Tied Between

by Kira Barker

Chapter 8

  Expecting that I likely wouldn’t feel quite like rising and shining early the morning after the play party—although I hadn’t planned for how that had actually gone down—my schedule was cleared for Saturday until I had to go back to work in the early evening. I rarely got to sleep in, so when I could now, I relished every groggy, half-awake second of it.

  Gone was whatever resentment that had possessed me last night, leaving only a vague feeling of something I couldn’t quite grasp in the back of my mind. But my body ached slightly in all the right ways, early rays of sunshine were playing across my face, and Simon was snoring softly into my ear where he was still half-wrapped around me—underneath the blankets, of course, while my legs and arms were completely uncovered. It was a little strange not to wake up with Jack on my other side, but they must have decided to break the routine when I’d pretty much fallen asleep in the middle of things. It was nice. Cozy. Comfortable. And contrary to last night, that didn’t make my hackles rise but rather let me drift in and out of awareness for a small eternity.

  The floorboards creaked softly, making me open one reluctant eye. I watched as Jack tiptoed out of the room, the light doing wonderful things to the chiseled parts of his physique. I had to admit to myself that I spent by far not enough time drooling over his body. But as soon as Jack opened his mouth, usually any latent appreciation was pushed away by the need to put him in his place, prove to him that I was better, or cross his plans to tease me mercilessly with something. Yet in quiet moments like this, when he wasn’t aware that I was watching him, I could ignore all those impulses, at least as long as my mind remained at half mast.

  I listened to him take care of his morning routine, then the low sounds moved on to his room. He still kept all his stuff over there, mostly because it was the most practical solution, but now that I thought about it, I couldn’t help but wonder if some reluctance on his part was involved. Not that he consciously tried to build physical barriers, but we could have easily reorganized all the shelf space in both rooms to move everyday essentials into this one and keep all the other stuff in the other.

  Before I found an answer to that question, Jack ducked back into the room, now in his running gear—tank top, shorts, and white socks that he dearly needed to be teased about—his eyes finding mine immediately.

  Busted.

  He flashed me a brief grin and jerked his chin toward the hallway, a clear invitation to join him. There was not a muscle in my body that felt ready to leave my cozy space in bed, which seemed to occur to him when I didn’t move. Grimacing, Jack walked over to me on soft feet, careful not to wake up Simon in the process.

  “Up with you, sloth,” he whispered, peppermint fresh on his breath from brushing his teeth.

  “Don’t wanna,” I murmured and pretended to burrow deeper into my pillow.

  “Guess who gives a shit?” he murmured, then—not exactly softly, I might add—grabbed me around the middle and started pulling me out from what little of the blanket I’d managed to hold on to during the night. I wasn’t exactly light, and the fact that I didn’t try to help one bit might have turned my body into so much dead weight, but Jack easily managed to drag me right off the mattress. I squealed, or tried to, but between his hand suddenly clamping over my mouth and my own lips sealing to keep in the sound, we managed to subdue most of it. I looked back at Simon, but he hadn’t moved. Glancing over to Jack, I met his grin with a glare.

  “What the—“ I started, but he shut me up with what started out as an almost chaste kiss—but this was Jack we were talking about, so of course it quickly escalated to full-on tongue, and I didn’t pass up the chance to run my hands up his chest underneath the tank. His fingers skimmed down to my ass, digging in and pulling me against his growing hard-on, and for just a few moments it looked like I could divert him to a different kind of exercise. He kept backing up, pulling me along, until we were in the hallway. Yet instead of pressing my back against the wall and having his wicked way with me there, he stopped, his grin taking on a different kind of twist as he let go of me.

  I groaned, then reached up to pull his head back to mine, but he quickly stepped out of reach.

  “You’re coming for a run with me. If you’re still horny after that, I’m more than happy to let you work off some steam in the shower.” I made a face, but, if anything, that only contributed to his unnaturally good mood. “Hey, you’re the one who keeps complaining to me that you feel out of shape and should really do something about that pudge around your midriff.”

  Looking down, I directed a similar glare at the afflicted region of my body. Slumped sideways against the wall as I was, there was enough unflattering something in evidence that made me twist my mouth into a hard line. Straightening, I pushed my shoulders back and sucked my stomach in before I stepped up to Jack, kind of vindicated by how his eyes briefly flickered down to my tits. Yeah, I wasn’t the only one who loved to get an eyeful.

  “Really, Jack? You have to resort to body shaming now to get me to go jogging with you?” Not that I actually felt self-conscious about anything, but I was about as far from “toned” as he was close to “fitness model.”

  His smile turned into something between self-deprecating and a leer, and he reached out to close his hands around my cheeks, pressing just enough to force my mouth into a pout, before he leaned in and kissed me. When he moved back but still didn’t let go, some of the humor had leaked from his gaze, replaced by heat, but he clearly didn’t let it take over.

  “Your words, not mine. I love every soft, cuddly inch of you, even when you’re huffing and puffing above me.”

  I kept glaring back for another five seconds, then reached up to pull his hands away from my face.

  “Give me five minutes.”

  Just because he was kind of right—and it had just been that one instance where I’d been so out of breath that we had to stop, and that had nothing whatsoever to do with my level of fitness—he had a point. And it wasn’t like I hated exercise. I just preferred to do a lot of other things instead. Like sleeping. Or watching TV.

  Ten minutes later we hit the pavement, just as the neighborhood around us started to wake up. A woman across the street was just exiting her house, looking about as excited as I felt, while her dog was of a sunnier disposition. A harassed-looking family father was busy packing his brood into the car, and farther down the sidewalk I could see another solitary runner sprint away from us. Jack nodded in the opposite direction, and off we went.

  After years of mostly sporadic runs together—and several over the past weeks—he knew not to even bother with conversation for the first block or two. Even with the sun warming my body, I still felt resentful that he’d simply dragged me out of bed. It only took a minute or two for my muscles to warm up enough to chase the stiffness out of my joints, but then the usual aches set in that my mind so helpfully slammed between me and my goal to achieve prime physical condition. My left ankle hurt, then my right shoulder, followed by a weird twinge in the back of my right thigh. I knew that I just needed to hang in there a little longer, but if not for Jack’s silent presence beside me, I would have turned around at the first intersection and headed straight back home. The knowledge that he was pacing himself to not make me feel like I was slowing him down—which I was, of course—made yet more resentment well up inside me. With a little training, he probably could have run a half-marathon, while I was insanely proud that I could manage four miles without going into cardiac arrest. How dare the fact that he worked out regularly since he was old enough to actually pack on muscle mass, while I had never really gotten into any kind of physical exercise, reflect on his endurance and stamina? So I gritted my teeth and forced myself to run faster, pushing my body until my mind shut down and there was just the burning in my muscles and lungs.

  I slowed down to a pace I could uphold for longer than a minute or two as soon as the strain got too much. Jack knew better than to try to push me harder, and when I glanced at him, I saw him smilin
g. I still didn’t get why he loved to go jogging with me when I was so clearly slowing him down, but except for the occasional barb, he didn’t seem to mind about that.

  As if he’d felt my gaze, he turned his head to face me, his smile widening. I expected him to make some crude joke or another—for whatever reason, he didn’t seem to mind the uniboob my sports bra squished my breasts into—but he disappointed me for once.

  “Care to tell me why you didn’t tell Simon that he pretty much bored you out of your mind last night?”

  That made me miss a step, and I had to speed up to catch up to Jack again.

  “I have no idea what you mean,” I ground out, hating how my huffing took the edge out of my tone.

  “What could I possibly be referring to?” he guessed mockingly, actually striking a thinking pose in mid-run. “Maybe the fact that just because he was ready to turn in for the night, you clearly wouldn’t have minded a somewhat less relaxed environment, to phrase it carefully?”

  I didn’t know what I resented more—that I’d been that obvious, or that only he had picked up on it.

  “That’s none of your business,” I reminded him, hating how well my pout translated into words.

  “Even if I might not be the solution, when I feel like you’re not happy, I make it my business,” he shot back.

  A small rise in the street was a welcome excuse for why I waited with my reply until I had enough air left to breathe freely. I wondered if I should continue to deny what had happened, but Jack had clearly seen through me, and I didn’t doubt that the same was the case now, too.

  “I just don’t get how he can be so fucking observant during a scene, but so oblivious not an hour later,” I ground out, glaring at the asphalt as if it could give me an answer.

  “Because he didn’t expect that he still had to watch you like a hawk. Besides, you know, there’s that thing called communication—“ Jack started, but I cut him off with a sharp gaze.

  “It’s not a big deal,” I replied, wondering if I was trying to convince him of that, or myself. “Besides, I was still kind of out of it. Confused. If I could have pointed out exactly what I wanted, I would have done so.”

  “Still—“

  I shook my head, forestalling him imparting his unwanted and unasked-for wisdom.

  “You’re making more of this than there is. Was. I didn’t lie when I said that I was tired.”

  “You feigned falling asleep well enough,” Jack replied, earning himself another glare.

  “Then why didn’t you speak up, oh all-knowing sex whisperer?”

  His bright grin held a lot more heat than should have been possible.

  “And make you both mad at me for inserting myself into your well-balanced whatever it is that you have? Come on, I’m not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice.”

  “And what exactly is it that you’re doing right now?” I wanted to know.

  “I’m trying to talk to you where what I’m saying might actually get through that thick skull of yours,” he replied. “Not that it’s any of my business, you’re right there. But considering the length he went to turn you inside out, I thought it might have been neat to make sure that the night wouldn’t end on a disappointing note for you.”

  That wasn’t anything I could easily disband, so I chose to ignore it.

  “Sex isn’t always about making everyone equally satisfied. It’s hard enough to hit the balance with two people. Don’t tell me that the past weeks haven’t proven to you that with three, it’s virtually impossible.”

  Jack clearly thought that my argument was worth shit.

  “That’s why yesterday was supposed to be all about you, and very little about me. I don’t need to tell you that.”

  I hated how stupid his words made me feel, but that didn’t change the fact that I didn’t have a different answer for him.

  “What do you want me to say, that I should have been more selfish? Didn’t exactly feel like it just then. Maybe that’s hard for you to wrap your head around, but I can’t change that.”

  Jack was completely unfazed by my rebuke, but then I hadn’t expected anything else.

  “Hey, your loss, not mine. I was just wondering why you can tell Simon to do all kinds of crazy things to you, but afterward you can’t let him know that, just maybe, you’re still a little lost in whatever headspace he pushed you into.”

  I didn’t know why, but somehow that statement rubbed me the wrong way. For one, it made me incredibly defensive, although I knew that it shouldn’t have.

  “Then be glad that this is a part of our relationship you’re not involved in,” I bit back.

  “Ouch,” Jack replied, but didn’t really look hurt. I wondered if I should have felt bad, but it was more a plain statement than anything else.

  “You know how I meant that,” I said, maybe a little chagrined.

  “I know,” he admitted, sounding slightly dejected. “Still doesn’t mean I can’t get a little worried when I see you two fuck things up the second you dip your toes back into the water after almost drowning before.”

  “Now you’re just being melodramatic,” I huffed, then winced when too much talking screwed up my breathing rhythm. “I was tired. I was confused. Maybe I should have said something, but it wasn’t worth the bother to me then. Trust me, I learned that lesson.”

  “If you say so,” Jack murmured more to himself than me, and I ignored that—again.

  “Speaking of melodrama, how are you guys doing?” I was well aware that I was deflecting, but his answer actually interested me.

  “Okay, I guess,” Jack replied, a little evasive. “Why?”

  “I was surprised how well things went down yesterday. I was kind of afraid you’d tear into each other in the middle of things.”

  “Just because we’re sometimes acting like two dogs circling each other doesn’t mean we can’t behave ourselves,” he offered.

  “You mean sniffing each other’s ass?”

  Jack laughed at that worst of all jokes.

  “Very mature, really. And there I was just thinking we were having an honest, adult conversation.”

  “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” I quipped, but didn’t let him off the hook yet. “So, spill.”

  He gave a noncommittal grunt, but two houses later he finally conceded. “It’s different than I expected.”

  “Different how?”

  He shrugged. “For one thing, I didn’t expect just how much things would change.”

  “Change how?”

  His mouth twitched into a brief grin, even if a light frown remained on his forehead.

  “You know, Simon and I have been living together for more than a decade. Most people don’t even stay married that long. I thought that I knew how he could get.”

  “And now he’s surprising you?” I offered, biting my tongue not to grin too evilly.

  Jack let out a partly frustrated exhale, but the way he was looking at me, I knew that he was judging my reaction very closely.

  “It might sound incredibly naive, but, yeah, he is. I didn’t expect that he’d get that moody and pissed off out of nowhere.”

  Although I knew it was kind of unfair, I just couldn’t hold back. “Because you’re completely innocent?”

  Jack gnashed his teeth, but he waited until his voice was level again before he answered.

  “I know that I fucked up, but I wasn’t alone in this. I am well aware that you let me off the hook easily and Simon is a different caliber when it comes to moving on, but, seriously, some days I’m wondering if this is really worth it.”

  Those words sounded final enough to make my stomach sink to about knee level.

  “Seriously?”

  He was quick to shake his head, actually looking sorry as he glanced at me.

  “That came out wrong. Maybe, what I should have said is that, as things are right now, I’m not sure I can convince him that I want to make this work. I get that he’s fighting with himself there, but sometimes…”r />
  He trailed off without finishing the sentence, but it wasn’t hard to guess what he was getting at.

  “I think he just needs more time. We didn’t slide into it within a week, so it’s only natural that we need more time to leave it behind us.”

  “Like you need more time?” he suggested, his voice gentle now.

  My eyes snagged from the trees ahead over to him, but I averted my gaze almost immediately. The last thing I needed was that puppy-dog stare. That sadness.

  “Jack—“

  “I know. Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. But sometimes it’s so damn hard…”

  I probably should have felt guiltier at that, but the deep-set sense of satisfaction his words brought up in me was just too nice to give up on. And after last evening, I felt strangely vindicated about it. Not that that was in any way healthy for what we were trying to pull off, the three of us.

  “It’s only been three weeks,” I reminded him. “That’s by far not enough to undo years of forcing myself to think of you as just a friend.” As I’d hoped, that made him perk up. I rolled my eyes at the smile now taking over his face.

  “So you haven’t been as immune to my charms as you like to pretend. Did you lie to me that day we drove out to the lake?”

  I tried to snort, but it came out more like a breathless huff. I really needed to hit the track more often. This was pathetic.

  “I didn’t. You really weren’t on my radar. I can be pretty convincing, even to myself, it seems.”

  Jack mulled that over, but his shit-eating grin was getting insufferable. Insufferably cute, too, and it was ridiculous how my stomach did a few flips that really weren’t what I was used to when it came to him.

  “You can’t leave it at that. Spill,” he egged me on when I chose to concentrate on the sidewalk rather than him.

  “I don’t know what to tell you. You know that I never seriously thought about, you know, you and me ending up together, so why entertain stupid fancies? I always knew that I wasn’t the kind of girl you went for.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, playfully annoyed. I hoped that my deadpan stare translated well even with my face all blotchy and red from exhaustion.