Hi there! Former English nerd/teacher here. Also a big fan of jazz of the 30s and 40s.
So. Here’s the thing. Given a cursory glance and applying today’s worldview to the song, yes, you’re right, it absolutely *sounds* like a rape anthem.
BUT! Let’s look closer!
“Hey what’s in this drink” was a stock joke at the time, and the punchline was invariably that there’s actually pretty much nothing in the drink, not even a significant amount of alcohol.
See, this woman is staying late, unchaperoned, at a dude’s house. In the 1940’s, that’s the kind of thing Good Girls aren’t supposed to do — and she wants people to think she’s a good girl. The woman in the song says outright, multiple times, that what other people will think of her staying is what she’s really concerned about: “the neighbors might think,” “my maiden aunt’s mind is vicious,” “there’s bound to be talk tomorrow.” But she’s having a really good time, and she wants to stay, and so she is excusing her uncharacteristically bold behavior (either to the guy or to herself) by blaming it on the drink — unaware that the drink is actually really weak, maybe not even alcoholic at all. That’s the joke. That is the standard joke that’s going on when a woman in media from the early-to-mid 20th century says “hey, what’s in this drink?” It is not a joke about how she’s drunk and about to be raped. It’s a joke about how she’s perfectly sober and about to have awesome consensual sex and use the drink for plausible deniability because she’s living in a society where women aren’t supposed to have sexual agency.
Basically, the song only makes sense in the context of a society in which women are expected to reject men’s advances whether they actually want to or not, and therefore it’s normal and expected for a lady’s gentleman companion to pressure her despite her protests, because he knows she would have to say that whether or not she meant it, and if she really wants to stay she won’t be able to justify doing so unless he offers her an excuse other than “I’m staying because I want to.” (That’s the main theme of the man’s lines in the song, suggesting excuses she can use when people ask later why she spent the night at his house: it was so cold out, there were no cabs available, he simply insisted because he was concerned about my safety in such awful weather, it was perfectly innocent and definitely not about sex at all!) In this particular case, he’s pretty clearly right, because the woman has a voice, and she’s using it to give all the culturally-understood signals that she actually does want to stay but can’t say so. She states explicitly that she’s resisting because she’s supposed to, not because she wants to: “I ought to say no no no…” She states explicitly that she’s just putting up a token resistance so she’ll be able to claim later that she did what’s expected of a decent woman in this situation: “at least I’m gonna say that I tried.” And at the end of the song they’re singing together, in harmony, because they’re both on the same page and they have been all along.
So it’s not actually a song about rape - in fact it’s a song about a woman finding a way to exercise sexual agency in a patriarchal society designed to stop her from doing so. But it’s also, at the same time, one of the best illustrations of rape culture that pop culture has ever produced. It’s a song about a society where women aren’t allowed to say yes…which happens to mean it’s also a society where women don’t have a clear and unambiguous way to say no.
remember loves: context is everything. and personal opinion matters. If you still find this song to be a problem, that’s fine. But please don’t make it into something it’s not because it’s been stripped of cultural context.
This is the way he watches you from across the bar, nursing whatever little drink he had decided on. A soft roll of his eyes as he watched you flirt with the man that had been making eyes at you all night. “It’s just for funsies. Isn’t your best friend allowed to have some fun?” You cooed, ruffling his hair before sliding off of the bar stood and sauntering over to the man across the room. Sam’s blood boiled as he watched you drape your body over the man’s and he pushed himself to stand quickly, making his way over to where you were. He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling your attention to him and the darkness in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. “Hey bud, I’m glad my girl kept you company but it’s time she comes back where she belongs.” He all but growled, tugging you off of the man and maneuvered you in the direction of the door. “Playing big girl games gets you big girl punishments, just wait til we get home.” You giggled at the sinister undertones in his voice as he led you in the direction of the car.
A/N: Would you guys mind if I left this short, sweet, lil Christmas Jake blurb here? You wouldn’t mind? Okay, thanks! Also, how would we feel about more, untitled, xmas blurbs? I wanna keep doing these! They are fun and good for my chronic writers block lol.
Word count: 991
Pairing: Jake x f!reader
Warnings: none! Unless you dislike Christmas
✿ ✿ ✿
You're an adult now, but while cruising through the aisles alone, listening to the sound of Christmas carols echo throughout the nearly empty store, that rush sails through you still. You never fully grew up, you can tell from the way you hum along to the tune of Rockin' Around The Christmas tree and feel temptation pull at you when you spot frosted Christmas cookies near the bakery section.
This year was a little different, though. 8 days till Christmas and you still don't have the tree up, or any decorations for that matter.
Now, normally, you're a December 1st decorator. As soon as it hits midnight, you bring out the lights and tinsel and deck the halls. It's the deal you made with Jake when you first started dating.
"No Christmas music till December." He hums, sliding up beside you at the counter.
You were just putting the finishing touches on the pumpkin roll for your Thanksgiving celebration with friends. Of course, you were humming a carol under your breath, because just about everywhere is playing them now. With a groan and eye roll, you zip your lips and sigh through your nose. When you moved in together, the rule migrated to decorations as well…
"But, Jake, they're my decorations." You pout, clutching your favorite nutcracker in your hands.
He comes up to you with a smile and kisses the tip of your nose, "Wait a little longer. Save my sanity, I grew up with Christmas being 24/7 all my life."
It was his best excuse honestly, being from that little Michigan town that obsesses over the holiday. Part of you felt bad for him. For you, Christmas is so special, so joyful and cheery. You have always looked forward to this holiday, ever since you were a little kid. Softly sighing, you pick up the box of cookies and set them in your cart, heading toward the checkout.
This year, you haven't gotten around to decorating. Recently being promoted at your job, a lot has been on your plate, and it slipped your mind. Along with Jake being busy at the studio and with rehearsals, time just flew by.
Your shared home is the only one on the winding road that has no decorations, not even a wreath on the front door. It was a dreadful sight, your nearest neighbor's house gleams while your's is in the dark. And just as usual, you pull in the driveway and your house sits in the dark, sad and gloomy.
You grab the groceries and head up the path, up the steps and in through the door. All the lights are off, which is odd considering Jake made it home earlier than you, but you just figure he's in his studio, most likely plucking at a guitar or writing some lyrics down. He always takes work home with him.
"Jake?" You call out into the darkness, taking a step forward down the hall and call out once more, "I got us cookies-"
You startle with a gasp when suddenly, a colorful warm glow lights up the room. With raised brows and jaw dropped, your eyes twinkle when you spot the house, decorated perfectly from head to toe. There in the living room stands the culprit, a sheepish smile on his face as he watches you with his hands behind his back.
Your heart swells when you spot him, "Jake."
"Hey," he answers casually, trying to brush this off, "you need help with the bags?"
"You-?" You look around as he comes forward and takes the bag, leaving you to gaze at his work in complete awe.
You glance back at him as he takes the food to the kitchen, then step into the living room where most of the decor is. Nutcrackers and snow globes sit along the mantle, and your stockings hang at the fireplace. Garland and sparking trinkets hang from the bookshelves and tables. A jazz Christmas record spins on the turntable, it's music softly filling the room. The tree stands by the front window, it's lights aglow but missing ornaments and a star.
Two warm arms wrap themselves snugly around you from behind and Jake rests his chin on your shoulder, "Figured you didn't want me to do all the decorating."
"Oh, Jake." You turn in his arms and hug him tight, kissing his cheek and tucking your face into his neck, "You didn't have to do all this."
"I know," he hums back with a smile, "but I wanted to. You deserve it."
"I love you." You pull back, staring at him with sincere happiness in your eyes.
"I love you too, baby." He grins, coming forward and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.
Your hands cup his face as you pull back, fingers pushing his hair back behind his ears as you whisper, "Thank you, so much. I know you don't like this as much as me, but I really appreciate it."
"You've just been so busy," he hums, still keeping you in his arms, "I got out of the studio early and figured it's the least I could do." His eyes gleam as he softly adds, “Also, I like seeing you this way. Happy. I just want you to be happy.”
You pull him back in for another hug, "You're the best."
"Let's put some ornaments on the tree, yeah? And we can watch a Christmas movie afterwards?" He pulls away, taking your hand and guiding you over.
You grin with excitement, opening the boxes and pulling out the shiny ornaments, sighing with contentment, "Oh, I just love you."
Happy Thanksgiving to everyone on this beautiful, chaotic site 🖤🖤🖤
Also, Happy Happy Thanksgiving to my beautiful friends in this fandom and on this site who never fail to bring sunshine to my life. I’m so thankful for this band that brought me some of the best people I’ll ever encounter in my life. Crazy how the universe works, but man am I thankful for it. 🥹
Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in.
Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.
At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.
Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); smutty smutty smut; oral sex m!receiving; unprotected p in v sex; mentions of toxic past relationships (cheating, lying, etc.) (lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)
Chapter Word Count: 15k+
Covet Masterlist
a/n: alas, the second part of chapter 7!
as per usual, life has been busy and stressful. but, recently, i've had a couple of terribly sad things take place on top of it all. so, all of that piled up has stalled me. threw me way off balance for a bit.
my anxiety has also been ✨trippin'✨ recently, so i'm just drowning atp.
as always, ty to my sis @joshym for being a fucking amazing sister, talking through ideas w me, and proofreading for me <3 ilysfm
and ty to my wonderful friend @alwaysonthemend for being amazing and supportive + ever-encouraging. u r wonderful & ilysfm <3
i hope u guys (gn) enjoy the rest of chapter 7!
-🌼🌼🌼-
Waking up the next morning was not as wonderful as it’d been the morning prior.
You loved your sister with nearly everything in you, but being tied up in her legs was absolutely nothing compared to being curled up in Jake’s.
Your body ached to feel his body against yours in the morning again. . .formed to yours, your legs tangled up in each other, your cheek resting on his warm, firm chest.
Shit. You needed to feel him.
You were just about to get up to see if he was still in his room when Elsie made a telltale noise that she was awake. And when she cracked an eye open to look at you, she looked completely groggy and out of it.
But definitely awake. Before you knew it, she was up and aware and checking her phone through blurry eyes.
She yawned once more as she scrolled, but you knew this was only a sign that she was truly awake. A final yawn before starting her day. It was a weird thing you’d noticed with her years ago.
So, you knew that she would waste no time in wanting to start her day as soon as—
“Get dressed and let’s go get coffee,” she said, already walking to your bedroom to get her clothes on to start the day.
And within twenty minutes, you were both flitting about the apartment (bickering already), with the Jetta keys in Elsie’s hand, ready to go.
As you loaded up in your car to start the day, you couldn’t help but notice the impending throbbing Jake had left between your legs from the night before.
A sick reminder of the person you hadn’t had the chance to see again this morning.
-🌼🌼🌼-
You spent the day with Elsie, doing a variety of activities that you two used to do all the time.
You got the coffee she’d wanted as soon as she’d awoken, then got your nails done, went shopping for unnecessary things, got sushi. . .
It was a fun day.
But it dragged. On and on.
Seeing Jake at the gig tonight was undoubtedly the thing you were looking forward to most all day long.
The dull pain between your legs from where Jake had been the night before had you getting even more excited.
But it also served as a reminder to make your rules.
He’d followed the other rules you’d made well enough (enough being the key term) before. It seemed a legitimate idea to pitch some again for whatever the fuck you two had now gotten yourselves into twice (and more than that if you counted the other things the two of you had done).
You just hoped he’d respond well to these. They were to benefit both of you. Keep the sex just sex.
Protection.
You were sure they’d be easy for you to follow, so you were crossing your fingers they would be for him, too. You weren’t going to ask a lot of him.
By the time Elsie was done buying whatever she definitely didn’t need from H&M, you already had a solid ten rules made up.
Ten seemed good. Even number. Good start.
And you’d made one rule for yourself personally: No funny business until the rules had been discussed.
You needed the rules in place to feel like you had some semblance of control over it all.
He’d just have to be okay with that.
-🌼🌼🌼-
The show hadn’t even ended, their little encore about to start, when you got a text from Jake, making your tummy flip at his name popping up on your screen.
Jake, 10:30 p.m.: Josh says to meet us at that bowling alley we played a couple weeks back
Jake, 10:30 p.m.: oh fuck I forgot
Jake, 10:30 p.m.: that was when you weren’t coming to our shows for god knows what reason. It’s called brooklyn bowl
Jake, 10:31 p.m.: we will be there as soon as this set is done. Head that way and we will meet you
The string of texts kind of shocked you, if you were being completely honest. The fact that Jake had apparently been willing to text you about the plans made your stomach dip.
And even though his little remark about you not going to their shows made your skin heat with irritation, you still felt butterflies as you quickly texted back.
You, 10:33 p.m.: Okay. We will see you guys there.
You nudged Elsie, showing her the texts.
Her lips had a smart little smirk as soon as she saw who it was texting you, her eyes flashing to you to see your expression.
You only rolled your eyes and said, “It’s not that he’s texting me, stupid. We need to leave.”
So she finished reading the texts, and nodded her head when she’d finished.
“That’ll be fun,” she grinned bigger, winking. She nodded once again, signaling for you to move out so she could follow you out from the booth you’d been sitting in to watch the guys perform. “Let’s go.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
You waited a good while for a lane to open up, the alley being oddly busy on a Monday night.
As you’d waited in line, Elsie had made a comment about Jake acting a little funny about you not being at their shows for a bit.
You’d pushed her off, claiming he was just being an asshole.
And your heart hadn’t beaten any faster when he’d sent a simple response as you waited in the line to get a lane.
Jake, 11:05 p.m.: :)
Jake, 11:07 p.m.: we will be there soon
You didn’t respond, not wanting to seem eager for a response or some shit. He’d know that you got his message by your ‘read’ receipt.
Eventually, you and your sister had a lane assigned to your party, and you located it. The two of you took the time to set up your names in the machine before the guys would arrive and presumably took over. You had a funny feeling they’d be pre-excited to start the game and compete.
And you knew well enough to stay out of their way when they got excited over bowling.
You assumed Jake would be the same. But you didn’t know as this would be your first time going out with him to bowl.
Well, going out with the guys and Jake. Not just him.
It wasn’t like you guys were dating or some weird shit.
Fuck no.
You weren’t. At all.
And just as that thought’d come to your mind, you figured tonight would be a really good time to talk over the rules you’d spent the day crafting.
Before he started assuming shit.
He probably didn’t. You knew better than to get too big of a head over Jake considering the thing you guys had done any more than just fucking.
You ignored the tiny sinking in your tummy over that thought. It didn’t matter. It was just fucking.
So. Yeah. Rules would be good to have. Good reminders. You’d find a quiet time tonight to tell him about them.
They would let you have the control you needed, and keep you both in line with the situationship staying strictly sex.
-🌼🌼🌼-
You were correct in assuming the boys would come in and take over the machine; fingers flew over the touchscreen panel and ridiculous pictures were taken to accompany their player names.
Elsie only sat back and watched Josh in nothing short of amazement, laughing at every single thing he’d say or do. And he’d look back at her and send secret smiles, shooting winks and long glances when he wasn’t looking at the machine.
They were fucking adorable.
But they could have the relationship.
You weren’t interested in something like that.
Though, you couldn’t help the way you watched Jake’s ass as he bent over the chair to put his name in, along with his own picture. His eyes crossed and tongue sticking out.
You really couldn’t help the smirk and tiny giggle that bubbled out of you when he’d set it up.
Also, his ass was looking fucking round and delicious in his jeans.
Fuck.
When he’d taken the initiative to get the guys’ shoes for them at the counter, you took the opportunity to do the same for your sister and you.
This could be your chance to talk to him about rules.
Following behind him a few healthy steps, you saw him bent at the waist, arms crossed on the shoe counter as he talked to the girl working it. What was he doing? He was only up there to get fucking shoes.
Despite being annoyed, you did openly take the opportunity to admire his ass while you could. It was too tempting not to. Firm as hell, and poking out yet again from this position he was leaning into.
You didn’t waste time, though, as you met him at the counter. There was shit to do and he was already taking too long.
You sidled up next to him, without another thought, as the girl across the counter continued to flirt openly with him.
You rolled your eyes at her, glancing at him as he did the same back. He had a shit eating grin on his face the whole time, as if he knew she was lapping up every bit of it all.
Stupid. You guys needed to get your shoes and get back to start the game. None of you had time for the little game he and this girl were playing.
And she needed to focus on her job.
“I need some shoes, too, if you don’t mind,” you butted in, pressing your arm into Jake’s. She looked annoyed, but you didn’t care. You were too. Looking down at your roommate, you narrowed your eyes at him. He was already looking at you, a raised brow and a smirk on his lips. Your panties got the slightest bit wet. Dumb. “Did you at least give her your fucking sizes?”
He rolled his eyes, but quickly changed his face to a knowing sort of thing that made you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. He uncrossed his arms from the counter, standing up to look down at you.
“Yes,” he said, voice dripping with irritation, and a mix of something else you couldn’t put your finger to. “Would you like to give her yours, ma’am?”
“Shut the fuck up, Jake,” you gritted in response. You looked back at her, as she continued to size Jake up. “Excuse me, I still need shoes. A woman’s size 6 and a size 8.”
And just as she begrudgingly left to get them all, you made eye contact with him again. He was already looking at you.
The apples of his cheeks were round with a big smile, pearly white teeth gleaming in the neon lighting of the place as he chuckled lowly.
“What, Cheshire fucking Cat?”
“You’re silly,” he said cutely. “And you’ve got a filthy fuckin’ mouth on you tonight, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
Your heart leapt at him calling you that. You really liked how it sounded when he called you pet names— like sweetheart and baby. . . It sounded so, so nice falling from his pretty lips.
Blinking back at him, you refocused. “I’m silly? What the fuck does that mean?”
“You just are. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s cute. You’re cute,” he leaned his butt against the front of the counter, and he reached out to toy with the halter top you’d worn tonight. “And you look fucking sexy tonight. Why didn’t you stand closer to the stage for me to see you while I played?”
You flushed, and felt the slightest bit sad when he let his hand fall from your shirt to tuck back into his front pocket.
“Wanted to show Elsie another vantage point of the show,” you replied, not wanting to tell him that you weren’t sure you could’ve handled being that close to him, watching him ruthlessly fuck his guitar. It would’ve made you fall victim to him before you were able to discuss your rules with him. “But that doesn’t matter. We need to talk about something.”
He let out a breath and then responded, “Well I know what this is going to be about,” he started, his eyes locking with yours. You lifted a brow, encouraging him to continue. “You don’t think us having sex is the best idea, hm? Can’t let yourself have too much of a good thing.”
Scoffing, you crossed your arms.
You uncrossed them.
Then, with a huff, you crossed them again.
You were starting to realize when you did this, it made you feel guarded, emotions not on full display. Jake brought out so many different emotions in you— made you feel exposed. Crossing your arms to hide what pieces of yourself you could cover was all you could do. You just weren’t sure if it was healthy to constantly be on guard like you so often were.
But it was just what you did. Especially with him.
“You think it’s that good?” You sassed, trying to disguise how wonderful you knew it to be, your pussy still in the slightest bit of pain from just how good he’d given it to you not even twenty-four hours ago.
His eyes bore into yours, challenging you. “Oh, you’re saying it wasn’t?” He turned towards you. “Is that why I had to cover your mouth to keep you from getting all loud? You didn’t seem to think it was so bad when—.”
“Here are your shoes!” The girl was back, sliding all six pairs Jake’s way. You scooted yours and Elsie’s over to you, eying the girl and judging how she was holding eyes with Jake.
“These were mine,” you reminded as you held onto the backs of the shoes, clicking them against the counter.
As you went to hold them in your arms, you waited for her to look up at you. And when she threw you a disgusted glance, you didn’t let her look away, pinning her there. And as if on cue, customers were showing up behind you and Jake.
“Better get to work,” you remarked at her, throwing a thumb back to point at the next people in line. You then tapped the other boys’ shoes to remind Jake to get them. He grabbed them just in time for you to take him by his sleeve. He chuckled under his breath as he let you drag the two of you over a few feet.
Why was he laughing?
You released him as soon as you were far enough away from the girl that she’d leave you alone.
“You like her?” You questioned hotly (for literally no reason at all, really just genuine curiosity). “She definitely likes you.”
“I don’t know,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Why does it matter?”
“It doesn’t.”
“You’re the one who asked.”
“I just think it’s a good idea for you to be careful where you’re sticking your dick,” you chided, assuming to yourself that was the reason you asked in the first place. There was no other reason to care. “I’ll make you fucking wrap that shit.”
“I always do,” he challenged, stepping towards you a bit. It made your heart thump in your chest.
“No you don’t,” you challenged back, crinkling a brow with a shake of your head. “You’ve never—.”
“Not with you I don't. Other girls, always. It’s fucking nasty not to,” he reasoned. His voice went impossibly lower, deeper with his next words. “I’ve never given a flying fuck about truly feeling the shape of a girl’s pussy until yours. I wasn’t going to miss out on that.”
Your cheeks heated, becoming red at his words. You could not be that special.
“That’s a fucking lie,” you hushed back, leveling with him. You pushed your chest out to fake a sort of sanity you were beginning to lack. “What about your ex-girlfrie—?”
“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’, his hand coming up to gently hold your bicep. His calloused thumb smoothed over your skin, drawing mindless shapes. You shivered. “Always used protection with her, too.”
You blinked. You were at a loss for words.
His eyes scanned your body. The outfit of black skinny jeans that showcased your ass and your striped halter top that gave you incredible cleavage. He watched the curves of your breasts as your chest heaved at him watching you.
Your eyes floated to his lips, full and pink and kissable. Fuck. You just wanted to kiss him so bad.
It seemed he wanted it, too.
His were getting nearer and nearer to yours.
And you were leaning into it. . . So close to what you were learning was a constant craving.
“Y/n!” Elsie’s voice from across the way brought you out of your momentary daze.
You shoved Jake back.
Dammit, you hated being cut off from him like that.
But you were currently way too close for outside onlookers.
Your eyes were as wide as a deer in headlights as you scanned the alley for her. You’d lost your party entirely, your mind being wrapped up in only Jake for the past fifteen minutes.
She whistled to gain your attention. And when you finally saw her, she was still on the bench from earlier, Josh right next to her. Their thighs were touching and his arm was over the back of her chair, facing away from you.
Thank fuck. He hadn’t seen.
But you had the sneakiest suspicion Elsie had seen too much. The quirk of her lips said so.
You could deal with her later.
“Shoooooes!” She sang, Josh harmonizing with her momentarily as if to mock. She giggled at him, shoving his shoulder. Now looking at him as she spoke, “I’m ready to kick Josh’s ass and I need my shoes to do it!”
You looked back over at Jake for a split second, seeing the same disappointment in his eyes that you were feeling in the pit of your stomach.
But you just couldn’t chance all of them seeing you two like that.
You were still looking at him when you called back with a, “Coming!”
And as you walked back to your friends, Jake followed closely behind. You could feel him staring at your ass as you swayed it in front of him. With the smallest secret grin on your lips, you pressed the back of your hand to your cheeks to tame your blush.
The throbbing between your legs was begging for him.
You had to get these stupid (albeit necessary) rules out of the way quick so you could sneak off and let him fuck you.
-🌼🌼🌼-
“Ah! Another fucking strike!” Sammy punched the air in triumph, elbowing Danny in the side. “Try to beat my fuckin’ score, Daniel! Betcha can’t.”
The four of you that sat back at the booth to watch applauded Sam’s score, but urged Danny on to “kick his ass, Danny!”
“Don’t let him have the upper hand,” you shouted at Daniel, who sent a wink back at you.
And as Danny took his first shot, you heard Jake pipe up from across the table. “Who wants something to drink? Or maybe some fuckin’ chicken tenders or something. ‘M starving.”
Everyone yelled back “me!” except for you, who watched him lazily from your side of the booth. You’d been admiring him any chance you’d gotten from your spot all evening. He was sitting next to Josh and you were next to Elsie. Perfect view of him across the booth.
“Jacob, I volunteer you to get the booze and food,” Josh decided, clapping a hand against Jake’s shoulder. “I’ll play in your spot while you’re gone. We’re basically the same person, so it counts.”
Elsie joined in with her own two cents. “And I think you should help him carry it all back, sis, so I don’t let Josh get the upper hand with too much playing.” She added, “Let me play for you, too, and I’ll stay on the same page as him. Keep things fair.”
They laughed with each other like two little obnoxious love birds. And you couldn’t even care about it as you met eyes with your roommate, a glint in his eye at the prospect of you two escaping.
He got out, and you watched his body unfold, and then as he stretched from sitting. You averted your gaze when you heard the telling sign of a strike, and the sounds of Danny rubbing it in Sammy’s face.
“Sure,” you replied, trying to act irritated that she was making you leave. When you were actually anything but. She looked at Jake, then back at you, throwing you a wiggle of her brows as you got out. Bitch knew what she was doing.
Jake waited for you, and you quickly joined him in walking to the bar.
“You know how amazing your ass looks in those jeans,” he said to you in a low tone as you walked that way. “Do you always wear the sexiest shit on purpose?”
Heart racing, you looked up at him with a tiny grin. “Maybe.”
When you approached the bar, he put in a few orders of chicken and fries and several beers.
“Yeah, man, but it might take a bit,” the guy responded, looking over at you, giving you a decent once over. He was blatantly checking you out. You pretended you didn’t notice as you let your eyes travel back to Jake, whose eyebrows were turned in at the guy looking at you. “Probably like five to ten minutes. That okay?”
“If you can keep your eyes off of her while you do it, sure,” he said back, taking a step over, closer to you. The guy looked shocked to be called out, stuttering a bit. He nodded his head a few times at Jake in response.
“Yeah man, sorry,” he said, voice wavering. “Just don’t always see girls so pretty,” he sent a small, worried smile your way. “Sorry, miss.”
You tossed a hand his way, showing it was no biggie.
You could tell he was harmless. But you didn’t care about him.
Jake’s palms splayed out on the counter, and him standing tall to say what he did was all you cared about in that moment. His shoulders, broad, and dark brown eyes daring the guy to look at you again.
Sexy as hell.
Why did you like him standing up for you so damn much?
The guy scurried away, yelling out orders in the kitchen and then tending to the next customers.
You turned to Jake just as he did the same. All you wanted was to reach out and feel him, but you didn’t. Couldn’t.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you remarked, correcting him for no reason whatsoever. You liked it. Why were you saying anything? “I don’t need you doing that.”
Y/n, shut up, you heard the sweet voice in your head chide you. Just let him be there for you.
“Didn’t say you did,” he snipped back, his eyebrows turning in at you now. “Just didn’t like him looking at you like that.”
Your heart beat rampantly as you held his line of sight.
“Fine,” was all you could say in response. “But I still need to talk to you about what I had to earlier.”
“Did I not hit the nail on the head with what I said?” He questioned. “Too much of a—?”
“No, you didn’t,” you cut him off. He reared back a bit with a little ‘hm’. “Just let me speak. You can offer your opinion in a minute.”
You pulled your phone from your back pocket, opening up the notes with the rules, anxious to get your piece said.
“Rules,” you held up the device, flashing it at him before turning it back to yourself to read.
But before you could start, he interrupted. “Rules? We already went over our rules for the apar—.”
“Not the apartment,” you corrected.
He looked curious, his eyebrow raising in question. “Then what?”
“Sex.”
“Ha!” He let out the one cackle with a shake of his head. “Rules for sex?”
When he said it out loud, it sounded ridiculous. You couldn’t blame him for laughing when you heard the prospect from your own mouth.
But you had valid reasons for it.
“Yes. As weird as it sounds, they will help us,” you said, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “Are you ready?”
“Do I get a say?”
“You will once you’ve heard them all.”
He groaned, and you saw him throw a hand over his eyes. “Fuck, y/n.”
Was he that disappointed?
Did it matter if he was? This was important to you.
You watched his pecs and chest rise and fall through his partially opened shirt, tempting you. The quicker you got these read, the quicker you could take him to a hidden area and—.
“Well?” His voice made your eyes snap to his face. He’d smoothed his hand down his face, holding his chin as he looked as ready as he could to tolerate whatever the hell was coming from you. “I’m waiting.”
You sighed. “If you’re going to be a giant baby about them, then—.”
“I won’t,” he sighed as well, looking more and more open to hearing you out by the second.
Okay, maybe he really would be okay with this, you thought hopefully.
“Number one:—.”
“Just like old times,” he interrupted. You cut your eyes to him, narrowing them in his direction. “Feels like yesterday when we were standing in the living roo—.”
“Jake, shut the fuck up and let me finish,” you grumbled. “Or I’ll cut you off from me.”
Empty threat. You were not ready to do that anytime soon.
He waved a hand in your direction, gesturing for you to continue.
You growled under your breath, but stood straighter, not wanting him to see you flustered. “Number one: we will not make this a relationship. It is—and will stay— just sex.”
“Are you choosing that for both of us?”
“Yes.”
“Not totally fair,” he inserted. “I’m not sure how I feel about you being the one to make that decision.”
“And I’m not sure how I feel about you giving me such a hard time about it,” you bit back. Your defenses were flaring. Who gave him the right? “It’s my decision whether I want a relationship or not. I don’t want one. If you want one, find someone else. Because it’s not going to be with me.”
There were too many reasons it shouldn’t be a relationship. But you weren’t about to get into that.
His posture had drooped the slightest bit, and his eyebrows, furrowed with a sort of hurt. But before you could consider it any further, he was crossing his arms and his features were hardening.
“Fine,” he stated. Your heart fell in your chest at the word. He continued, “I won’t make a big deal of it. I’ll take what I can get.”
Your mind was in a frenzy. Jake was the worst (or, perhaps, best) at causing you to ride emotional rollercoasters. You couldn’t keep up with him.
And why was he fine with compromising so quickly? Whatever the reason, you weren’t going to question it.
“Okay,” was all you said. You waited a few beats, your eyes piercing the other’s. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you continued, “I think it will be good for it to be only about sex. Just trust me,” you softly encouraged, reaching out to pat his chest in reassurance. But you went to remove it quickly, remembering you shouldn’t show that sort of behavior in public.
Instead, he held it there for a few more seconds, letting you feel his heart beating, steadily under your open palm.
The moment was over before it started, though, and you thought it best anyway. There was a time and a place for that.
So, within record time, you told him the rest of the rules you’d made up (and he had a response for each one):
2) Nobody will find out. (“We’ve gone over that.”)
3) No questions or comments about dates the other one may have. It’s not our business. (“Oookay?”)
4) No excessive touching outside the bedroom. (“Alright.”)
5) Try to avoid sleeping together after. Especially avoid: cuddling. Too couple-y. (“Like you said: it’s just fucking. Why would I dare try cuddling you?”)
6) No pet names outside of the bedroom. (“Can do.”)
You stopped before the last few, looking up from your phone to make sure he was actually still engaged and taking you seriously.
To your pleasant surprise, he really seemed to be. He had a pensive look on his face, hand holding his chin in thought.
Soon, he looked back at you and replied. “Really doesn’t seem too hard,” he paused, raising his brow. “‘S that it?”
Shaking your head, you held up three fingers. You told him, “There’s three more.”
He breathed deeply in response, blowing the breath out slowly. He raised both brows, shook his head in mild agreeance (or maybe disbelief?), but once again motioned a hand at you to continue.
“Number seven: only sex on the days we’re both off work,” you recited from your screen. This one sounded kind of insane to your own ears when you said it out loud.
Jake confirmed this with a scoff. Your head perked up sheepishly at the sound, knowing that one was a little strange. Why had you decided that?
“Veto,” he said in annoyance. “Why is that even a rule? What purpose?” He continued, “I’ll be honest, if I look hard enough, I can find the tiniest purpose in every other rule. . . except that one.”
You nodded your head, acknowledging he was right.
“Do I still have a say? Because I really am not sure I can follow that one.”
“Yes,” you conceded sheepishly. Then, something overtook you and you honestly confided in him. “I think that one was just me grasping for control. I struggle with it on occasion.”
He chuckled quietly to himself, almost fondly. You blushed, waiting for him to respond.
“Just a little bit. But I’ll roll with it,” he replied, his soft gaze finding yours. You felt your tummy do flips. This. . . felt good. Being a little more open with him, and him accepting it. It felt nice—relieving, almost. “Go on. Last two.”
You cleared your throat, pulling your stare from him to look at your screen. “New number seven: No emotional dependency,” you iterated. With his crinkled brow, you clarified. “We aren’t responsible for dealing with each others’ emotions. That’s for relationships.”
That one made you sad for some reason. It was almost as though you longed for that with him. . . But it didn’t matter. That one was particularly important to help with boundaries.
“Alright,” he agreed, the sureness in his tone faltering a bit. Why? Did it matter to him too somehow? Ignore. Whatever. Move on.
“Number eight: no jealous behavior,” you added, scrolling onto the next one when you heard him pipe up.
“Does that include the girl at the counter tonight?”
You felt caught. But why? It hadn’t been jealousy. You’d just been annoyed. “That was just me being plain irritated with her lack of professionalism,” you clarified plainly. Your tone said to drop it.
“Okay,” he smirked, sniffling with a laugh. “Got it. You’re just an extreme professional. Alright.”
You rolled your eyes. “I am. And it was just annoying for her to be like that.”
“Why?” He poked.
You scoffed with a small huff. Motioning to the counter for emphasis, “She wasn’t doing her job.”
He continued laughing under his breath.
“Do you want me to continue or not?”
“Yes,” he relented with a tip of his head. “Last one?”
“Last one,” you confirmed. “Number nine: if one of us wants to end whatever the fuck this is, the other one has to be okay with it. No questions,” You expanded, “There is nothing tying us to each other, so there is no need to fight it if one of us decides to move on.”
He seemed to sit on that one for a bit, his stare boring into the floor. His thumb and index, stroking his chin, as if in deep thought.
“Order up!” The guy from before was back, sliding two trays your way. One piled with several opened beer bottles and the other, filled with steaming food in red baskets.
Jake suddenly came to, shaking his head and finally looking up. He took the one with the alcohol.
“This one is heavier,” he glanced over at you. He used his elbow to point at the other. “You grab that one.”
He went to move, but you put a hand on his arm to stop him from going anywhere.
Looking down in your direction, his eyes were dark with a secret emotion.
You really wished you could read him better. Every time you thought you could, he would throw you another curve ball of confusion.
“You had a response for everything else,” you pinned him there. “What’s your opinion on the last one?” You used your eyes to show him you were desperate for him to say something. “I want to know what you think.”
He stared at you for several moments, his eyes studying yours. You could have been completely naked and felt less vulnerable than you did at this moment.
Finally, his lips made a tight smile and he responded. “Like I said before: I’ll take what I can get,” he looked down at the beer, finally lifting it off the counter. You followed his lead with your tray, glad to get a response. But you stopped as he did, turned from the counter. He held you in place with his amber-brown eyes. “I just hope whatever the fuck this is doesn’t end anytime soon.”
All you could do was nod, feeling completely conflicted in every way at that moment.
You had to repeat to yourself that the rules were for a reason. You had to have them to stay in line. Keep things strictly what they were. A relationship was a bad idea. What you had was all you needed.
Right?
You felt completely torn. Because, all you wanted to say in response was,
“I never want it to end.”
But you didn’t. You weren’t about to completely contradict yourself with that. You only nodded once more, and started walking, leading the two of you back to the group.
-🌼🌼🌼-
You never ended up finding any more time to be alone at the bowling alley.
It was terrible, having to watch him from a distance all night. . . Wanting him more than anything. You felt fully ready to dive head first into this with him. You’d had an actual discussion about it. It felt more real now.
Whatever the fuck you were to each other. . . It had been firmly placed today with your talk. With the rules.
Now all you had to do was tie a nice bow on it.
Consummate the fuckin’ rules.
So, when Elsie told you she had to go see your grandparents before she met you back at the apartment, you let her go.
Josh had offered to drive her, leaving your car available for you and Jake.
And as you walked to the car, you had a gut feeling you wouldn’t be making it back to the apartment anytime soon.
-🌼🌼🌼-
And about fifteen minutes later confirmed that. Pulled over in an area covered by trees, just off the highway, nearing the apartment.
But neither of you could have waited if you tried.
He had you on his lap, your halter top undone, tits out and bouncing as he pounded up into you.
Your pants were down just far enough for you to ride his cock, where he sat in the passenger seat.
The car had been left on, as you didn’t want it to get so steamy that you’d possibly draw attention.
And the cool air was causing your skin to prickle, your nipples hard from the chilliness of the A/C.
You almost brought your shirt back up to cover them when Jake stopped you momentarily, bucking his hips up into you for emphasis. You yelped at the feeling of him pressing at your spot. . . just right.
“Fuck, Jake,” you moaned, you tried lifting your top back up when he reached a hand up to cover yours, pulling the material back down.
“No,” he panted, his eyes connecting with yours.
You wrinkled your brows. “Yes. I’m cold,” you corrected, the last word containing a weird lilt as the head of his dick met your cervix again. “Shit!”
“I’ll keep you warm, then.”
And within seconds, he had his mouth on one hardened peak and the other breast was being massaged by his strong, calloused hand.
You threw your head back in pleasure, sighing loudly with a whimper that quickly changed into a deep moan. Nipple stimulation—and just boob-play in general. . . It was your kryptonite. Fuck.
He released his mouth from your breast, giving the taut skin one more swirl from his tongue. But he paused above the other breast, a smirk on his features as he met your hooded gaze. “You like it when I play with your tits?”
You were too dazed by your lust to be annoyed with his slightly cocky attitude. “Yes. It’s my fucking krypto,” you sighed, pulling your hips up, and then sinking back down onto him slowly. He groaned as you did it a few more times. Now it was your turn to smirk. “Do you like it when I do this?” You rolled your hips down, molding your wetness to his thick shaft once more with the word.
He inhaled deeply, biting his lip. He grasped your hips to make you do it again. “Fuck yeah I do.”
Except with his action, he brought you down harder and your toes curled at the delicious friction against your hidden spot. He held your hip as you kept your body moving on him, but he switched one hand to massage your throbbing clit.
You sucked in a breath. “Oh,” you whined. “Yeah, that’s it. Fuck,” you sighed, pushing into his finger, desperate to feel every harsh line of the callous in the thumb that toyed with you. You wrapped an arm around his neck for leverage, tangling a hand in his hair, and leaned further into the motion.
Then, his right hand, that’d been holding your hip, left you to pull the seat lever, reclining the seat all the way back. You gasped as the chair’s movement made your thighs fall open more, gaining him even further access. The head of his dick took its rightful place at the furthest edge of your pussy.
The sudden change had your eyes rolling back into your head.
“I needed to feel you like I wanted,” he grunted, both hands finding your hips again. He squeezed the flesh at your hips before gently running his hands, as if admiring your curves, up to your waist. Then, further they went, up to your rib cage. You looked down at his face as you rolled your hips down onto him, causing both of you to shiver with a moan. “Fuck, y/n.”
He wasn’t looking at your face, he was watching in the darkness of the car, as your bodies moved together. You were in perfect rhythm, his hips meeting your tempo with every thrust you’d offer.
But you wanted him to look at you. You were desperate for his gaze.
“Jake,” you panted, driving your center against him. “Look at me.”
Jake did as he was told, instantly finding your eyes. He reached a hand up to hold your face, his gaze gentle. You loved his fucking eyes. Even in the natural blue of night that fell over you, you were still able to fall so easily into them. They were so deep, so true. . . never hiding any emotion from you. You wanted to use them as a window to explore him.
Before you could explore your thoughts any further, his pointer and middle fingers were entering his mouth. You watched, entranced, as he sucked on them long enough to get them wet and ready. And when the fingers found your sensitive clit, you couldn’t contain the whine that escaped your lips.
“Shit—fuck,” you gasped, mouth falling open as he played you like an instrument. He nudged at the hardened bud like he was making a beautiful melody, and you watched as his eyebrows drew in with the same concentration he gave a guitar solo. Your hips jerked against him of their own volition, needy for more. But you were nearing your end. You could feel it curling in your belly as he paid attention to the side of your pulsing clit. Then it was approaching faster—your movements were erratic, your body craving every piece of his it could get. “Jake—.”
“I know, baby,” he soothed, his own pelvis bucking furiously. “I’m close—you just feel so damn good. Shit.”
And before you knew it, the vibrations were reverberating through you after one particular shift from him. Your body shivered, every nerve in your body, absolutely electric. You felt your walls fluttering furiously around him, but as soon as you registered it happening, he was pulling out of you and finishing against your exposed stomach.
“Dammit,” he hissed. Your eyes darted down to his dick as he removed it from you hastily, making sure to point it away from your center and directly at your tummy.
You watched the release drip down your stomach, and into your belly button. But before you could watch much more of it, he was stretching his shirt to help clean your skin.
Seconds later, both of you were still breathing heavily, bodies coming down from the high. He was looking at the mess of your stomach and you were watching him. His hair was sticking to his forehead, and you couldn’t help it when you went to push some of it away and behind his ear.
His dark brown eyes found yours, a small, sweet grin fitting to his full lips. And, in that moment, you realized you felt genuinely happy for the first time in a very long time.
After a few more of the shuddering breaths,
your heart leaping in your chest at the twinkle in his eyes, you jumped at the telling sound of your sister’s ringtone.
You quickly pulled your pants back up, and re-situated yourself until you were fully put back together. Jake did the same below you, both moving your bodies to accommodate for the other.
Once your pants were done, you reached a hand to fully grasp the ties for the halter top to tie it back together. But just before you could re-tie it around your neck, he moved your hair to the side of your throat so you’d have easier access.
Hurriedly, you finished the job, and as you did so, Jake grabbed your phone for you from the dashboard. Your heart started beating frantically in your chest at the thought of him answering Elsie’s call and her possibly being with Josh and exposing the two of you.
Or the good chance that Elsie would slip up and say something sly to Jake.
“Don’t fucking answer it!” You snapped at him.
His lips turned down, his eyes losing the sparkle, and filling with fire instead. “I wasn’t going to,” he bit back. “Just being fucking kind.”
You rolled your eyes at him, and grabbed it from him.
Crawling over the console back into the driver’s seat, you answered your sister. You tried your best to mask being out of breath from the hustle as you buckled your belt.
“‘Sup, Els?” You swallowed down a fast breath.
“Fuck, y/n. I got back to the apartment and neither of you were here,” she replied, her voice wracked with nerves. “I tried texting you and you didn’t answer. I was worried about you.”
You blanched at that, your skin flushing. “I didn’t get a text,” you said back, your voice lilting at the end, in question. You would’ve heard it. . .had you been that lost in the moment? That you hadn’t even heard your phone chime?
When you pulled the phone away from your ear, you noticed a total of eleven texts waiting on your Home Screen from her.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Yep,” she sassed at you. “Where are you?!”
Frantically, you tried to find a good excuse. But you couldn’t think of anything. You really didn’t care for Elsie to know, but talking about it in front of Jake would show him you’re telling her, which would completely conflict with the rules you put in place.
Crap.
You stared out the windshield, your eyes shutting as though in resolution to having to expose yourself, right there in front of Jake.
Why couldn’t you think of something?!
A hand came to lightly touch your thigh, and you looked over to see Jake, a reassuring look in his stare.
“Tell her I forgot something important for my guitar at the venue,” he whispered, so quiet, his tone understanding.
Your face must’ve said ‘how did you know?!’
Because then he hushed, “Your volume is all the way fucking up. I’m sure if I were across the street I’d be able to hear it.”
You blushed, looking away from him, out into the night sky again. He removed his hand from your thigh, and you instantly missed it.
“Jake had to go to the venue for a guitar part he forgot,” you lied, turning your volume down a few notches. “And I got lost finding my way there. It was a fucking mess.”
“Of course you lost yourself,” she responded, impatient. “Just get home. I’ve always been kind of scared to be here by myself.”
“Oh my god. You’re fine,” you responded, putting the car in gear. “We’re on our way.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
Jake’s POV
Life was at its fucking pinnacle— the best it had been for the first time in years.
Everything that was happening felt aligned in the stars.
The band was doing fuckin’ fantastic. Every single gig we performed at drew more and more eyes—both fans and otherwise.
And apparently, even more than that. . . We recently found out that a few producers had been lurking (presumably looking for the right time to bite). The manager we’d picked up had also recently been contacted by a guy connected to this big festival that was happening in August. He’d made it extremely clear that he needed us to agree before he’d even finished pitching the idea.
“You guys don’t want to miss this opportunity,” he’d excitedly shared, his voice loud and grainy through the speaker as the four of us had listened. “It is a once in a fuckin’ lifetime, boys.”
So, there was all of that. The fact that my dreams seemed to finally be coming true was an exhilarating and unbelievable experience.
It was crazy how all it had taken was one move. The move. The move I had needed to make for the past several years, but had been too afraid of. I’d felt trapped in Illinois. Stuck under someone else’s thumb, stuck with someone I’d stopped loving a long time before I left.
Meanwhile, the woman had been cheating on me for God knows how long. If I let myself think back on all of it, I’d realize that she was never trustworthy. I’d just fallen in love too young— oblivious to the ways someone could be so horrible.
After her, I swore I would never feel about another woman so deeply. I didn’t want to. She’d ruined it for me. And I was validated even more when Josh told me I needed to take a break from women.
But I didn’t want a break. I just wanted to be done. No more relationships. Mindless fucking with random women was exactly what I thought I wanted.
My ex had completely destroyed any desire I could possibly have for a relationship. Fuck relationships. Fuck love. Fuck it all.
Then I met y/n.
She’d turned it all around with one look into her breathtaking eyes.
It caught me completely off guard. I’d tried my damndest to reject it.
And even after all of the shit I put her through (due to me acting like a giant ass, stubborn baby), she still wanted me.
But not like I wanted her.
I wanted it all. I didn’t want just mindless sex with her. Even though Josh had adamantly instructed me to “take a fucking break”, I had resolved that I couldn’t convince myself I wanted that when it came to her. Because I wanted her. Bad. In every way.
There was just something about her that was so fucking addictive. She was easily the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on, she loved music like I did, she was easy to talk to about anything (matching me perfectly in every conversation—or argument—we had), and she wore her heart on her sleeve (even though I knew she didn’t think so). She was endearing.
Then there was the giant shroud of mystery around her. So many pieces to her puzzle I could tell she was hiding that I wanted to put together.
But she didn’t want me to. She didn’t want me in every way.
No. She just wanted sex. Sex with rules, at that.
And at first, I didn't want to agree to any of the rules. I didn’t want rules—I knew what I wanted. I’d planned on it starting as sex and turning into more. You know, a natural flow of things.
But her rules had made it apparent she didn’t want that. At all. So, I’d decided that the best way to have her was to have her however I could.
So, if she just wanted sex, that’s what I’d give her.
Even though I wanted to give her all of me.
I never thought I’d want that with a woman again, but she’d proven me so, very wrong. . . no matter how hard I’d wanted to deny it. And I didn’t want it with just any woman. I wanted it with her.
Though in spite of the relationship with her not being everything I wanted it to be, it gave me a special piece of her that I held so close.
Sex with her was the most electrifying thing I’d ever experienced. More than the sex had ever been with any other woman.
And even crazier: it was more compelling than playing the guitar.
Fucking nuts—I’d never met a woman that had trumped the act of playing guitar. . .
But y/n had done just that.
So, even though it wasn’t what I wanted in my heart, I knew I wanted her. Everything she was and is. Everything that came with her.
But, if this was all I could get, it would have to do. It was better than not having her at all.
Having her in my arms, my dick filling her perfect pussy. . .it was the best part of my life at the moment. More so than the band. The festival. The fans.
I still loved guitar more than a person should. .
But. . .I loved being with her more than that.
There was nothing in the world like watching her unfold at the work of my hands, or my mouth, or my cock. The way her body would tense, her head thrown back, a scrunched brow. . . And the whines she’d emit. . .
I wished my guitar could make such a beautiful sound.
And the way she’d squeeze around me, engulfed in her perfect, wet heat. So tight, warm, and smooth like velvet. . . Fuck.
In my heart, though, I secretly hoped it would all change. That she’d decide to make it more.
I wouldn’t ever push it. She mattered too much to me for me to do that to her. I didn’t want to make her feel like she needed to be more with me if she didn’t want it. . .I just wanted her to want me like I did, her.
But, for the time being, until some sort of magic happened and she changed her mind, I would take what I could get.
Because, moments like the one I was in right now— her quivering and panting on top of me. Her sweaty tits, pressed against my thighs as her round, soft ass was flush against my equally sweaty abdomen.
I could feel every bit of her dripping pussy, fluttering around me. It was still slick from my mouth and how well I’d made her cum just minutes prior.
It felt so damn good and I was fucking loving every second of it. She fit my dick like a glove.
“Damn, baby,” I sighed, grunting with a thrust against her. When she squeaked with a moan, I knew that I’d hit a special spot. “You like that?”
I did it again, just to hear the noise she made for a second time. She constricted around me and my cock pulsed, suddenly feeling very close. Shit.
“Fuuuck,” she whined, her back arching. I held the curve of her ass in one hand, massaging the supple flesh with a thumb as I held her hip.
With another push of my hips, I met her sensitive spot one last time, eliciting a surprised whine from her.
I flipped us around, removing her from me, and turned her. When she sank back down, she was facing towards me, once again riding my throbbing cock.
But this view was better. Seeing her blissed out expressions as we fucked was amazing.
And when her tits bounced in my face, so round, full and sometimes already marked from my mouth, I had to try my hardest to not jizz right on the spot.
In moments just like these, I couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward to lick a hardened nipple into my mouth. I licked around her areola, appreciating every ripple and curve of the sensitive flesh. I pointed my tongue, and nudged at the bud, just like I knew she liked. I did so to each breast, knowing it would be sure to send her spiraling and wanting that from her.
And before long, I felt her walls start contracting around me. I leaned back, knowing she was close and needing to see her finish.
She looked down at me as she continued bouncing on top of me, her mouth opened just the slightest bit as she moaned at the angle. She relaxed her hips and flattened the inside of her thighs against the tops of mine.
“Fuck,” I sighed, enjoying the way I could feel every damn inch of her.
Though, I couldn’t help taking the reins for a moment to see her unfold in this position. Seeing her like this, letting the sun reflect off of her skin, beads of sweat glistening on her smooth skin. I had to let my lips find her shoulder as she rocked closer to me, and I kissed some of the sweet exertion off of her shaking body.
And when I leaned up, my body filled hers to the point of her throwing her head back with a loud moan. She came back to, immediately finding my eyes to look at me. A secret smile was on her face. I reciprocated it, letting the quiet moment drown everything else out.
But I snapped my eyes away from hers when she glanced between our bodies, mouth hanging open as she did so. I looked down, enjoying the entire view of her soft body. The movement of her hips, swaying steadily as she straddled me. . .completely mesmerizing.
When I looked back up, she was waiting for me. I found her gaze, and tried my best to memorize every fleck of color in her eyes, glowing in the fading sunlight from the day. The sunset complimented her, making her look like the most magnificent piece of artwork.
Fuck any other so-called famous painting. . .
Y/n put them all to utter shame.
Her eyebrows dipped in, and she kept eye contact with me. I circled my hips, feeling the way her soaking walls enveloped me. Then, I pounded up into her, savoring what I could do from my position below her. She tightened deliciously around me, constricting me in the most immaculate way.
She whined and whimpered, the sound like music to my ears. And I couldn’t help but echo the sound as I felt her release drip down onto me. Her soft body was tense as she finished. She was so tight and warm around me. . .shit.
Enveloped in ecstasy, she threw her head back as she rode out her orgasm on top of me. Even though I couldn’t see her face, I appreciated what I could see. I watched her hips, still rocking against me. The view of her fresh, sweet cum on my dick made me bite my lip.
I knew I was on the verge of release, and no matter how badly I wanted to paint her walls, I pulled out. (I wasn’t ever going to do that to her. She didn’t want it, and I wasn’t about to do it if it wasn’t what she wanted.)
When I pulled myself out of her, I took a brief moment to grab her by the hips and lay her on her back.
Her breasts were round and soft, nipples erect and begging to be covered with my climax from their home on her wet chest.
And as I jerked myself onto them, feeling immediate relief as I came, I briefly glanced up at her face to see her watching the entrancing sight with me.
“Like what you see?” I said, panting with one final pull of my hand against my cock, letting every last bit of me drain onto her.
And as I let go of myself, sighing with exhaustion, I grabbed my shirt from next to her head to wipe her chest clean. She gave me a fucked-out grin. Humming an affirmation to my question, she softly nodded her head with a yawn. Her eyes fluttered closed as she curled up on my bed, her hair fanned out on the pillow. I pulled the sheets and comforter up to rest over her arms, and the smile she sent me as I did so made my heart leap in my chest.
Dammit, she was a fuckin’ dream.
I got up to take a quick shower before the show we had tonight, leaving her to rest in my sheets. She was far too precious to disturb.
I loved the fact that she felt comfortable enough to do that; stay in my bed.
I knew she’d end up coming to the show tonight, and I was hoping her resting now would help her to feel fully awake to be a part of it with me.
She’d been consistent for the past couple of weeks with coming to every single show. I couldn’t help but notice that this whole fuck buddy thing had her wanting to be a part of my life more than before.
Our secret, somehow drawing us closer.
The nagging voice in my head kept reminding me that Josh was there, too, so it was possible it wasn’t all for me. . .but I also knew better and usually told the voice to shut the fuck up.
I wanted to enjoy myself—let myself be happy with her being there and not let pessimistic thoughts get in the way.
It was fucking fantastic when I’d perform, and I’d simultaneously know that she was out there, enjoying every second of it with me. I would never say it to her for fear of freaking her out, but . . .
She was my favorite fan to entertain. The best smile in the crowd for me to look out and see.
Anytime she was there, I knew for a goddamned fact I performed better. She was my lucky charm.
End of Jake’s POV
-🌼🌼🌼-
The rest of July and beginning of August were chock-full of the following: finishing your summer course, working almost double time to make up for Josh’s weird hours. . .and most importantly: fucking Jake Kiszka.
All of the time, as a matter of fact. It had become an almost-daily thing. And you weren’t about to let it change.
Because fuck was it the best sex you’d ever had. Jesus Christ.
You were fine with it being strictly sex. It was good for both of you. He was able to stay focused on his career, and you weren't at risk of getting hurt by him, or distracted from school. It kept lines very clear and thick. Never giving any kind of idea that it could become more. You’d have sex, then go about life like normal. In front of your friends, neither of you ever let anything look even slightly amiss— except for one thing you were sure they’d noticed.
Your relationship had changed from before. . . Friendship, making its grand entrance.
Having sex with Jake had, obviously, given you both several more opportunities to learn each other and bond. . . It had been impossible to not become friends. Being friendly to each other, including in front of everyone else was now the norm, and you really fucking liked it.
Being friends with Jake was honestly great. He wasn’t constantly on the defense anymore. Instead, hopping to your defense a few times.
Whether it be snapping at Sam for making a sideways comment he hadn’t thought of before he’d said it. Or the rando guy at the bowling alley who’d sized you up.
You’d never vocalize the way it would make your tummy flip or the way you’d think about it later when you’d fuck him nice and slow. . . The idea of him defending you, making your heart and body do funny things.
It was just nice to have a good friend.
And it was even more nice knowing you’d, more likely than not, end up in his bed at the end of each day.
But, of course, not letting yourself fall asleep in there as that would definitely blur the nice, comforting, dark lines that’d been drawn.
What you weren’t about to admit was how hard it was for you to leave him at night.
And how cold you’d feel, alone in your bed.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Quiet mornings with him might were the best and the worst.
The ones where you’d sneak into his room, always finding him still-asleep. You’d wake him up by crawling under the covers and slipping the band of his briefs down.
It had become so routine that it was like his cock would wait for you— already hard and the tip emitting the tiniest bit of precum.
Sometimes you’d ride it to wake him up. But, you honestly preferred the other times. . . Where you would let your mouth envelop the crown of his dick, and then the entire shaft in slow, languid strokes of your tongue.
And every time, to your pleasure, it didn’t take long for him to awaken. His tired eyes would open, finding you as he’d wipe the sleepiness from them.
A soft smile, gracing his handsome features.
Then, adding to your bliss, he would take control and fuck you until your toes would curl. The morning birds would chirp outside his window as you’d unravel at his hands, mouth, or thick cock. . . a most ideal start to your day.
Then, when he’d finish, you never found yourself looking at his face. You weren’t sure why, but it intimidated the hell out of you to witness what he looked like when he would unfold. You were sure his features looked the most beautiful they possibly could. . . Even just envisioning the dip of his brow, his mouth falling open as he emptied onto your chest, stomach, or back. . . It felt too intimate.
So, instead, you’d listen to the little noises he’d make, and watch his pretty dick pulse as it would spurt onto your breasts or tummy. The warmth of his release, a surprisingly wonderful feeling on your bare skin.
But the worst part would be after. . .when he’d clean you off with such care. How, after you’d return from the bathroom to refresh, he would be waiting for you, the covers open and an arm, extended and waiting for you to curl into. You would naturally mold to his side, his arm strong as it would help you roll into him. Usually, you’d fall asleep, with your head on his chest and hear his steady heartbeat lull you to sleep.
But, other times, like this morning, you’d sit your chin on top of your hand, resting on his chest. And you’d just. . . talk.
His calloused fingertips would draw mindless shapes on your back and you’d get lost in his chocolate irises.
“What’s your middle name?” He asked, his voice so relaxing in the gray quietness of his bedroom.
You told him, and he got a little glint in his eye. His lips had perked, “That suits you,” he sighed, letting a few fingers curl in your hair. He studied the way his fingers looked in your hair as you watched his pupils dilate in watching the action.
“What’s yours?” You’d wondered aloud.
His eyes found yours again, his brow raising. “Thomas,” he lazily responded.
“Suits you,” you repeated his line. Your eyes squinted with a giggle as he tickled your side just a bit.
“Copycat,” he smiled.
“It does fit you,” you confirmed, more seriously. “Jacob Thomas,” you said, trying the name on your lips.
You couldn’t help but catch how his eyes lit up at the sound. He bent his arm to perch his head up with his free arm, setting his head on the curve of his forearm.
“I like the way it sounds coming from your mouth,” he murmured.
“Say mine,” you requested.
And, he did as you said.
The grin that found its way to your mouth was unstoppable. You loved the way your name sounded with his velvety tone.
You’d never heard it sound so pretty.
For the next ten minutes, it went on like that.
Just little bits and pieces of yourselves, getting shared with the other. Things that didn’t expose your hidden truths, but little surface-level things that helped in knowing the other better.
And when you finally decided to get up and start your day, you stood next to each other as you brushed your teeth. It was sweet. And you felt close to him. You really, really liked it.
But what made it so bad was that you weren’t sure it was okay to feel so close to him. It wasn’t wise to let yourselves get so wrapped up in the other. . . But it felt too nice for the time being to put a stop to it.
You’d always convince yourself that friends did shit like that all the time. How else were you supposed to get to know someone?
So, you let it happen under the guise that it was just friends getting acquainted with each other.
It was just so intimate. . . And what it did to your heart was cruel.
Those quiet moments tempted you, made you want more with him. More you already knew you couldn’t ever have.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Friends was still going on in the background when your eyes opened. All of the lights were still on, and your laptop was balanced on your blanket-covered thigh.
And there was a giant crook in your neck from letting your head roll onto the back of the couch.
You must’ve dozed off in the middle of writing a paper.
Shouldn’t have had those couple glasses of wine. . ., you tiredly thought, going to snuggle back into the couch, in a more comfortable position.
But what caught you off guard was the hand rubbing your arm. The quiet voice, bringing you out of your daze.
“Y/n,” Jake urged, his hand still smoothing up and down your arm. “Come on, babe. Wake up. Let’s get you to bed.”
You huffed, sleep pulling you back. “Don’t want sex right now. Tired.”
He chuckled, his hand still massaging your arm. Then, he was pushing you up to a full sitting position, your head felt dizzy. “I know,” he reassured, his voice calming you down. “I mean, you need to go to bed. Go to sleep.”
You blinked your eyes, squinting in the brightness of the room. “I need to finish my paper.”
“You’re too tired to do that,” he said. “You were out of it when I got back. Finish your paper tomorrow.”
You drooped your head in defeat. “Fine,” you conceded. It took a couple tries of standing up for you to realize you couldn’t do it on your own, and before you could try again, Jake was helping you. “Thanks, Jakey,” you mumbled.
A few more guided steps to your bedroom found you sliding under your already-turned down sheets and down comforter. Jake helped your head find the pillow as you laid down to sleep.
Just as you were about to let sleep totally take you, you jostled with a thought. “Stevie hasn’t eaten yet,” you sleepily fumbled with your covers to get up.
Jake’s hand stopped your actions, “I already fed her,” he assured. “You go to sleep.”
“The TV and lights—.”
“I’ll turn them off,” he pulled the covers up to your chin. “Goodnight.”
Finally, you relented, and just seconds later, as you were about to fade into dreamland again, you stirred.
Too cold. Too lonely.
“Jake?” You called. Not hearing a response, you called again. “Jake?!”
He came back, rushing in with a worried look on his face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
You nestled back under your covers, relaxing knowing that he was near. Your eyes fell shut again. “Lonely,” you mumbled into the pillow.
“What?” He crouched next to your bed, brushing his fingers through your hair. “You’re hungry?”
Irritated, you flicked your eyes open to give him a look. “Lonely.”
“Oh,” he leaned back a bit, his hand falling from your hair. At the motion stopping, you whined, shutting your eyes. He got the hint and started again. “What do you want me to do about that?”
“Lay with me.”
“That’s against the rule—.”
“Not if you just lay with me for a little bit,” you muttered, opening your lids to give him your best puppy dog eyes. “Just until I fall asleep.”
“And what if I accidentally fall asleep?”
“Worry about it in the morning,” you scooted over a little, opening the bed up for him. “Please?”
He sighed before saying, “I need to finish cleaning up real quick. I’ll be back.”
And when he came back, he’d changed into pajama pants, sans a shirt. You nuzzled into his solid chest, and let his breaths be your white noise to get you to sleep.
It was the first night in weeks that you’d slept completely sound, not feeling any worries as you enjoyed a dreamless sleep.
-🌼🌼🌼-
He’d humored you a few times and went to the Black and Gold to look at vinyl with you on days you both had time off.
You’d spend a bit of time browsing, and then take breaks to bicker with each other. Music was still where you occasionally butted heads, but it had turned into the kind of head butting that you enjoyed.
It was a constant battle of challenging each other, and it gave you ample opportunity to defend the music you loved so much.
And more often than not these days . . . The little pokes and prods ended with you two conceding and giving the other person a chance.
Usually, you’d leave the store with a new record in tow that the other had recommended. And then, you’d go home and enjoy the music together, giving it a chance.
Then, normally, you’d end up bent over the couch as he railed you from behind, the records being the most incredible background noise to the moans and groans elicited between the two of you.
After that, the two of you spent and panting with his sweaty chest sticking to your equally sweaty back, you’d decide to order pizza and watch a few episodes of New Girl to finish the night.
-🌼🌼🌼-
“So, explain Baby Dragon.”
You giggled, just closing the K-Cup pod into the Keurig. “What?”
“Your nickname,” he affirmed, coming to stand with his butt pressed against the sink, arms crossed. His face was open, imploring out of mere curiosity.
“They decided to call me that when we started binging Game of Thrones together.”
He nodded. “I knew that part.” He continued, “But why?”
Humming, you took your coffee mug off the Keurig. You tapped your chin, holding the mug in the other hand. “Have you seen Game of Thrones?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “That shit’s right up my alley.”
“So, you know how the baby dragons are small, yet fierce?” You asked, taking a cautious sip of the hot drink. “The guys claimed I was super adorable and cute like them, too. Fuckin’ weirdos.”
It all clicked in his head, a smirk on his features as he nodded. “Duh, Jake,” he said to himself, shaking his head. “That makes so much sense. I don’t know why it didn’t click before.”
“To be fair, it could’ve meant a variety of things.”
He reached an arm above your head, getting his own K-cup and mug down from the cabinet and began his own brew as he eyed you up and down.
“You are fierce,” he agreed. But then he took a hand to your hip, squeezing. “But not quite as small as the baby dragons,” he snaked his hand around to hold a handful of your ass. You felt yourself immediately twitch with need. He leaned down and kissed your lips, his breath fresh from his Crest toothpaste. Your tummy filled with warm fuzzies. “You’re curvier. In all the best fucking ways,” he pulled away and you instantly missed him. He grabbed his coffee off the machine and added sugar.
You’d already started cracking some eggs for breakfast, as he went about getting the toast ready for you.
He placed a strong hand on your stomach, and you leaned into his touch as you scrambled your eggs. You tipped your head back as he swooped your hair to the side to give you a quick kiss on the lips.
Then, he was passing you as he made his way out and to the shower. But on his way out of the kitchen, he stopped to add, “And you’re way fuckin’ cuter.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
It was a steaming hot day in the middle of August when Sam proposed that everyone join him at this AirBnb he had booked.
(It had been a classic, weird Sam thing to book the AirBnb. Literally just getting it to spend the weekend hooking up with a girl he’d recently met.)
About halfway through the day, the sun beating down on all of you, Josh proposed using the little bar off the side of the place. Sam, Daniel, and Sam’s ‘friend’ had heartily agreed. You had as well, and went to get out with everyone else.
But then you heard Jake’s voice, and paused.
“Y/n and I are enjoying the water too much. ‘S hot as fuck,” he had said it loud enough for everyone to give simultaneous ‘okay!’s’ in response. They were all hurriedly making their way to the mini bar, leaving you in the pool.
You’d stopped yourself, still partially out of the pool, halfway up the ladder. Looking back at him, questioning, you found he was blatantly staring at your mostly exposed ass, that was peeking just above the water.
You squinted your eyes at him, as he lounged with his arms on the concrete edge of the pool. He was still sitting where he’d been last time you’d seen him. Sitting on a little ledge beneath the water. His sunglasses pushed down his nose a bit to expose his line of sight, burning into your ass.
And when everyone was out of earshot, you spoke. “Like what you see, Kiszka?”
His eyes snapped to yours when you’d spoken, a smirk gracing his dark features. “Fuck yeah I do,” he nodded his head at you once, signaling you to move. “Come over here.”
And without having to be told twice, you sunk back into the cool water, swimming over to meet him. Never breaking eye contact, you waded slowly and grabbed a noodle to rest your arms and breasts on as you floated over.
He continued on as you got close. “Did you have to wear the tiniest swimsuit you own?”
You looked bashful, but your smile was flirty. “Oh, you think it’s too small? Should I get rid of it?”
When you were close enough, he reached out a hand to pull you into him by your pool noodle.
He spoke softly in your ear. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”
Your skin blazed, you whispered in his exposed ear, his hair tucked behind it. “Why?”
He grabbed the noodle out from under your chest and threw it over the edge of the pool, landing with a flop on the pavement. And when he could, he grabbed you smoothly by your waist, into his crotch.
And you were suddenly able to feel why. He was hard against you, making your legs weak and your pussy flutter. He was smug, his sunglasses still pushed down as you matched his stare and met his boldness by wrapping your legs around him.
You used your new position to rock your hips into his, the pool waving out around you just a bit as you did so.
“You better be careful,” he said softly, his grip going to your round ass, your bottoms leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
You tensed, gasping when you felt his fingers toy with the string of your bikini bottoms.
“The more noise you make, the sooner they’ll come back,” he swiftly untied one of the strings, exposing you to the water. The coldness made you hiss through your teeth. “Mm,” he hummed. “Cold, baby? Let me warm you up.”
A finger slipped inside of you and you had to bite your lip to hide the moan dying to leave your lips. You felt his finger slip in and out, in and out, getting closer to hitting your secret spot every time it would reenter. You wrapped an arm around his neck. “Your finger?” You asked haughtily, breathing heavy. “Was expecting mor—.”
You couldn’t hide the gasp as the one finger changed to two, plunging into you, his thumb drawing circles against your hard clit. “Better, princess?”
Changing from one arm around his neck to two, you thrusted into his fingers, rolling your hips to match his thumb on your clit. The water waved around you. Gripping his hair, you looked into his sunglasses, now pushed back up, his eyes blazing through the tinted lenses. Your body was shaking, but you weren’t going to cum like this.
You knew what you wanted right now and it wasn’t his fingers.
“Too scared to use your dick?” You challenged him.
He momentarily removed his fingers, roughly bringing you back to feel his thick, clothed shaft. Your bare folds pulsed at the feeling of him so close to you. You felt him twitch underneath you.
“What’s stopping you, Jakey?” You reached one hand, one arm keeping your balance to thrust into him, to play with the hem of his black trunks. “Afraid they’ll see?”
He replaced his fingers in you again, flexing them once again, this time meeting your g-spot. You exhaled above him, your body tensing. “Are you?” He questioned, seeming to genuinely wonder. “You don’t want them to know. I'm just trying to respect your rules, sweetheart,” he used the nickname, but his tone was anything but sweet, dripping with sarcasm.
You didn’t take the time to respond, stopping your movements briefly, and looking behind your shoulder to check if the coast was clear. You couldn’t even hear them anymore. They were gone for the time being. If you moved swiftly enough. . .
He looked disappointed for a second, but you couldn’t see what else his face did as you acted on your quick, risky idea, holding your nose to plunge underwater and pull his bottoms down, his hips moving up immediately to help you. You took no time to sink your wet mouth over his smooth cock. It wasn’t as heavy as you were used to on your tongue, the water helping with some sort of anti-gravity shit.
There was a hand in your hair, pushing you down onto him. You knew he’d like it. Keeping your nose pinched, you reached the other hand, slowly through the water, to wrap at his base, squeezing him. Your tongue licked long stripes on the underside of his dick, savoring it and meeting his head every time you squeezed him with your hand.
But you didn’t keep that way for long, needing to breathe. You pulled his bottoms almost all the way back up, but left his dick out. When you re-emerged, smoothing your hair back, you took a good look at his face, seeing his mouth hanging open.
Ha, gotcha, you thought, deviously. Just you wait, baby.
When you came back to him you took zero time as you reached below the water to find his length. You positioned yourself over it, quickly sinking onto him, ready to get this over with before people came back. But as your walls fluttered around him, you wished you were alone.
He felt so damn good. Fuck.
You wiggled your hips, the smallest whine escaping your lips at how well he filled you up. This caused his head to roll to the side the slightest bit, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Feel good?” You teased, rocking your hips on top of his thick cock. “We’ve gotta make this quick, so help a girl out.”
You shouldn’t have said anything, because as soon as the words left your mouth, he was grasping your hips, leveling himself to slam up into you.
The loud moan that left your mouth was unavoidable, and you clasped a hand over your mouth to keep your noises hushed.
He raised his hips as forcefully as he could with the weight of the water, lifting you up and down a few times, and you matched him with measured rolls of your hips.
Without any warning, he pulled a triangle of your swim top to the side to see a tit as they bounced with each thrust. He leaned forward a bit, licking a circle around your nipple and then grasped your boob in his strong hand as he pumped with merciless rhythm into you.
“Fuck,” you moaned through your hand. Your breast was still tingling from where he licked it. But now you had the friction from his palm against your nipple, combined with his movements. . . And it was too much. You removed your hand, leaning to whisper in his ear. “More, Jake.”
And, without relenting even a bit, he started giving you exactly what you asked for. It was slightly painful, but it was what you needed at that moment.
You started groaning into his ear, feeling his thickness slide smoothly within you. Sensing your need, he slipped a thumb between you to rub even circles against your bundle of nerves. The steady circles, along with the erratic thrusts of his dick into you, sent you spiraling, quick.
Knowing you well, he pushed your mouth into his sweat-drenched neck. Your tongue found the saltiness of his skin, kissing his neck to mask the noises that left you, your legs quivering as you finished.
Just as soon, he was pulling himself out of you, and lifting his bottoms back up to cum behind the black material.
You dunked beneath the water to cool off, and to your happy surprise, he joined you, his sunglasses off. Looking into his eyes for as long as you could, you sent him a little grin, going to lift back up. But before you could, he grabbed you swiftly behind your neck and met your lips underwater.
As soon as you parted, you were rising back up, pushing your hair back as he placed his sunglasses over his eyes again.
And, as if on cue, you heard feet scuttling back to the pool just as you were adjusting your top and re-tying your bottoms above water.
“Drinks!” Josh sang to you both. He handed both you and Jake your respective beverages. You sipped yours, and Jake took a healthy swig of beer as soon as they were placed in your hands.
“This is fucking delicious,” you commented. “What is it?”
“Pineapple Upside Down,” Sam’s girl-thing responded, sipping her own.
You hummed, nodding.
Taking another drink, you went to sit it down on the pool when Danny piped up. “Whatever the hell you guys were playing while we were gone. . . We’re in.”
You went silent, not even daring to look over at Jake. Though, you could hear as he started choking on his drink.
“So much splashing!” Sam added. “It sounded fun!”
“Sunken Treasure, I’m sure,” Josh chimed in, grabbing the sinking stick from the ledge next to his long-haired twin. “You guys know Jake loves that game.”
The other two gave sounds of agreement. Your belly flipped.
Letting yourself look over at Jake, he was looking at Josh, nodding, trying his best to look convincing. “Hell yeah,” he piped up. “It’ll be more fun with more people though.”
“Well then. . .let’s play!” Josh yelled, excited. His new curls, sopping wet and sticking to his forehead as he threw the stick into the water.
Before you started playing, you sent a secret glance to your roommate, who was already smirking over at you.
Your cheeks heated, getting a thrill at how oblivious all of your friends were to what you had truly been “playing.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
You were with Theo at a coffee shop, studying for the final in your summer course, when the first email came in.
The first email that signaled the end of summer. The usual “Welcome Back!” email which included too many campus announcements and upcoming events. . .
Your heart sunk when you saw it come in.
Deep in your gut, you knew that this was what you’d been dreading since starting things with Jake.
Real life getting in the way of summer and the fun you’d been having with Jake.
You didn’t know why, but this email seemed to scream at you that you needed to get your shit together.
And, as hard as it was, you were going to try your damndest to ignore the voice in your head for the time being. It was the same aggravating, pessimistic voice that bothered you consistently by speaking so-called reason into your life.
(The same, familiar one that’d looked out for you as you’d grieved your mother leaving you as a little girl.)
This time, it felt as though the voice was also telling you that when school started, it would be time to cut things off with Jake.
It’s not a smart decision to start your senior year distracted, y/n, it chided.
But you didn’t want to listen to that fucking voice.
Not yet.
Summer wasn’t over. And you weren’t about to let the damned nagging voice end your fun (and newfound, genuine happiness) too soon.
-🌼🌼🌼-
You came home from studying, close to tears. It was ridiculous. There was no reason to be so sad about all of this ending. It was literally just sex. You could get it elsewhere.
But I don’t want it elsewhere, you thought. I only want it with Jake. Fuck. Why?
If you thought about it long enough, you’d let yourself see why. But you weren’t about to do that. Hell no.
To your surprise, while you were feeding Stevie, you felt a tear hit your hand.
You groaned, wiping furiously under your eyes, pressing your palms to your heated cheeks. “Stupid,” you told yourself, hearing your voice was thick with tears.
Just as you felt another tear leave your eye, the front door opened.
You tried to turn before Jake could see you, but Stevie came up to your leg, purring to comfort you before you could. Shit.
“Y/n?” He said, placing a comforting hand on your back. Hesitantly, you looked up at him through your tears. Why were you crying so fucking much? “You okay, baby?”
The pet name was the final straw, and instead of it making you angry with him that he’d said it, it sent you curling into his arms.
Letting your tears soak his shirt, you cried out of ridiculous sadness that you’d have to say goodbye to this thing you had with him soon. Too soon.
You couldn’t keep it. You would never let whatever this was distract either of your paths. And you knew eventually it would. Better to end it before that ever happened.
But not yet.
And, as always, you were set on it not being something to lose your best friend over. If Josh were to find out of it happening, you knew his trust would be completely betrayed.
This wasn’t something that was meant to last. You’d known that from the beginning. So why was it feeling so hard to face right now?
Because you’re finally feeling true happiness and trust with someone new—someone special— for the first time in years, the sweet, comforting voice in your head spoke. Because he is something special and you know it.
You continued to feel Jake, running his fingers through your hair, rubbing your back in comforting strokes. “Shhh,” he soothed. You raised your head from his chest and he used his thumbs to wipe away the excess tears. When eventually you’d caught your breath, he asked. “What happened?”
Looking up at him, you found his brow furrowed in concern. You couldn’t fully tell him what you were actually upset about. Absolutely not.
Moving away from him the slightest bit to gain your bearings, you sniffed a few times. “Just intimidated by what’s to come, I guess,” you said, not lying. Just not giving the whole truth. “Not ready for life to change with senior year and stuff.”
He lifted his lips in a reassuring grin, his eyes full of empathy for your current state. “I get that,” he said, his raspy voice ever-soothing. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, smoothing your cheek in the process. “But surely it won’t be too bad, right?”
You had to bite your lip to keep another sob from breaking loose. Sniffing the tears back, you nodded, slapping a fake smile on your face. “Yeah. Not too bad.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
a/n: as the saying goes, good things don't always last forever. . . next chapter will bring some changes for our precious y/n and jake . . . what do you think those changes will be?
please, as always, don't hesitate to reach out! i love, love, love hearing from you all! your feedback means the world to me <3
if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!
& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)
I was planning to have the first part of Unexpected posted by Monday, but I was just given a super awesome opportunity that could get me into media writing for the music industry that’s taken priority
HOWEVER
You can expect it by this weekend and who knows- I might even just give you two parts 🤷♀️
While TFT is still ongoing, unfortunately it’s been put on a hiatus. Rest assured, if you filled out the taglist form, you’ll get an update when it’s posted. ❤️
(also the hype before it’s posted will be hard to ignore but that’s just me)
TW: Language. Your name (female) + Jake. 6,339 words.
The song "If It Kills Me" by Jason Mraz inspired me to write this story; each part of the story is inspired by a different part of the song.
Part One
"It would be such a beautiful moment to see the look on your face,
To know that I know that you know now.
And baby that's a case of my wishful thinking.
You know nothing." - JM
You’re sending me one-worded texts. You’re probably busy. At least that’s what I’m telling myself because why else would you be responding like you’re mad at me? I haven’t done anything to make you angry. If you knew I was spiraling and overthinking like this, you’d probably throw in an emoji, a gif, something to ease my mind. I decided to stop dwelling on the “ok” and “lol” replies and put my phone away. I’m clearly distracted and the last thing I need is Danny getting angry if I throw the tempo off again.
“Let’s run through that one more time,” Josh said into the microphone. I normally am the serious one who takes control of our practices, but I wasn’t feeling it today. We were going on four hours of rehearsal for our upcoming tour. I was exhausted because I stayed up too late, but that’s the sacrifice you make when the love of your life lives in a different time zone. I listened to Danny count us in, “One, two, three, four,” and began playing my guitar. I tried to focus on the music but thoughts of you kept creeping in.
When rehearsal finally ended, I checked my phone hoping to see your name on my screen. Nope. You left me on read. Thousands of notifications plague my screen but the one notification I was looking for was nonexistent. I started replaying the last parts of our conversation last night; if you were mad at me for something I said, I truly couldn’t remember. I put my phone in my back pocket and finished packing my stuff up for the day. We had to be back bright and early tomorrow, so thankfully I didn’t have to pack up all of my pedals and amps.
“What are you doing tonight?” Sam asked as he held out a ruby grapefruit White Claw to me.
“It’s barely 2:00 in the afternoon, man,” I said as I waved his offer away. “Uh, I’m probably going to take it easy tonight and stay in.”
“That’s what you did last night,” Sam said as he shifted his weight to his other foot. He was clearly bummed that I wasn’t up for hanging out.
“Yeah, well, I’m trying to savor my nights at home before I spend them all on the road,” I said with a shrug. I loved touring and playing music more than anything, but I also loved sleeping in my own bed. I just wished you were here to share it with me.
“If you change your mind, call me,” he said as he placed the unopened White Claw down near my boot. He walked away before I could respond. I stared at the can and then grabbed it before walking out to the parking lot.
When I got home, I took a quick shower and laid on the couch scrolling through the pictures in my camera roll. Our social media team has made several remarks lately that my Instagram was too “dry” and our fans were begging for more content from me. I never really pay much attention to the demands of keeping up an online presence on social media. I scrolled back to March of this year and smiled as I looked at the pictures from our quick trip to the beach. It was the last time we were able to spend time together as just the two of us. We spent four days secluded from the outside world in a condo in Santa Barbara. It was the highlight of my year. I found a picture you took of me when I was staring out into the sunset. My jeans were rolled up to my shins to keep from getting wet as the waves rolled in. I remember the water was so cold I thought my toes were going to turn black. You don’t smoke anymore, but you took a hit (or two) on the joint hanging out of my mouth. I didn’t know you took the picture of me at the time, but I’m thankful you did. If only you knew that at that moment I was cursing the sun for leaving and robbing us of another day together.
The night passed by quickly. I still hadn’t heard from you and I was trying not to worry. It wasn’t like we were always in constant contact with our busy work schedules, but you should have texted me by now. I was fighting my eyelids to stay awake. I knew you had been working night shifts at the hospital recently, but I knew you were off. Our three-hour time difference really made things difficult for my sleep schedule. While it was almost 2 a.m. for me, I knew you would be awake and scrolling through your plethora of social media apps before getting ready for bed.
I had an idea that normally worked when I needed a desperate way to grab your attention. I opened my Instagram app for the first time in weeks and hit the plus sign to make a post. I scrolled back to the picture you took of me on the beach and typed the caption, “The fleeting daylight gave me liberation though I longed for staying a captive on the sand.” I hit send and waited for the trap I set to work. I knew you had my Instagram notifications turned on.
I chuckled as I read the comments from fans who always posted the most unhinged shit. Even though my motive was to get a response from you, I still enjoyed reading the interesting comments. And as if I knew you better than you knew yourself, I suddenly was on the receiving end of your FaceTime call.
“Hey,” I said as I propped the phone up on the pillow next to me. I fought the urge to display a smug smile.
“You have a typo in your Instagram caption,” you said. You had a toothbrush hanging out the side of your mouth and your hair was wrapped up in a towel.
“Do I?” I asked, playing dumb. Any time I needed a response from you, posting a typo on social media worked 9 times out of 10. Josh just thinks I’m an idiot at this point.
“It doesn’t even make sense,” you said as you leaned down to spit off camera.
“Fine, I’ll fix it,” I said as I reopened the app to make an edit to the caption.
“You could have at least given me photographer credits,” you said. I fixed the typo and opened your FaceTime back so I could see your beautiful face full screen. You weren’t paying me any attention as you were doing your nighttime skincare routine. I didn’t care because I was still able to admire you.
“You and I both know the insanity that would ensue if I tagged you in anything,” I said with a sigh.
“That’s true,” you said.
“I miss the beach,” I said but fought to replace beach with the word you. Though, you would have seen it all over my face if you were looking at me.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t talk much today,” you said.
“I was beginning to think you were mad at me,” I admitted.
“Why would I be mad at you?” you asked as you suddenly stopped rubbing moisturizer into your skin. You stopped looking at yourself in the mirror and stared at your phone–stared at me. I tried to remember what I was saying.
“I–uh–well, you know, you didn’t respond for hours, and uh, when you did, it was um–” I knew I was tripping over my words. I felt my face getting warm because I was flustered.
“I’m not mad at you, Jake. At least not at the moment,” you said with a wink.
“You know I get into my head sometimes,” I said as I smoothed my hair back.
“Better than anyone. Ok, well, I wanted to pop on real quick to tell you good night,” you said. I could tell you were about to wrap up the call. I hated saying goodbye but I needed to sleep too.
“Good night, y/n” I said as I watched you finish drying your hair.
“Good night, Jake,” you said before hanging up.
“I love you,” remained silently on my lips.
Part Two
"Well you and I,
Why, we go carrying on for hours on end.
We get along much better,
Than you and your boyfriend." - JM
“You look like shit,” Josh said. Once again, another sleepless night robbed me of any rest and relaxation before another full morning of rehearsal. Thoughts of you mixed with anticipation for the new tour had my mind racing.
“Yeah, well, we’re twins,” I said as I stirred my coffee. “So, I guess you look like shit too.” I was fighting the urge to add a little whiskey to it if this was how practice was going to go.
“This is the last practice of the week, so let’s not fuck around and waste any time today,” he added.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I questioned. I didn’t like what he was implying.
“It means get your head out of your ass and finish your coffee so we can get started,” he said. I could sense Josh was angry about something, but there was no telling with him. The smallest inconvenience could set him off. I bit my tongue and let him have his moment of misdirected anger. I finished my cup of coffee and started to plug in my guitar.
“Yesterday we stopped after ‘Frozen Light’ so let’s move on through the rest of the set list,” I said.
“Well, then you’re plugging in the wrong guitar,” Josh said. Confused, I glanced at the taped setlist on my side of the stage and realized our B stage performance was next.
“Oh, yeah,” I said.
“You would know that if you paid any attention yesterday,” Josh said under his breath.
“What the fuck is your problem this morning?” I asked.
“Guys,” Sam said as he stepped in to diffuse the situation. That’s what the three of us did. Whoever was the one outside of the conflict always stepped in to help calm the other two down. But truth be told, it was normally Sam who worked as the middle man. “I’m not acting as the rope for your game of tug-of-war today.” My heart strings pulled a little for my younger brother as I threw my cup of coffee in the trash.
Rehearsal went by a lot quicker today than it did yesterday. I’m sure it was because anger fueled me not to waste a single moment of time so I didn’t have to be here any longer than I had to be. I was looking forward to a couple days off. I wondered if I could make a quick trip to California to see you this weekend.
“Hey,” I heard Josh’s voice from behind me. I continued to pack up my stuff instead of turning around to face him.
“I’m sorry, Jake,” he said. I stopped messing with my cords and sighed before turning around.
“It’s ok,” I said when I met his eyes.
“I’m stressed about the tour and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” he said. Any ounce of anger I had instantly evaporated. I could tell he needed a hug so I pulled him in. Normally he was the one to initiate physical contact, but I knew what he needed.
“Are you sticking around here for the weekend?” I asked as I let go of our embrace.
“I’m not sure. What about you?” Josh responded.
“I may explore the west coast for a couple days,” I said, rubbing my chin.
“Jake…” Josh’s voice sounded like a warning.
“What?” I asked. He sighed and shook his head, clearly not saying what he wanted to say.
“Tell y/n I said hi,” he said.
“I never said I was going to see her,” I said.
“You didn’t have to,” he added.
“It’s not a good weekend,” you said. Your words immediately broke my heart and I struggled to hold the phone in my hand. I called to see if I could come stay and visit because I hadn’t seen you in nearly three months.
“I thought you said you were off most of this week,” I said, trying to mask the sadness in my voice.
“I am,” you said.
“So why can’t I come? I miss the beach. I miss you,” the words escaped my mouth before I realized it.
“I have plans this weekend,” you said. I could tell you didn’t want to volunteer any more information and that I was going to have to ask to get any details.
“One day on the beach with me is all I ask,” I practically begged.
“Nathan and I are going out of town,” you said. There it was. The reason you were being so short and vague. You knew how I felt about him; I just wish you knew how I felt about you.
“He’s still around?” I asked.
“Jake, I’m not having this conversation again,” you said. I could hear the frustration in your voice.
“Where are you guys going?” I asked. I really didn’t want to know any details because I didn’t want to think about Nathan any more than I had to. I was struggling to play nice.
“He’s taking me to his parents’ house in Malibu,” you said. I felt my chest tighten.
“You’re meeting his parents?” I asked.
“Yes, Jake. Is that ok with you?” you asked sarcastically.
“You know you don’t need my permission for anything. I can’t say the same for Nathan,” I added. I tasted the bitterness of my insult. You didn’t immediately respond so I knew my words made an impact. I then heard you speaking but I couldn’t tell what you were saying. The sound was muffled as if your hand was covering the phone.
“Hello?” I asked. I continued listening to the muffled conversation and realized he was currently there with you. I couldn’t make out what you two were saying but I was growing more and more frustrated by the second. “Y/n?” I asked again, hoping for a response, but I continued to sit on the metaphorical back burner.
“Sorry about that,” you said. “Hey, I’ve got to finish packing but I will call you tomorrow.”
“Sure, of course. I will talk to you tomorrow,” I said as you ended the call.
I made myself a drink and debated calling one of the guys to come over and hangout. It was only 8:00 p.m. but I felt the exhaustion from the last two days taking its toll on me. Well, the tequila in my drink probably didn’t help. I figured I should take advantage of some extra hours of sleep. I polished off my glass and slowly shuffled to my bedroom. I put my phone on the charger and collapsed into my bed. For once, I didn’t have to lie awake as I slowly sunk into the pillow.
Part Three
"How long, can I go on like this,
Wishing to kiss you
Before I rightly explode?
Well this double life I lead isn't healthy for me.
In fact, it makes me nervous.
If I get caught, I could be risking it all." - JM
I didn’t realize that I slept for over 14 hours when I rolled over to check the time on my phone. Both my body and my mind really needed to rest. I scrolled through the notifications on my screen with tired eyes until I spotted two missed calls from you. As if you were a shot of espresso, I was immediately awake. You didn’t leave me a voicemail but you had called me at what would be 1 a.m. your time. I sat up straight and nervously called you back.
“Hello?” you answered on the first ring. Your voice sounded strange.
“Hey, I’m sorry I missed your calls last night. What’s going on?” I asked.
“If you’re still wanting to come to California, I’m free,” you said.
“I’ll be on the next flight,” I said as I hurried to get out of bed.
“Thanks, Jake,” you said. I could tell you were on the verge of tears, so I decided not to press for any details yet. We could talk it out once I got there.
I landed in Santa Barbara just after 7 p.m. and headed through the small California airport. It was surprisingly easy finding a last-minute flight, but it wasn’t easy getting through the airport. Even today, I am still taken aback by the attention I receive from fans. I texted you to find out where to meet you and made my way down the escalator. I was only staying for two nights so I threw everything I needed into my backpack. I can travel light. I waited outside and kept my head down until I saw your car rolling up. To my surprise, Nathan was in the passenger seat. I felt sick. You immediately jumped out of the car and ran straight to me. I wanted to pick you up and spin you around, but I knew that would not make a great first impression with your boyfriend.
“I’m so happy to see you!” you squealed as I lingered in your welcoming embrace. Everything I had planned to say to you was no longer relevant now that he was here.
“I’m happy to be here,” I said as you finally let go. I could feel Nathan staring at us but I kept my eyes locked on your beautiful face. Your naturally long eyelashes fluttered and I swore I stopped breathing.
“Are you hungry?” you asked.
“Famished, actually,” I said, realizing all I’ve eaten today were the free snacks the airline gives you.
“Good because I made lasagna,” you said as you stood on your tiptoes.
“Did you follow your famous recipe?” I asked.
“From a box?” you asked with a laugh.
“Shh, we pretend, remember?” I asked. Before you could respond, we both jumped at the sound of your car horn. Nathan’s impatience seemed to get the best of him. I grinded my teeth before taking a deep breath. So much for first impressions.
“Come on,” you said as you rolled your eyes and laughed. I relaxed my fingers, which I didn’t realize were balled up into a fist, before following you to your car. I slid into the backseat and channeled my inner Josh so I could act like I was excited about meeting Nathan.
“Hey, man. I’m Jake,” I said, sticking my arm out to shake his hand. He turned around and looked at me like I was covered in dirt.
“Hello, Jake,” he said, finally grabbing my hand unenthusiastically. “I’m Dr. Turner.” Give me a break. You got into the car and smiled when you saw us shaking hands.
“Oh good, I didn’t have to do the introductions,” you said with a wink.
I learned your weekend trip to Malibu was canceled when Nathan–or Dr. Turner–found out he needed to be on call at the hospital last minute. I could tell you were disappointed, but I’m not sure if that was the reason you sounded like you were crying on the phone this morning. I made a mental note to ask you about it when we had some privacy. I knew Nathan was staying for dinner but I was praying to whatever God who was listening that he wouldn’t be staying the night as well. I needed alone time with you.
When we got back to your place, I made my way to your guest room to put my backpack up. I checked in with the guys to let them know I had made it safely to your place. I guess news of me being in California was all over Twitter and Instagram because our social media manager sent me screenshots of some pictures I took with fans in the airport. I knew we’d have to lay low now that I was here to keep your identity hidden. The last thing you or I needed were pictures of us circulating online with rumors. I started to make my way out of the bedroom when I stopped in the doorway. I could hear you and Nathan having what sounded like an argument, and I didn’t want to interrupt. I leaned in closer to the hallway to eavesdrop.
“He can’t get a hotel room?” Nathan asked.
“I’m not making my best friend stay in a hotel,” you said as you closed the oven door.
“He can afford it,” he said with a scoff.
“I don’t concern myself with other people’s finances, Nathan. You know that. People could say the same thing about me dating a doctor,” you said. I rolled my eyes.
“I just don’t like the idea of another guy staying the night with you,” he said.
“He’s not staying with me. He’s sleeping in another room. Plus I’ve known Jake almost my entire life. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve slept under the same roof,” you said.
“I would feel more comfortable if I were here too,” he said. I felt my blood start to boil.
“Please trust me, Nathan. I’ve never given you a reason not to,” you said. I couldn’t handle listening any longer so I made my way out of the hallway and walked into the kitchen. When you saw me, you pulled away from Nathan. I’m not sure if you noticed–but both he and I did. I’m sure that unconscious movement only fueled his insecurities even more.
Dinner went better than one would expect. It appears everyone–including myself–is a great actor. One would have never guessed Nathan didn’t want me there with the way he was asking me questions about my life with the band. If I didn’t know half of what I already knew about him, I’d think he was a pretty good guy. You beamed watching the two of us converse. I gazed at your full lips across the table as they broke into a smile. I wanted nothing more than to kiss them.
“Nothing like a home-cooked meal,” you said with a laugh. I gave you a soft smile.
“Stouffer’s is a specialty with this one,” Nathan said, pulling you into a side hug. “I’m hoping she’ll learn her way around a kitchen eventually.”
“I will take anything that’s not fast food at this point,” I said. I stared at the glass mason jar of strawberry lemonade you so kindly made AKA mixed Crystal Light with water. I knew you had a busy schedule at the hospital and worked so hard as a nurse. And I knew you had to fend a lot for yourself growing up. I was just proud that you made a life for yourself and lived unapologetically. I didn’t care that you never took an interest in cooking. You never tried to be anyone but yourself and I loved that about you.
“Well, it would be nice to have something that wasn’t full of preservatives every once in a while,” Nathan said with a laugh. I looked up to meet his eyes and if looks could kill, he’d be a goner. You sensed my sudden change in mood and laughed at his joke–a laugh that you and I both knew was fake and forced.
“I’m a great cook, actually. What about you Nathan?” I said.
“A man’s place doesn’t belong in the kitchen. Plus, I’m too busy with surgeries and–” he was saying.
“The 1900s called. They want their sexist views back,” I joked. You let out a wild laugh, one that was so not fake. I watched Nathan squirm in his seat before forcing a smile. Before he could respond, the ringing of his work phone distracted us.
“Great,” he muttered before excusing himself from the table. When he was out of the room, you and I locked eyes and you started that wild laugh again.
“Jacob Thomas Kiszka, you are horrible,” you said. I loved when you used my full name.
“What kind of backwards ideology is that?” I asked. I wasn’t joking anymore.
“He was raised differently,” you said, smoothing the napkin in your lap.
“Does he call his mom Mother? Be honest,” I said, biting my lip to keep from laughing.
“Jake…” you said.
“Holy shit, he does!” I exclaimed. We both were laughing hysterically when Nathan came back into the room.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Jake just told me a funny story,” you said nervously.
“I like to laugh,” Nathan said as he joined us at the table.
“Do you have to leave, darling?” you asked. I could taste the bile in my throat after hearing you call him that.
“Yeah, here in a second. I want to hear this hilarious story first,” he said as he met my stare.
“It’s really an inside joke. You wouldn’t–” you started.
“I’m waiting,” Nathan said, not breaking my eye contact. Just then, I fantasized about stabbing him in the neck with the fork in my hand.
“I was telling y/n the story about how Josh–that’s my brother–sometimes acts in his diva persona,” I was trying to come up with something on the fly. I’m sure anyone with a brain would know I was lying, but I kept going. “And when he’s this super bitch–his words–he makes life hell for us all.”
“And that’s…funny?” Nathan asked.
“If you knew him, yes,” I said.
“Right. Well, I’ve been called in for surgery. Another with cirrhosis of the liver. They’re a dime a dozen nowadays,” Nathan said. It was hard to believe he was talking about another human life. I wouldn’t want someone who didn’t see value in another person’s soul operating on me. He wouldn’t give a shit if I lived or died. I’d be just another body on the operating table to him. “That’s why I’ve encouraged y/n to stop drinking. Nasty stuff. Jake, you should consider it too.”
“Thanks for the medical advice, doc,” I said.
“I’m serious. Alcohol is poison. But then again, so are all of the preservatives we consume in our instant lemonades and frozen lasagnas, so what the hell do I know?” he laughed. Nobody laughed along with him this time.
“I’ll walk you out,” you said as you pushed yourself away from the table. I wasn’t sure if you were needing a break from yet another one of his passive aggressive insults, or if you were trying to get him away from me before I did something that would put me behind bars for the rest of my life.
Part Four
"If I should be so bold,
I'd ask you to hold my heart in your hand.
I'd tell you from the start how I longed to be your man.
But I never said a word,
I guess I'm gonna miss my chance again." - JM
We spent the rest of the evening sitting on your couch and catching up. We talked every day but having this time with you in person felt completely different. You wanted to know everything about our new tour and I could feel the excitement radiating off of you.
“Will you be there opening night?” I asked.
“You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you said. “I have a confession.”
“Oh?” I asked as I moved closer to you.
“I have a bottle of tequila stashed in the cabinet above the refrigerator,” you whispered.
“You know how I feel about alcohol, and don’t even get me started on preservatives,” I said sarcastically. You threw a pillow at me before jumping up to grab it. I watched you climb on top of your kitchen counter to be able to reach your hidden contraband. You jumped down off the counter and ran back to join me on the couch with the forbidden bottle of tequila tucked under your arm.
“If you can guess my favorite song off the new album, I will take a shot. If you get it wrong, you have to take a shot,” you said, holding the bottle out to me.
“So I have a 90% chance of taking a shot,” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“The odds are definitely in my favor,” you said with a laugh. I studied your face for a moment. I wanted to tell you how you were the inspiration for my most favorite song that I’ve ever written. Josh heard it once and knew it belonged on the album. I wanted to explain how my time on the beach with you earlier this year inspired the story behind the song. Every word, every line to the song “Waited All Your Life” was written about you. You were the song. But how could I ever admit that?
“Runway Blues?” I guessed. I knew it wouldn’t be it. And for a moment, I swear a look of disappointment flashed across your face for a brief moment.
“Nope! Take a shot!” you said as you proudly held the bottle to me.
“What was the right answer?” I asked as I unscrewed the lid. I put the bottle to my lips and wondered when it touched yours last.
“‘Waited All Your Life’ is my favorite,” you said with a soft smile. I felt my chest tighten at your admission and took a shot of tequila straight from the bottle.
“Mine too,” I said so quietly I wondered if you even heard me. “Hey, can we go to the beach tomorrow? Just the two of us?”
“Yeah, that sounds perfect,” you said as you grabbed the bottle from me. You took a shot and I envied the bottle that got to kiss your lips.
After talking and laughing for several hours on the couch, you got a text from Nathan that the surgery went well and he was headed home for the night.
“Home as in…?” I asked.
“Home as in his own home. We don’t live together, Jake,” you said as you looked up at me under your lashes.
“I know, I know,” I said as I sighed with relief. You screwed the lid back on the bottle of tequila before climbing back up to stash it away for another time. When you came back into the living room, you stood at the end of the couch and yawned. Unfortunately, I knew what was coming.
“I think we should call it a night,” you said. I didn’t want this night to end. Carpe noctem.
“Yeah, I’m pretty tired,” I lied.
“Don’t set an alarm. Sleep in and we’ll go to the beach whenever we feel like it tomorrow,” you said. I didn’t want to sleep at all. I didn’t want to waste a single moment when I’m here with you.
“Ok, sounds like a plan,” I said as I stood up. I walked closer to you and I watched you suck in a breath.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” you said quietly.
“Me too,” I said as I wrapped my arms around you.
“Good night, Jake,” you said.
“Good night, y/n,” I whispered.
After my shower, I laid on the bed in the guest bedroom and stared at the ceiling fan for what felt like an eternity. Thoughts of you, thoughts of us, thoughts of Nathan, the beach, tequila, and your song clouded my mind. I wanted to get out of bed and knock on your bedroom door. I wanted to admit every thought and feeling I’ve hidden from you for years. I wanted to admit how I’ve kept this secret from you for so long and it kills me nearly every day. I wanted to cry and scream and then cry some more. I wanted to hold you. But I just laid there and stared at the ceiling fan as the blades moved in a perfect rotation. Maybe tomorrow I’d admit these things to you. Maybe when we’re on the beach I’d finally find courage amongst the waves. I closed my eyes and let the hope for tomorrow guide my dreams for tonight.
Part Five
"And all I really want to do is to feel you.
It's a feeling inside that keeps building.
I will find a way to you if it kills me.
If it kills me.
It might kill me." - JM
I helped unload your adirondack chairs from the back of your car when we found a spot on the beach that was secluded from both the locals and the tourists. There was a walk-up bar not too far from us, but still far enough away that we felt like we were the only two people on the beach. I kept my sunglasses on as I faced the ocean, admiring the sunlight reflecting off the water. I watched you apply your sunscreen and waited for you to ask me to help you apply it to your back and neck.
“Do you mind helping?” you asked, turning away from me and moving your hair to the side. I grabbed the bottle and started to rub the lotion on your back. I took my time because I wanted to feel every inch of your soft skin.
“Can I ask you a question?” I asked as I continued rubbing the sunscreen on your shoulders. I finally felt enough courage to ask about the phone call since I couldn’t see your eyes.
“Always,” you said.
“When I talked to you on the phone yesterday morning… You sounded like you were crying,” I quietly admitted. I waited for you to say something but the silence lingered in the air.
“I was,” you said.
“Why?” I asked.
“I don’t really want to talk about it, Jake,” you said as you dropped your head. I stared at the back of your neck waiting for the right words to come to me.
“You know you can talk to me about anything,” I said.
“I know,” you said. I put my hands on your shoulders and pulled for you to turn to face me. When you met my eyes, I could see they were hiding something.
“Y/n, what’s bothering you?” I asked. You sighed as you put your sunglasses on, attempting to camouflage your emotions.
“Nathan and I got into an argument that night and I called you in the heat of the moment. But we worked it out by the time you called me back the next morning. I was still upset and just needed to see my best friend,” you said as you reached out to squeeze my hand. “I miss you so much.”
“Loving a music man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be,” I sang a line from one of your favorite Journey songs as I let your hand stay in mine. I knew what I had to do to make you smile.
“Oh, girl, you stand by me,” you sang playfully. You loved when I sang, especially when it was a song off of your comfort playlist.
“I’m forever yours,” I sang back to you, meaning every word I said.
“Faithfully,” you sang as you let go of my hand. I wanted the lyrics to be true for you like they were for me. You laid your head back on your chair and basked in the sunlight.
“Y/n?” I asked.
“Mhm?” you replied, still sunbathing.
“I–” I began, but stopped speaking when your phone started ringing.
“Sorry, this is work,” you said as you fished your phone out of your tote bag. I watched your face turn to disappointment behind the sunglasses. “Hello?” you said as you answered. You got up and walked away to take the phone call. I turned my attention away from you and looked out toward the waves. I knew our time together was ending quicker than I wanted it to. I was supposed to fly back home first thing tomorrow morning, and we were supposed to spend the entire day together on the beach, but my gut told me those plans were about to change. Being a musician, I was no stranger to abrupt changes and I quickly learned how to adapt to the unexpected. Nothing in my life ever goes according to plan anymore. I glanced your direction and watched you pace back and forth, still talking to whoever it was on the phone. I turned back toward the water and savored what I knew would be my final moments here on the beach. Another chance I would never take washed away on the shore line. I wiped the tear that escaped my eye as you walked back toward your empty chair. You didn’t have to say it; I knew.
“I am so sorry, Jake,” you began.
“Do we need to go?” I asked.
“Yes,” you said with a sigh. Without another word, I stood up and helped grab the chairs to make our way back to your car.
“Please feel free to stay in my house until I get back. I only have to go in for a few hours to help locate and fix some medical charts that got mishandled. I don’t have to work a full shift tonight,” you said.
“Sure, of course,” I lied. I’d be searching for the next flight out of California the second you walked out the door. I knew you would be upset that I planned to leave without a proper goodbye, but I left what I needed to say out on the beach. The waves carried my broken heart back to the ocean. My unspoken words would forever remain buried in the sand.
Eventually, I would find my way back there when you were ready to hear them.
It wasn’t our time, yet. And it kills me that maybe it never will be.
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romaincrisis
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