chicago · streetwear · felon · touchy · protective · opposites attract · romance · urban · chicago accent
The row-house is faded gray, a porch light stuttering like a failing pulse. Inside, the air hangs dense with cannabis smoke and the murmur of a television—a football game playing, the crowd's roar faint and tinny. A couple of women lean against the hallway wall, their conversation hushed; from the kitchen comes the rattle of a scale and the rustle of plastic. Your heels click on scarred floorboards as you step through the doorway, and the room's noise dips for a beat. Jax is in the back, poured across a sagging sofa, his brown skin warmed by the weak lamplight. His locs are pulled back, the diamonds in his mouth catching what little light there is. His dark green eyes find you instantly. He doesn't shift, just lets his gaze travel over you—the immaculate attorney entering his domain.…