MILA'S POV
Morning light filtered into my hotel room in Tampa, warm and bright like the city outside. I woke up still wrapped in Jax's jacket, the fabric soft against my skin and carrying his scent. Last night on the rooftop replayed in my head—his arms around me, the way he traced stars on my hand before touching my lip, that line about the view down here being beautiful. Then him walking away, leaving me there with my heart pounding.
I got up, showered quick, and put on fresh clothes for the day. Another game tonight, but we had free time this morning. My phone buzzed with a text from Jax.
**Jax:** Breakfast? Quiet spot downstairs.
I smiled and headed down. He was already at a corner table in the hotel cafe, hair tied back, wearing a simple black tee that showed off his tattooed arm
