by Layla Frost
He carried me into the hallway before stopping.
When I realized he didn’t know where my room was, I tilted my head to the right, not wanting to break the kiss.
He walked into my room and I unhooked my legs from his waist, waiting for him to release his hold on my ass to let me down. His grip only tightened as he turned around and fell onto the bed on his back with me on top.
If we kept going, I knew what would happen. What I wanted to happen. What I’d spent an embarrassing amount of time daydreaming about happening. I should’ve stopped kissing him, but I moved my knees to straddle him, not ready to be done.
I figured a minute or two more couldn’t hurt.
Maybe ten more minutes. Thirty, at most.
Jake kept one hand in my hair, his other sliding down my back to my ass and then up again. Moving my head to the side, he brought his mouth to the curve of my neck. His facial hair rubbed against the sensitive skin of my throat, rough and arousing, as he kissed.
I moaned again, rubbing against his hardness, seeking something, anything, to ease the tension I was feeling. My heart started pounding in my chest even harder.
Is it possible to have a heart attack from kissing? Death by make out?
“Oh God, Piper, you taste so good. Fuck,” Jake groaned, grabbing my hips and flipping us over so that he was on top. He brought his mouth to mine again, one forearm propping him up, while his other hand trailed along the side of my curves.
Never mind, I’m not dying but I might kill him if he doesn’t move his hand to touch me more.
As if reading my mind, his hand moved up my rib cage, inching closer to my breast. I could feel the heat from his hand, my nipples already straining against my top.
My silent pleas for him to touch me turned to silent curses when he abruptly stopped. I was on the verge of a full-fledged tantrum when he lifted his upper body from mine.
“Shit, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I came here to explain about earlier. I shouldn’t have. I damn sure shouldn’t have kissed you.”
And there’s the cold after the hot.
I’ve never been kissed like this, ever, and he feels like he shouldn’t have done it.
I just want this night to be over.
“It’s okay, no worries. About, uh, kissing me or the stuff earlier.” I shifted to move out from under him, but his hand tightened in my hair.
“Shit. I’m not good with this stuff to begin with and I’ve been drinkin’ and well… about earlier. I was a dick. I went back to the bar, determined to let you leave and let that be it.” He shook his head. “But you were so wrong, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how wrong you were. And I couldn’t let that slide. So I caught a ride with Eli.”
“Wrong?” I asked, trying to decide if I should find the energy to be offended.
Jake rolled to the side and stretched out next to me. He kicked his shoes off before pulling me to him so I was on my side with my head resting on his shoulder.
I moved my hand from being trapped between us, unsure of where to put it. I started towards his stomach, then went up, letting it hover over his chest. When everywhere seemed too intimate, I began to pull it back.
Jake grabbed my hand and placed it on his upper abdomen. “Fuck, you’re cute,” he whispered, his voice soft and sweet. “There’s nothin’ wrong with you or how you look. You look… perfect. It’s why I didn’t want you in the waitin’ room at Hyde. Or dancin’ tonight. I don’t think you know what you do to a man. Still, I was an asshole and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I was used to being protected and sheltered. It was nothing new. At least his reason was sweet, as opposed to being told what to do so I wouldn’t make a mistake and embarrass anyone.
“Tired?”
“No, I’m fine. Do you need a ride home?” I asked, yawning through most of it.
“Let’s try again. Tired?”
I nodded, my cheek rubbing against him. “Exhausted.”
Jake pulled the blanket over us, still holding me against him. “Night.”
Even if I wanted to, I didn’t have the energy to question him staying over. I snuggled in and was asleep within minutes.
*******
“Mornin’, babe.”
I jolted awake as I realized I was not alone in bed. “Mornin’,” I mumbled, my mind racing as I tried not to hyperventilate.
Memories of last night came crashing back, including falling asleep with Jake in my bed. I couldn’t believe I’d actually been able to sleep. At the same time, I couldn’t remember when I’d slept so well.
I was warm and cozy, curled on my side with Jake’s body curved against my back and his arm wrapped under my chest. I felt a light kiss behind my ear.
“Your alarm just went off. Gotta be up?”
“Yeah, cakes to do.”
“I gotta go, too.”
“Alright,” I said softly.
Jake slowly loosened his arm as I moved away. His fingertips trailed my skin as he released me.
I rolled off the bed, happy he couldn’t see the goose bumps that broke out across my body.
I went to start the coffee maker as I heard the tap running in the bathroom. I got my mug ready and brought out my calendar to plan my day in hopes of distracting myself.
“This is totally no big deal,” I muttered to myself. “People wake up with gorgeous men in their beds all the time. Not me, of course, but people. Normal, non-workaholic people. I could pretend to be a people, right?”
Uhh, just sayin’, I don’t think normal people sit and talk to themselves…
“Shh, quiet. It’s not my fault. He hates me, then he likes me, then he’s rude, and then he’s sweet. There are mixed signals, and then there are signals that are so mixed I’m picking up stations from the other side of the world. How am I supposed to have any clarity?”
“Am I interrupting something?” Jake asked from the doorway, his tone amused.
“Holy heck,” I squealed, jumping. “Don’t do that! You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”
“Didn’t want to eavesdrop on your conversation with…” Jake trailed off, his lips twitching.
“Sorry, just talking to myself about, uhh, my broken radio! Yeah, damn thing keeps going out. I hate that,” I babbled my flimsy excuse, hoping he hadn’t heard what I’d been saying. Being caught talking to myself was bad enough.
Luckily, he seemed to believe me. “Bring it to Z, he’s a fuckin’ magician with that shit.”
“I’ll probably just get a new one. This one is way old,” I lied. I had no clue how to break my brand new radio, but if he pushed this, I’d find a way. I’d rather risk electrocution than explain what I’d really been talking to myself about.
Looking around, he thankfully changed the subject. “Cute house.”
“Thanks.”
Cute was the perfect description of my house. I’d filled the small space with bright, cheerful colors and pictures. There was a plush couch in the living room in front of a big window that let in loads of sunlight. I wanted to live somewhere warm and welcoming, someplace that felt comfortable.
I’d used a huge chunk of my savings, but my dad still had to co-sign for me to buy it. It wasn’t a big house or in the best neighborhood. But it was mine and I loved it.
“Come here, babe.”
I went to him, running on autopilot and because of the whole Babe Zombie thing.
His eyes searched my face. “We good?”
“Totally.” He’d apologized and I wasn’t one to hold a grudge. “You need a ride?”
“Nah, I texted Eli. He’s already outside waiting for me. I’ll see ya, yeah?”
I nodded, walking him to the door and opening it.
I wasn’t sure if that was a blow off, and I wasn’t about to ask.
My mind’s muddled enough for one day, thank you very much.
Jake turned to face me in the doorway, opening his mouth to speak. He closed it again without saying anything. Reaching out instead, he tou
ched my cheek briefly before dropping his hand.
With a small nod, he jogged to Eli’s waiting car.
I waved to Eli before closing the door and leaning against it. Taking a deep breath, I did the only thing I could.
I baked.
*******
I was working on frosting cake two of three for the day, when my phone beeped to indicate a text message.
Jake: Hey babe.
Me: Hey, what’s up?
Jake: You busy tonight?
Me: Yeah, why?
Jake: We’re all goin’ out. Thought you might come with.
My phone beeped again with a text from Kase.
Kase: Piper ya gotta come out with us.
Me: Sorry, honey, got plans. Maybe next time?
Jake: What plans?
Me: Huh?
Jake: You told Kase you had plans. What’re they?
I chuckled. They were obviously together and talking to each other while they both texted me.
Kase: Next time for sure. Not maybe.
Me: Okay next time definitely. Have fun tonight.
Kase: You got it.
Jake: So what’re you doing?
Me: I’ve got a dinner thing. I told Kase I’m in next time. I gotta get back to work if I’m ever gonna make it out of the house. Have fun tonight!
When I didn’t get any response, I shrugged and went back to my cakes.
*******
When my bell rang at six, I opened the door to James.
Twenty-six and on the fast track at my stepfather’s company, my mother had been pushing him at me for a couple years. And that’s putting it mildly.
I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out she’d been meeting with a wedding planner on the sly.
Her efforts weren’t going to pay off though. It wasn’t that James wasn’t attractive. He looked handsome enough in slacks and a pressed shirt. There was just no edge. No badassness. No… anything.
James dipped to press a chaste kiss to my cheek. “Hello, Piper. You look lovely.”
I didn’t feel lovely. In my conservative black dress, I felt like I was playing the worst game of dress up. Long sleeves and a high neckline ensured my tattoos were covered. The knee length didn’t work with my already short legs, and the fit was far from flattering with my curves. My hair was my lone rebellion, worn loose and wild. My subtle makeup was in place producing the world’s most boring mask.
“Thank you, James. You look nice, too.” It had to be James, never Jim or Jimmy. I wanted to roll my eyes. “Ready?”
“Of course.”
After I locked the door, James grabbed my elbow and led me to his car. I wished I could’ve driven my own.
And kept on driving.
We made small talk until we arrived. Unlike my house, this one was large and in the very best neighborhood. I knew from experience it was neither warm nor comfortable.
A wrought iron gate opened to a long driveway. When we pulled in front of the house, a valet was waiting to park James’ car. There was no holding back my eye roll this time.
My anxiety increased as we entered the house, even before an annoyed voice greeted me.
“Your hair. It’s down.”
I barely held in my sigh as I turned to the displeased woman. Her own shoulder length champagne blond hair was perfectly styled and pulled into a jeweled clasp. Unlike my outfit, her designer skirt and blouse set was flattering on her taller frame. While not my personal choice in fashion, she looked lovely.
“Why, hello, Mother, how are you?”
“Fine, fine. Come with me to double check things. James, please be seated. We’ll be eating shortly.”
James nodded obediently before walking away.
That’s your life if you don’t grow a backbone. Mother will keep pushing and you’ll keep giving in because it’s easier. Before you know it, you’ll be Mrs. James, the Obedient Nodder. It’ll be a lifetime of business dinners, polite conversation, and…
Oh, sorry, fell asleep just thinking about it.
“I’m so glad you accepted the date with James.”
“Mother, this isn’t a date. It’s dinner at my parents’ house. You were the one who insisted James pick me up. I know your address. I grew up here, remember?”
As much as one grew up in a show house.
“Piper, that attitude isn’t flattering. Though, with your hair down like that, it’s obvious you aren’t trying. Ladies wear their hair back.”
“So you’ve often said.”
“James is a good man,” she continued, pointedly ignoring me. “And you know Thomas trusts him. You should really be trying harder.”
I tuned my mother out, smiling wide and rolling my eyes at Anna, the housekeeper.
When Mother married Thomas, Anna had already been working for him for around twenty years. I knew she must be in her sixties, but she looked at least a decade younger and, if you asked, she’d tell you she was thirty-five and a lot of months. She was also one of my favorite people growing up and now.
Mother led me back to the table, still talking about my poor life choices. I kept my smile in place as I pretended to listen. I’d heard it often enough that I had it memorized.
She’d start with telling me how my little cakes weren’t going to be enough to support me and that I’d struggle. Then she’d throw in the double punch of my house being too small and in a dangerous neighborhood. She’d end with her finishing move of a guilt trip so extreme I was surprised it didn’t require a passport.
I went to the head of the table and kissed my stepfather, Thomas, by the cheek before settling into my seat next to James. I nodded politely at the other ten people at dinner other than myself, James, Mother, and Thomas.
Some people had family dinners.
My mother had family dinner parties.
Through the first two courses, the conversation flowed around me but I hardly paid attention. It wasn’t because I was rude.
Okay, it wasn’t just because I was rude.
I’d learned long ago that the quieter I was, the happier Mother was. I smiled and politely laughed when required, sipping frequently from my glass of wine.
While every place setting at Mother’s dinners had wine, my glass almost always went untouched. However, I had a feeling I’d need to numb myself a little to get through the night.
I was grateful I’d trusted my instincts.
About halfway through the third course, one of the women turned to me, asking, “Piper, what do you do?”
“She bakes dessert,” Mother answered. Her words said one thing but her disdainful tone definitely said another. She might as well have been telling them I cooked meth and sold it to school kids.
I’d long ago given up getting overly upset. It was easier to ignore her than to become the bad guy for getting emotional and embarrassing her. Instead, I’d zone out and think about new tattoos, cupcake and frosting combinations, or plan my schedule.
I was finding the wine was a pleasant distraction, too.
Tipping my head back so I didn’t miss a drop, I finished my third glass. It was refilled before I could even set it down. I glanced up at Alexander and gave him a small smile as he subtly squeezed my shoulder.
He’d been around for six years so he knew how this conversation would go. Alexander had been hired as chef when I was about fourteen, though he handled more than just cooking. He was in his fifties, a perfectionist, and, although not as coddling as Anna, he was still another of my favorite people.
When Alexander entered the room carrying desserts, I knew I was in the final stretch. I was to have a few bites but no more, which was hard because he made scrumptious desserts. As delicious as they were, it still wasn’t worth the lecture about my ample curves.
I might not be able to taste much, but at least I could taste freedom.
Alexander placed an individual Crème brûlée in front of me and I could’ve kissed him. It was heavenly but also very rich and sweet. He knew I’d only be able to eat a few bi
tes even if I could have more. He winked when I grinned up at him before going back to serving the desserts.
I slowly drank the last of my wine, setting the glass far enough away that he’d know I was done. I savored my three bites, trying not to bounce as I awaited my opportunity to leave.
After the first couple left, I took my opening. Carefully standing, as three inch heels and four glasses of wine could be dangerous, I turned to James. “I’m rather tired.”
And rather bored outta my damn mind.
“Please, stay and enjoy,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m going to call for a ride.”
“I’m ready to go, Piper.” He stood and turned to thank my parents.
I dutifully kissed the air near Thomas’ cheek before heading towards the door. Unfortunately, my smooth escape was foiled when my mother stopped me.
“Remember what I said about James. And, for goodness sake, hair back when you see him next,” she whispered in my ear as she hugged me.
I’d planned to call Ray to come get me but she lived over a half-hour away. As much as I didn’t want to spend more time with James, I was glad I didn’t have to wait for a ride. I’d have started walking.
Once I’d moved out, I didn’t necessarily like returning here but it had been tolerable. The past few visits, however, I’d begun to feel trapped and claustrophobic.
As I walked towards the door, I felt the familiar lack of air, as if the walls were closing in on me.
I need to get out before the house swallows me.
“Piper, are you okay?” James asked. “You look pale.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just tired.”
When the valet pulled the car up, I got in, anxious to get home. It hadn’t even been three hours since I’d left my house, but it seemed like days.
James chatted as he drove, though I stayed quiet. I couldn’t seem to find the energy to pretend to care about his work. I felt rude, but he didn’t seem to mind filling the silence.
About two minutes from my house, his tone turned serious. “I know your mother has been pushing me at you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to see me but I’d love to take you out to dinner. One not at your parents’ house.”