Jake Me

by Sabrina Stark

  I turned and silenced him with a kiss, just a small one, or at least, that was my original plan. But the moment our lips met, and his strong arms gathered me close, I couldn't help it. I clung to him like my sanity depended on it.

  Maybe my sanity did depend on it. Because one thing was certain – I'd go crazy if I couldn’t call him my own.

  When we finally pulled away, I swear, I could feel my heart pulsing. It was pure bliss until I heard another sound – the sound of Rupert, croaking out, "You've got to be kidding me."

  Chapter 27

  Pushing away from Jake, I whirled to face my boss. Rupert was standing just outside the doorway to his office. Behind him, the door was open, and I heard the faint sounds of a television, or maybe a radio, coming from within.

  Rupert's gaze darted around the lobby – from the toppled sofa to the fallen Ficus tree. Like the lone survivor of a zombie apocalypse, he wandered, dumbstruck, from around the front desk and into the main lobby area.

  Standing near the lobby's center, he turned slowly around, not stopping until he had completed a full circle. When he finished, he turned toward me. His eyes were wide, and his face was flushed. "What the hell happened here?"

  Desperately, I wanted to say something intelligent. I just didn't know what. I mean, forget the destruction. What did someone say when they were caught making out on the job?

  Next to me, Jake turned to give Rupert a cold stare. "Yeah, what happened? That's a good question, isn't it?"

  I gave Jake a pleading look. "I can handle this, okay?"

  "No." Jake looked past me and said to Rupert, "Where's the security guy?"

  Rupert's gaze narrowed. "Hey, I’m asking the questions around here."

  "Your ass," Jake said. "Why the hell was she left alone?"

  Rupert drew back. "Excuse me?"

  "Last I checked," Jake said, "that wasn't supposed to happen."

  "Last you checked?" Rupert said. "Are you the assistant deputy night manager?"

  "No." Jake took a step toward him. "But I'm the guy who's gonna beat his ass if he keeps giving me the runaround."

  I heard myself gasp. "Jake, seriously—"

  In front of us, Rupert blurted out, "The security guy didn't show tonight. There, you happy?"

  "No," Jake said, "Where the fuck were you?"

  I grabbed Jake's elbow. "Just stop it, okay? You're not helping here. Can you please step away and let me deal with this?"

  He turned to face me. His jaw clenched. He said nothing.

  "Please?" I said.

  Jake's gaze drifted to Rupert and then back to me. "If that's what you want," he said, not looking too happy about it. "I'll wait outside."

  I glanced toward the windows. "But it's still raining."

  "Not a big deal," he said.

  "Can't you go upstairs or something?" I asked. "You know? Maybe hang out in your room?"

  "Sorry, not gonna happen." He flicked his head toward the front entrance. "If you need me, that's where I'll be." With that, he turned and strode out the double doors.

  Once outside, he turned around and stood, watching us, with arms crossed, oblivious to the falling rain. My skin felt icy just looking at him. Vowing to make this quick, I turned my attention back to Rupert.

  "Is that your boyfriend?" he asked.

  Was he? I wanted to say yes, if only to hear myself say it. But honestly, I didn't know.

  "Well?" Rupert said.

  I stuck with what I did know. "Actually, he's a guest." I looked around. "Here. At the hotel."

  Rupert eyed me with disgust.

  My face grew warm. Because nothing screams classy like making out with one of the customers.

  "I know he's a guest," Rupert said. "You think I wouldn’t recognize the guy? He's been a thorn in my side since he checked in."

  That made me pause. "He has? How?"

  "For one thing, the girls."

  My gaze narrowed. "What girls?"

  "Every time he walks in, they fawn all over him. It's disgusting."

  I wasn't liking the sounds of this. "Which girls are you talking about?"

  Rupert gave me the flinty-eye. "You, for one."

  Oh. Well, that was different. I glanced away and heard myself say, "I wasn't exactly fawning."

  "No, not you," Rupert said. "You were tongue-wrestling the guy." His voice rose. "On the clock."

  "Technically," I mumbled, "there wasn't that much tongue."

  Rupert looked around. "So, did he do this?"

  "You mean did Jake trash the place? No. Of course not."

  Rupert gave me a dubious look. "So that's your story? He had nothing to do with this?"

  "Nothing except kicking out some trouble-makers."

  Rupert's gaze darted outside. I turned to look. Jake still hadn't moved. His hair was wet, and his gray T-shirt clung to him like a second skin. Guilt washed over me. In this weather, he had to be freezing.

  I wanted him inside, now.

  I fought the urge to run out there and drag him upstairs for a hot shower. I wondered, and not for the first time, whether anyone had ever looked out for him.

  And yet, there he stood, watching out for me yet again.

  Rupert's voice broke into my thoughts. "You do know who the guy is. Don't you?"

  "What do you think?" I said. "That I go around making out with random strangers?"

  Rupert smirked. "So you admit you were making out?"

  "It'd be pretty hard not to admit it, since you saw me and all." I mean, seriously, what did he expect me to say? That Jake was giving me mouth-to-mouth?

  "Yeah, I did see you," Rupert said. "And him. That maniac."

  "He's not a maniac," I said, "and it wasn't his fault."

  Rupert crossed his arms. "How about you? Was it your fault?"

  I hesitated. This was where things got complicated. Rango was my ex-boyfriend. He'd come in to give me a hard time. Did that make it my fault?

  No, I decided. It didn't. It was Rango's fault. And Bianca's – because I just knew she was the one who told Rango where to find me.

  "Look," I said, "I was just trying to do my job when some people came in and started giving me a hard time. They were drunk. They were rowdy. They weren't even guests." I pointed to the front entrance. "And get this, they locked me out."

  Rupert's draw dropped. "Let me get this straight. You left your station?"

  "Aren't you listening?" I said. "I was trying to make them leave. There were five of them. And just one of me." I glanced toward the office area. "I knocked on your door, but you didn't answer. Why is that?"

  "If I were you, I'd watch your tone," he warned.

  I didn't feel like watching my tone. I felt like screaming – at Rupert, who couldn’t seem to understand what I'd been up against, at Jake, who was still standing outside getting soaked, and most of all, at me, for being so stupid in the first place.

  Rango was my ex-boyfriend, after all. Why had I ever dated the guy?

  With an effort, I took a deep, calming breath. "The person who started the trouble, I know him. I know his name. I know where he lives. You've got a security tape, right?"

  "That's confidential." Rupert puffed out his chest. "Management only."

  "Fine," I said. "Let's call the police. Let them sort it out."

  Rupert looked at me like I was an idiot. "We're not turning the lobby into a crime scene."

  "What's the difference?" I made a point of glancing around. "It already looks like one."

  "Do you see a dead body?" he asked.

  I shifted my gaze to Jake, who was eyeing Rupert through the front windows. There was something about his look that made me just a little bit nervous. "Not yet," I said.

  Rupert held out his hand. "I'll be needing your name tag."

  I glanced at the hand and then down at my torso. I wasn't a wearing a name tag. I was too new for a name tag. They were custom-made at corporate headquarters. Supposedly, mine would be here in a week.

  Somehow, I had the distinct feel
ing I wouldn't be needing it.

  Chapter 28

  "Five hours," I said. "Even for me, that's a new record."

  Jake and I were walking side-by-side down the long, quiet corridor of the hotel's top floor, where his room was located. He was still soaking wet, and I felt another surge of guilt. If it weren't for me, he'd be warm and dry right now.

  "A record for what?" he asked.

  "Getting fired," I said. "I mean seriously, I didn't even make it one full night."

  At the door to his hotel room, Jake turned to lounge sideways against the wall. "That job sucked. Getting fired? Best thing that ever happened to you."

  "Oh sure, that's what you say now. Just wait 'til you get the bill."

  "The way I see it?" His dark gaze met mine, and I saw the hint of amusement dancing at the corners. "Money well spent."

  I still couldn't believe he'd told Rupert to put the damages on his bill – well, right before he told him to piss off, that is. The way it sounded, the damages would be at least a couple thousand dollars, maybe more. True, Jake had plenty of money, but I hated the idea of him spending a single dime on something that wasn't his fault.

  I bit my lip. "You're not really going to pay for all that stuff, are you?"

  "Well, I’m sure as hell not letting you get charged for them," he said, referencing Rupert's threat to hold me responsible.

  The idea seemed pretty unrealistic, but it had made me nervous just the same. The only real money I had was Jake's, and I was planning to give that back.

  I studied Jake's face. "But why would you do that?"

  "You were worried," he said. "I didn't want you to be."

  He was right. I was worried – that I'd get stuck with the bill, that somehow Jake would end up in trouble, and most of all, that Rupert would be pounded to a bloody pulp.

  In the end, none of that had happened.

  I pressed the issue. "Yeah, I was worried, but you were so mad, why'd you give in like that?"

  "Because you wanted it to go away, so I made it. Erased. Forgotten." He reached for my hand. "You don't need to think about it anymore. Okay?"

  "But what about Rango?" I asked. "I mean, it was his fault. Shouldn't he be the one paying?"

  Jake released my hand, and his gaze lost any trace of humor. "Don't worry. He'll pay."

  Something about the way he said it sent a chill up my spine. "What do you mean by that?" I asked.

  "Forget Rango," Jake said, turning to insert his key card into the slot. "Come on. Let me grab my keys, and we'll head out."

  I felt a twinge of surprise. It was the middle of the night. He had a room. We were right here. It was raining. Why go anywhere? "We're leaving?" I said. "To go where?"

  "You pick," he said. "My place?"

  "Or," I said with a half-hearted laugh, "there's always the job-trailer."

  I had been staying in that trailer for only a couple nights, but already, it was a couple nights too long. Even with a curtained-off sleeping area, the arrangement was practically barbaric. It was messy, noisy, and way too small for one person, much less three.

  And that didn't even take into account the porta-potties. I gave a little shudder. Seriously, what the hell had I been thinking? But I knew exactly what I'd been thinking. Better to tough it out in a trailer than have my heart broken someplace a whole lot nicer.

  In front of me, Jake pulled the key card from its electronic slot, and I heard the telltale click of the lock releasing. He pushed open the door and flicked his head toward the open doorway. "After you," he said.

  I gazed over at him. His hair was still dripping rainwater, and his soaked T-shirt shirt clung to his skin, accenting the outlines of his muscles under the thin cotton fabric.

  I felt my tongue brush the inside of my lips. Even his jeans were soaked. Before going anywhere, didn't he want to change clothes? Tentatively, I reached out and touched his arm. His skin was ice cold.

  I drew back my hand. "Oh my God. You're like a human icicle."

  "Not a big deal," he said. "I've got a jacket inside."

  He didn't need a jacket. He needed a hot shower. At the mental image of Jake naked, I felt my own temperature rise. I started to squirm. Here, the guy was soaked, and all I could think of was how amazing he'd look even wetter.

  I should be ashamed of myself.

  Pushing away the distraction, I strode into his hotel room, only to stop short at what I saw. The room looked absolutely pristine, vacant actually. My gaze drifted to the bed. The way it looked, no one had even sat on the thing, much less slept on it.

  It seemed odd, considering that it was nearly morning.

  Silently, I wandered to the window and looked out. What I saw was a perfect view of the construction site, mostly dark, but visible enough from the twelve-story vantage point. My gaze zoomed in on the job-trailer where I'd been staying with my brothers.

  From ground-level, the trailer was hard to see, nestled among so many other temporary buildings. But from here, a hundred feet up, I had a dim view of the entire trailer, including its only door.

  Inside the quiet room, I turned around. Jake was standing a few feet behind me, gazing at me with an expression that I couldn't make out.

  "You were watching me?" I said.

  I wasn't stupid. I had suspected as much. But to have it confirmed, I wasn't quite sure how I felt. Flattered? Or frightened? Maybe a little bit of both?

  He gave a slow shake of his head. "No."

  "Oh come on," I said. "You can't really expect me to believe that."

  "Don't get me wrong," he said, moving closer. "I could watch you all day." His expression grew serious. "But that's not what this is about."

  "Okay. Then what is it about?"

  He glanced away, and I felt that familiar frustration. Countless times, I had asked him this question. Countless times, he had given me only vague answers. Why had I expected that this time would be any different?

  "Let me guess," I said, "it's top-secret, right?"

  "No. It's just ugly." He stepped forward and ran the back of his ice-cold index finger along my jawline. "And you're too damn sweet for any of this."

  I didn't think of myself as sweet, but it made me smile just the same. "Oh please. I'm no saint, that's for sure."

  "You think I want a saint?" His voice softened. "What would a sinner like me do with one of those?"

  At something in his expression, my core ignited. Through lowered lashes, I gazed up at him. My voice grew breathless as I said, "I could think of some things."

  On his lips, I saw the barest hint of a smile. "Yeah?"

  Seeing that smile, my thoughts galloped in two opposite directions. On one hand, I wanted him so bad I could taste it. I wanted to warm his body with my own and melt myself against him. I wanted to drag my hands through his wet hair and feel his cool fingers harden my nipples.

  I wanted a lot of things.

  I felt myself frown. But what I really needed were answers.

  The old Luna would take her pleasure now and let the future take care of itself. She'd forget that she had lost three jobs in one week and still had no place to call home. She wouldn't worry that she had no money, no references, and no real plan for tomorrow.

  "Baby?" Jake said. "What is it?"

  Breathlessly, I looked up at him. I felt myself swallow.

  Screw tomorrow.

  What I really needed was to get him out of those wet clothes.

  For his sake.

  Right?

  Chapter 29

  Breathlessly, I pressed forward until our bodies met. He was so cold and so hard that I shivered against him.

  With a groan, he pulled back. Tucking his chin, he looked down at his soaked T-shirt. He frowned. "Baby, you're gonna get wet."

  I couldn’t help it. I laughed. After the last couple of days, the sensation felt almost new, and it made me feel just a little bit giddy.

  "What?" he asked.

  I edged closer. "I'm already wet."

  His gaze dipped to
my mostly dry clothes before it returned to my eyes. Whatever he saw in them made his lips curve into a slow smile. It was a nice smile filled with all kinds of implications that warmed me to the core.

  Suddenly, I felt like crying – not sad tears, the other kind. "I missed you," I said.

  Finally, his arms closed around me. He was cold and soaked, but I could hardly care. I lifted my face, and our lips met in a lingering kiss. His were cooler than I expected, making mine feel achingly hot and burning for more.

  Breaking the kiss, he pulled back to look at me. His hair was still damp, and his skin looked paler than I recalled, even from just a few moments earlier. There was a new darkness in his eyes that took me by surprise.

  "What's wrong?" I asked.

  His voice was quiet. "Fuck hurting each other."

  I shook my head. "What?"

  His gaze was hungry, and his lips were parted. From somewhere between them, I heard the whisper of something that could only be my name.

  I wanted to press tighter against him, to warm his skin and wash away the darkness, wherever it had come from. But somehow, I made myself stop. Because the way it looked, there was something he needed to say, something that for whatever reason, couldn’t wait.

  I tensed. Would it be something good? Or something bad?

  Nervously, my hands toyed with the hem of his T-shirt. The cotton was cold and soaked against my warm fingers. I slipped my hands under the wet fabric until I felt his skin, cool and damp under my trembling touch.

  As the silence grew, I studied his face. He might've been granite, except for his eyes, filled with such longing that I caught my breath.

  "I won't," he said. "I swear to God, I won't."

  "You won't what?"

  "No matter what, I won't hurt you. And I won't make you hate me."

  It was strange, really. Obviously, he was speaking to me, but somehow, I had the odd impression that the words were more for his own ears than for mine. Was it a threat to himself more than a promise to me?

  "I never thought you would," I said.

  He shook his head. "You don't know me."

  "You're wrong," I said. "You don't know you." I tried to laugh. "Seriously, every girl we meet is half in love with you. They can't all be crazy."