How The Cookie Crumbles

by Ting, Melanie

  Jake smiled happily at me, “You’re laughing!”

  “At your arm,” I ran a finger across the letters and he gave me an eager puppy look.

  “Yeah, even after a shower. I used permanent marker. Almost like getting your name tattooed on me.” Well, perhaps a “Property of Frankie” tattoo would be the way to keep other women away. Possibly not as good as “Property of Frank.”

  When we were stopped at a light, he looked over at me. “You look great,” he said shyly. I was wearing a shift dress in lime sateen with orange pumps and clutch, not sexy but more business-like. I figured that was the tone I wanted to set for this “date.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘beyoutiful?’” I wondered.

  “Hey, maybe I was wasted, but you’re here now, so it’s not all bad news. Plus I can pretty much remember everything I said.” His gaze moved down to my chest.

  “Forget it, Bud. You’re not getting anywhere near my ‘great tits,’” I told him sternly. Tonight was about talking.

  “So, no visit to Hooterville tonight?”

  “Population: two? No.” But I started giggling again. Jake always made me laugh with the goofy things he said, even when I was trying to be stern. “So where are we going tonight?”

  “Back to the house,” Jake licked his lips nervously. “We’re having dinner there.”

  “Oh.” Then I assumed it was take-out or something, which was a bit of a let down. Did he not want to go out someplace nice with me? Or was it a ploy to get me home alone with him?

  I walked into the house and it looked okay, not too messy or anything. But maybe it needed dusting or something. Cameron’s painting was gone, and there was just a lonely nail on the wall.

  “Where’s Luke?” I asked.

  “Oh, he’s out tonight,” Jake answered.

  “That’s pretty vague.”

  “Hey, Domer misses you a lot too. He’s happy to do anything that might help get you to move back here, so he won’t be back tonight.”

  “Not necessary,” I remarked, plunking myself down on couch. “This party is not lasting all night.” It felt weird to be here, like being at home and yet awkward.

  Jake brought me a glass of wine.

  “Wow. You bought wine?” I asked.

  “Yes. You like wine, so I got some.” He was drinking beer though. “How is it?”

  “It’s actually pretty good,” I said, looking at the white wine sparkling in its glass. “I didn’t even know you had wine glasses.”

  “I got those too,” he said, looking at the floor. He was pretty nervous, which made me feel more relaxed.

  “So, what kind of food are we eating tonight?” I wondered. “I wouldn’t mind Chinese or Thai or something.”

  “I’m making dinner tonight,” he declared anxiously.

  I shook my head to the side. “Sorry, I must have something in my ear, because I thought I heard you say that you were cooking.”

  “I am cooking. For you, you’re the first person I’ve ever made a whole dinner for.” He laid that sentence out defiantly, like he was daring me to laugh at him.

  “Sounds intriguing,” I said, and had another big sip of wine. I had a good idea of what Jake’s cooking might be like, and it might be good to kill as many taste buds as I could beforehand. Once I had asked him to help me chop some carrots, and it was like he had never used a knife before. “Do you need any help in the kitchen?”

  “No, you can just relax.” And then he disappeared, leaving me to read the only thing on the coffee table, the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. Reading that could give anyone an inferiority complex, but I resisted the urge to tidy things up instead. I did not live here anymore.

  I looked over at the dining room table, which was all set with flowers jammed into a glass and candles. One was pretty crooked, so I quietly fixed it, otherwise wax was going to drip all over the table.

  I heard the sound of stuff crashing in the kitchen and I twitched, but didn’t rush in to help. Eventually Jake came out. He had barbequed steaks, made a potato dish and a salad. It looked pretty good.

  I took a bite of steak and realized that Jake was watching me eat.

  “It’s great!” I said right away to reassure him. He had made some kind of sauce to go on the steak that was yummy. Then I tried the potatoes. They were hard as a rock and not fully cooked. Potatoes always take longer to cook than you think. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I kept trying to chew and then when he wasn’t looking, I spit into my napkin. This was like being a little kid again.

  Jake tried the potatoes, and then gave me a funny look.

  “Did you eat these?”

  I pretended that my mouth was full, and gave him a questioning look.

  “Well don’t, because they’re not cooked yet. I can stick them in the microwave.”

  I nodded obediently, still keeping my mouth closed. The salad was good anyway, and we finished up our dinners. Jake told me about their latest road trip and asked me about the museum. Then he cleared the table and went to the kitchen to get dessert. He came out with this chocolate cake, which was totally lopsided and cake was showing through some of the icing areas. On the top he had made an “F” out of Smarties. It was the most pitiful and yet adorable cake I had ever seen; looking more like something a five-year-old had concocted.

  I couldn’t help it; tears were welling up in my eyes. Really, he was such a lousy cook, this dinner must have taken him hours. “You made this cake for me?”

  “Are you crying? Don’t you like it?” Jake came over and slid an arm around me.

  I shook my head. “I don’t like it, I love it!” And I turned and gave him a hug. He hugged me back, hard, and then I tried unsuccessfully to push away. After everything we’d been through, I shouldn’t let a cake change things – even if it was chocolate. All my life, cooking was the way I showed how I felt, and I couldn’t believe that someone as oblivious as Jake was the first one to figure that out.

  Jake held on to me though, “Frankie,” he said softly, “it feels so good to hold you.” And he kissed the top of my head.

  This was too much for me; I was feeling way too vulnerable. “Okay Jake, let’s eat.”

  “No. I’m not letting go,” he said firmly. And then he reached down and picked me up and took me over to the couch. He held me in his lap and kissed me on the forehead. It wasn’t completely awful to be holding each other again.

  “Frankie, I want you to come back and stay here. But I don’t want to feed you a bunch of bullshit to get that to happen.”

  “Why don’t you tell me the truth then?”

  Jake

  The truth? I didn’t think I could really tell her the truth. How could I tell her that I was kind of afraid that if we went out and she really got to know me, maybe she wouldn’t be into me any more? But I could tell her some of my other worries.

  “First off, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I hurt you while you were here.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, but she put her head on my chest, and I knew she was sad.

  “There was lots of shit I didn’t understand,” I told her, but it sounded feeble.

  “It’s okay,” she repeated.

  “Frankie, I think we’re good together. We have fun, right?”

  She nodded, “Yeah, you make me laugh.”

  “And you know I’m into you, I think you’re really special.…”

  “I can hear that there’s a ‘but’ coming,” she said, watching me suspiciously.

  “But I really love my life. I like hanging out with the guys and going out after games and everything. I want to be with you, but I don’t want to give everything up.”

  Frankie laughed, “Um, dating is not life imprisonment. You have a life, and I have a life, I don’t see why everything would change. I hadn’t lived here for a week before I could see that you go out a lot more than I do.”

  Could that be true? She didn’t have any friends here at first, but now she seemed to have quite a few. Of course, if you g
ot rid of the guys trying to get with her, it might not be as many.

  “Well, I guess maybe it could work out, we could give it a try anyway.”

  “Your enthusiasm is not really selling me here,” she said, giving me a disgusted look. She tried to get up, but I linked my arms around her.

  “Sorry, I’m trying to be honest here. I’m not good at this shit. But I want you back.” I wasn’t ever going to be able to sweet-talk her into anything, because Frankie saw right through me.

  Then Frankie held my face in her hands, “There’s only one big question here, and you’re the one who has to convince me. What about other women? I don’t care if you’re on the road or not, have you got what it takes to be faithful?”

  Shit, she knew how to cut right to the point. And she was right as usual; this was one area where I was worried about giving up on stuff I’d regret later. But what the hell, the season was almost over and there was only one road trip left before the playoffs.

  “I can do it. Frankie, will you come back to me?”

  65. Romantic Heroes

  “I can do it. Frankie, will you come back to me?”

  Of course there was a part of me that wished Jake would be more romantic, telling me that he had missed me and that he realized that he loved me. But even though we were in L.A., we weren’t in Hollywood. Instead Jake was this guy backing reluctantly into a relationship with me, looking more like he was facing bungee jumping than dating. Actually, that was wrong, since he’d probably be happy about bungee jumping.

  Still, as I looked over to the dining room table, where the candles were still burning and the perfectly imperfect cake was sitting untouched, I figured that I needed to judge his actions more than his words. I had dated some great guys since I got here, guys who were probably a lot better suited to me, but it always came back to Jake. No matter how I tried, I still wanted to be with him. And for once, I couldn’t plan and have things turn out perfectly, so I’d just have to take the chance that maybe it could work out. And if it didn’t, I knew we’d have some fun in the meantime. Although it hurt when we broke up the first time, what was worse was never even getting a chance to see if things could work.

  “Uh Frankie, you’re kind of taking a long time to answer me,” Jake interrupted my thoughts.

  “Oh sorry,” I looked at him. His lips were full and pouty and surrounded by his latest beard/goatee combination. Then I leaned in and kissed him softly on his mouth, which tasted slightly like steak sauce.

  He leaned his forehead against mine and grinned. “That’s yes, right?”

  “Yup.” Maybe I should be playing harder to get, but I felt like we had already wasted enough time. I was only here for a couple more weeks.

  “All righty, then.” He pulled me even closer and gave me a big wet kiss. He was bristly as usual, but even that felt nice and familiar.

  “So, you want to make out?” Jake asked, nuzzling my neck.

  Yeah, not exactly romance central, but I did want to make out.

  Without waiting for an answer, he pushed me down on the couch and got on top of me, pressing his body onto mine. He was pretty heavy.

  “Ack, you’re crushing me!”

  “Sorry, you feel so good,” Jake kept kissing my face everywhere, and squished me more.

  “A gentleman takes the weight on his elbows,” I told him.

  “Why are you telling me, then?” he laughed, and started searching for the zipper on the back of my dress.

  “No, wait! Are you, um, healthy?”

  “Yes,” he murmured, kissing my neck and unzipping my dress.

  “Do you have proof of that?”

  Jake stopped. “C’mon Frankie, don’t you trust me at all?”

  “No, but you get carried away in the moment.”

  “Don’t worry, I got checked out, I’m fine.” He looked me in the eye. “Fine.”

  I smiled apologetically at him. “Okay then, where were we?” I reached up and pulled his head down and kissed him, gently at first, and then I darted my tongue into his mouth. He kissed me back enthusiastically.

  He finished unzipping my dress and then pulled it down to my waist. I was trying to remember which underwear I had worn, and luckily I had on this pretty bra and panty set in a bright floral print with lace insets.

  Jake looked down at me, and then started running his hands over the tops of my breasts, then cupping them and squeezing them. “Fuck, you always look so hot,” he said, and then eased one hand into my bra cup and began teasing my nipple.

  “Frankie, did you know how hard it is to live with you?”

  “Why?” I asked breathlessly, pulling up his t-shirt.

  “Because you’re so fucking hot. Sometimes I could see down your top,” he cupped both my breasts, “or you’d bend over and stick your ass out, and then I’d get a hard-on looking at you.”

  I licked his nipple and sucked on it, and he sighed contentedly. “Frankie, I wanna look at you.”

  I rolled from under him and stood up, shimmying out of my dress and stretching out in only heels, bra and panties. Jake looked me over, his eyes half-closed. “Oh yeah, you are so hot. Take off your bra.”

  I turned my back to him, and then reached around to undo it. When I looked over my shoulder, he was watching me and pulling off his jeans and underwear at the same time. His cock was hard and pulsing upwards, and I felt a breathless anticipation seeing him naked. He wasn’t the only one who had been frustrated being together and not doing anything.

  Jake slapped my ass, “C’mon babe, stop teasing me and show me your tits!”

  “I can’t believe you just said those words, you’re like a frat boy.”

  He laughed, “Or like any junior hockey player. Oh well, I’ll make do.” And then he eased my panties off and I stepped out of them, my high-heeled sandals still on.

  “You want me to keep the shoes on, right?”

  “See, this is gonna be the good part about having a girlfriend, I can train her in all my kinks.”

  “Train me? Jake, you’re such a pig!” I whirled around and started whacking him, and he put his hands up, laughing.

  “Oh yeah, hit me babe, if you want to slap me with your tits, that’d be good too,” he laughed harder, and then reached up and grabbed my wrists and pulled me towards him. “It’s fun to get you mad, ‘cause you get all crazy and hot,” he said to me in a soft voice, and then he Frenched me hard. He ran his hands over my body, squeezing my breasts, my ass, and my thighs. He was right: I was mad and hot and ready for him. I leaned over him, and he caught my nipple in his mouth and sucked hard, and I could feel the desire vibrating through my body. He reached his hand between my legs, and felt how wet I was already.

  “You want me bad, Frankie. Hold on a sec.” He scrambled off to his room and came back with a handful of condoms. Jake sat back on the couch and slid a condom over his straining cock. “Okay, don’t think we need much more foreplay here,” he observed, and he positioned me so I was straddled over him. I lowered myself onto his cock and watched his face tense with pleasure. I felt him inside me, filling me up and touching me in all the sensitive places inside. It felt so fantastic, so right. I started out slowly moving up and down on him, but Jake gritted his teeth and starting thrusting faster, arching his back and pushing up higher. After holding back for so long, we were soon a messy blur of sweaty bodies smacking hard into each other. I could feel the sensations building up in me, and when Jake reached between us and started stroking my clit, that sent me over and I started to come even as he thrust harder and deeper inside.

  “God Jake, yeah,” I gasped. I could hardly speak. Every sensation inside me was focussed between my legs, and it was intense and overpowering. I started to come and I was barely aware that Jake was coming too, his face twisted and his groans loud.

  I collapsed onto him, and Jake grunted happily.

  “Fuck. It’s always better with you,” he said. And I knew exactly what he meant.

  A few minutes later, Jake hopped up
and went to the bathroom and washed up. I got cleaned up after him, and when I got back to the couch, Jake was proudly cutting up two pieces of cake. We ate cake naked, which was a first for me.

  “Pretty good,” I told him, licking my fork after a few bites. The icing was slightly lumpy, but still chocolaty good.

  “I’d say fantastic,” he said, looking at me. “Oh! You’re talking about the cake. Wait, I think you dropped some cake, there.” He pointed with his finger and smeared some icing on my breast.

  “Jake! What are you doing?”

  “It’s okay, I’ll lick it off for you.” He bent his head down and licked all over my breast and then sucked the nipple. I breathed in deeply and then dipped a finger into my icing and did the other nipple.

  “You missed a spot,” I told him, and he sucked away until every bit was long gone and my nipple was rock hard. I moaned happily, and then I trailed a line between my breasts and down my tummy. “I am such a messy eater.”

  “Me too,” he said, smearing some chocolate icing on the tip of his softened cock. I laughed, and we got positioned for a little 69 action. I felt his cock growing in my mouth, and he was making me feel all kinds of fantastic. After a bit, I sat up, and we were kissing when I remembered I had said I’d be home after dinner.

  “Oh man, what time is it? I better send Sofia a text and say I’m not coming home.” I grabbed my purse and started looking for my phone.

  “Tell her what’s up. Why don’t you take your car tomorrow, you can pick up your suitcases and move back in here afterwards. I’ve got practice but I can help you unload after that.”

  “Wow. Back here, just like that.” I guess he was right though, why waste our limited time together? I texted the news to Sofia. She got right back to me.

 

  I laughed and showed the text to Jake.

  “Actually, that reminds me, come to my bedroom, I’ve got a present for you,” Jake said.

  “What a line. And please, if you tie a ribbon around Mr. Whitesnake, that doesn’t make him a present.”