

I glanced at the front door as my insides knotted up and my hands started to get a wee bit clammy. “I don’t want any more apple juice.”

“I have fruit punch, too. Not the generic shit. Capri Sun.”

He had a variety of juice boxes? I shook my head. That wasn’t important. It was most definitely cute, but not important. “I don’t have a change of clothing.”

Jax grinned as he rounded the couch and neared me. Every muscle in my body tensed. “I’m sure I have something you can wear. And I also have unopened toothbrushes. You’re covered.”

Damnit.

“Calla, it’s no different than me staying at your place.”

But it was. My pulse kicked up as I searched for a logical reason that didn’t involve me being dumb, but there really wasn’t a valid one I could come up with. “Okay,” I breathed.

That damn grin was back and now my stomach was doing cartwheels. “I’ll . . . I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Not happening.”

“Then you’re sleeping on the couch?” I asked, hopeful.

He laughed. “Hell no, that thing isn’t comfortable. No one I even remotely like sleeps on that couch.”

Oh dear. “Do you have another bed?”

“Only one, but it’s big.” He reached between us, taking my hand, and I cringed, because I seriously hoped my hand wasn’t sweaty. “King-sized. There’s room for both of us and a Saint Bernard.”

“You have a Saint Bernard?”

He chuckled. “No.”

That was a stupid question. “I don’t think it’s good that we sleep together. I mean, that’s like really . . . I don’t know, just not a good idea.”