Falling In

by Hopkins, Andrea

  “The bus will be here in five minutes. I’m going to go get the kids.”

  I leave the room before he can even think about responding. I don’t want to talk to him right now. I know I probably have no reason to be pissed, but whatever, I am. He can’t just push me up against a wall anywhere and anytime he likes. This thing between us isn’t anything I want other people to witness just yet. I mean, I don’t even know what this is. I have no idea what’s going on. I don’t know what I want to come out of it. I don’t know what’s happening, or what’s going to happen. I just—I just don’t know.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I want to bang my head against the wall and maybe punch Jake. And quite possibly kiss him, because even after all that’s said and done—I want to. And frankly, all of this is my fault, and wouldn’t be happening if I had never given into him yesterday. The lines wouldn’t be blurred now. No one would be pushing anyone up against the pantry door, threatening to finger the other if they don’t tell that person about a goddamned sex dream. Yep, I’m a mess. But before I can clean that mess up, I need to get my kids out of this house before Jake attacks me again. I can feel him behind me without turning around. That stupid internal tether is rearing its annoying head again.

  “Hey early birds, it’s about time to catch the bus. So, TV off, booties off the couch, and grab your backpacks, so you can go learn something today! Yay!” Ben and Cady laugh, while Dyl rolls his eyes. Yeah, he’s seven going on seventeen. I watch them do as I say, never once glancing back over to Jake—which is a mighty hard feat, considering he has been glaring at my back since he walked into the room.

  I walk over to the door and open it for the kids, telling them that I’m going to watch them from up here. They both give me a kiss on the cheek before leaving the house. Cady waits on the porch for Ben to give Jake a hug goodbye. From the corner of my eye, I can see him whisper something in Jake’s ear, and Jake shakes his head before giving him another hug. He walks over to me and also wraps his precious little arms around my waist, my eyes finally locking onto Jake’s as I hug Ben back. Once he releases me, he walks over to Cady, grabs her hand, and they’re off. I stand there for a minute before the bus comes. Then I watch the bus drive away, wrapping my arms around my waist, a lot like Ben, only less comforting. Once I can’t see the familiar yellow anymore, I step back into the house and close the door behind me.

  “Look, Evangeline—”

  “Don’t apologize again. You don’t need to. I do. I keep throwing these mixed signals at you, and I know it’s hard to keep up. It’s just that—the thought of my kids walking in on me with someone who isn’t their dad—”

  I’m unable to finish that thought. I couldn’t bare that happening. I feel his hand take mine, squeezing it gently. I open my eyes, not realizing I had them shut, and find his, kind and understanding.

  “I know. Okay. I won’t do that again. It’s going to be okay, Evangeline.” I can only nod my head, wishing like hell that’s true, but knowing in my heart it’s far from it.

  ***

  “Stop looking at me like that.” I say to Jake, glaring over my laptop. I’m doing some editing work for a friend that I need to get done this week, before the kids are out of school for summer. It’s impossible to get anything done with those monster twins running around.

  “I can’t help it. You look so hot right now. I mean, you pretty much look hot every second, but when you’re working, it’s different. You’re in your element. It’s—seductive.”

  “Like you in the kitchen.”

  “What?”

  I fight the blush that I can feel plastered on my tan skin, but it’s no use. He raises his eyebrows, urging me to elaborate. I roll my eyes.

  “When you’re in the kitchen, you transform into this dominant and meticulous chef. You ooze confidence, and you know exactly what you’re doing. It’s borderline cocky, but in a good way. And the way you move around, your muscles tensing with each slice or cut, it’s sexy. Sensual.”

  “I can think of something else I do quite well that happens to meet that same description. We only need a bed—or the kitchen would work, too. Also the wall, table, or even this couch. I could show you how dominant and meticulous I can be on this couch.”

  He licks his lips and I bite mine, our eyes both zeroing in each other’s movements. He sets my Kindle down on the coffee table, the book he’s been occupying his time with for the last hour now cast aside. He’s onto better things, and by ‘things,’ I mean me. He takes my laptop and places it next to the Kindle, never taking his eyes off me. The eyes that are promising something is about to happen, but most definitely shouldn’t. Especially in this house.

  With my back against the arm of the couch, he stalks up my legs on hands and knees, now hovering over where my discarded laptop was and just stares me down, as I do the same. The heat builds around us, rising and coating my skin like my favorite lotion. The muscles in my pussy twitch with an eagerness that I shouldn’t be feeling. Our faces begin to move closer until our lips are about an inch apart.

  “Jake.”

  “It’s okay.”

  I close my eyes and touch my lips to his. He automatically opens his mouth, inviting my tongue to explore inside. I grab onto the back of his head, fisting his hair tightly as I pull him closer, needing to feel his body flush with mine again. We groan in unison as he lands on top of me, his bulge pressing into my core that is aching so badly right now, I’m afraid of what I might do. He clasps my hands above my head in one of his, while the other one begins to lower down to my breast, touching me over my t-shirt. He’s hesitant at first but when he realizes I’m not wearing a bra underneath, his touch becomes strong, powerful, almost rough—and damn, it feels good. It’s like he can’t get enough. He’s a man possessed with want, and from the feel of his shielded steel-hard cock grinding against my dampened leggings, he wants me really fucking bad. He tears his mouth from mine to look into my eyes, and pure passion is radiating through those mint green pools.

  “God, I love it when you don’t wear a bra. It’s so damn sexy.”

  We both smile, then return our mouths to each other. Our tongues scrape against each other harshly, lips are being pulled and nibbled, while moans of pleasure fill up the room, bouncing off the walls. Our kissing is frantic, like we’re trying to get as much done as possible before we get caught, before the reality of the situation rears its ugly, guilty head.

  Jake tugs on my nipple through my shirt, rolling it between his fingers, then does the same to the other. Oh fuck, this is getting too far.

  But oh goddess, it feels so good.

  This is bad. So very, very bad.

  His hand leaves my breasts and slowly travels down to the hem of my shirt.

  “Evangeline,” he says on a moan as I suck on his lower lip.

  “Hmm?” He stops kissing and looks at me with his questioning and lust-filled eyes. Then he looks down at his hand that is now halfway underneath the bottom of my shirt. He looks back at me, hoping—needing me to understand, to grant him access to something that doesn’t belong to him.

  “Can I touch you?” he says it so softly, caringly. Appreciatively. Like I would be giving him the greatest gift he would ever receive.

  This is it. This is that moment where I decide what happens next. I close my eyes and try to search for the answer. Do I give in to my desires? Or do I stay loyal to the man that has my heart? Do I do what I want, or what I should?

  Could I live with myself, going further than I already have? Betraying Cole’s trust?

  Could I live with myself, not knowing what might have been?

  “Evangeline?”

  I pry my eyes open and lock them onto Jake’s. His brow is creased, his face reflecting the uncertainty in his eyes. But his hand is still in place, imprinting on my buzzing skin. I look down to his hand again, praying to find the answers in those five long fingers that are pressing into my lower stomach, waiting to crawl down my soft flesh and take what it wants. What I w
ant.

  Before I can overthink it, before I can lose my courage or let the guilt take over, I find myself about to nod a yes. And then I hear it. A familiar Jason Mraz song begins to play. A ringtone. Cole’s ringtone. My eyes immediately zone in on the phone vibrating against the wooden coffee table we bought at a thrift store, restoring it together after we bought this house. I pick it up, and just as it’s about to go to voicemail, I swipe accept.

  “Hey.”

  I can feel Jake’s eyes on me, feel the heated tension turn from passion to anger. I can feel it burn the back of my head as I stand up, removing my body from his, putting my back to him.

  “Hey babe, how are you feeling?”

  “Um, I’m okay.”

  “You aren’t working, are you? I told you to just rest.”

  “I did a little work. I have to finish editing that book I told you about. But I’m lying on the couch now.”

  “Okay, well if you want, I can bring you home some lunch.”

  “Um no, that’s okay. I’m not really hungry. I think I might just take a nap.” I lie again, adding it to the growing list of deceptions.

  “All right, babe. Get some rest. I love you.”

  I pause, my eyes wearily going to Jake, his elbows on his knees, staring at the wall in front of him with a clenched jaw.

  “I love you, too.” Once those words leave my mouth, his face turns to me immediately. I see the hurt overcome his features. His body goes rigid, wincing as if I just sucker punched him in the gut, before putting his face in his hands in defeat. I end the call and place the phone on the table, never taking my eyes off Jake. I make the short distance to him, sitting down onto the coffee table in front of him, situating myself in between his legs. I reach underneath, pulling his chin up, bringing his face to mine. Hesitantly, I lift my fingers, gently caressing his face, tracing the worry lines and trying to take away whatever he’s feeling right now. His chiseled features slowly begin to relax, the distress leaving his body with each stroke. He closes his eyes and releases a deep breath.

  “Jake.” I whisper tentatively, not really sure what I should say next. What is the right thing to say here? I’m not even sure I know right from wrong anymore. Everything is so skewed, I’m losing all semblance of better judgment.

  He finally opens his eyes, and that shred of vulnerability he let me see is gone and replaced with a fierce determination. “I have to go.” He gets up so fast, I fall back onto the table on my forearms. He’s already halfway to the door before I realize he’s actually leaving. I sit up and scramble off the table, bolting in his direction. I grab his arm before he can reach the doorknob.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I told you. I’m leaving.”

  “But why? I don’t understand. We’re not going to talk, or hang out? I mean, we have hours to do anything.”

  He lets out a frustrated, deep breath, almost as if he’s suddenly annoyed by me. I drop his arm that I was still holding and take a step back. He shakes his head, and I can feel some of that earlier distress seep back into his body.

  “You told him you loved him right in front of me. Right after my hand was about to touch your bare skin. I can’t be here right now. I can’t be in the house that you share with him right now.”

  “You’re acting like this is some big surprise to you. Like you had no fucking idea I was with another man. I’ve been with him since I was six, for fuck’s sake! We have kids. I’ve told you I loved him.” Yep, now I’m getting riled up. He’s about to witness firsthand my Latina fire for the second time. I poke him in the chest with my index finger. “You were the one who started this.” Poke. “You kissed me.” Poke. “You touched me.” He grabs my finger before I can poke him again. “You want something that isn’t yours! You chose this!” I can feel the tears beginning to form, threatening to betray my now fading anger. “I’m trying, Jake. But I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do!”

  He yanks me into his arms just as a sob escapes. His hold is tight and firm, his arms gripping me as close as humanly possible to his hard body. I melt into his embrace and let some of the stress I’ve been holding captive finally release.

  “I’m sorry. This is just getting—hard. Hearing you tell him—I—”

  “I know.” I finish for him, whispering into his chest. He releases his grip and holds me out in front of him, looking as helpless as I feel. He wipes a stray tear that slides down my cheek.

  “I think—I think I still need to go.”

  I shake my head in confusion. “But—”

  “We just need a moment. I need a moment. And I think you need one, too.” I shut my eyes tightly, hoping to keep the budding tears at bay. He pulls me back into a hug. “Hey. It’s okay. I’ll see you later, alright?”

  I nod into his chest just before he releases me. He kisses me on the forehead, lingering a few beats, and then turns around and walks out the door, leaving me rooted to the spot, with my arms around my stomach, feeling colder than I ever have before.

  ***

  Jake

  I’m almost positive I will not be getting my safety deposit back. I just punched what is probably the tenth hole into my wall since moving here, and now I’m icing my hand while lying on my damn bed that still smells like her. And yes, I am in fact sniffing the fucking pillow like a psychopath, but I need to feel connected to her right now. I can’t believe I left her standing there, holding back tears, scared shitless and confused as all hell. I feel like a fucking asshole. I am a fucking asshole. And a pussy. A wimp. A sad excuse for a man. But hearing her tell him she loved him, it…it cut me deep.

  And I know she’s right. I have no right to be pissed or upset. I knew what I was getting into. I know she loves him. But it doesn’t make it any easier. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to punch something or a certain someone every time I see him or even hear his damn name. He doesn’t deserve her.

  Or maybe he does.

  I don’t fucking have a clue anymore. All I know is that in the end, there’s going to be one loser. And I don’t want that to be me. I want to win. I want her. I’ll fight for her if I have to.

  The last few days have been everything. Finally kissing her, feeling her underneath me and against me. It was more than I ever thought it could be. She makes me feel again. She makes me want more. She drives me fucking insane, but I don’t care as long as she’s here, with me. She feels right. We feel right, and I have to show her that. I have to convince her that we’re right. We were meant to be. But that’s the thing…

  I shouldn’t have to convince her.

  No, it’s not her fault. She has him clouding her judgment. She can’t think straight. She has to know. I know she knows. I just have to remind her. I have to tell her.

  Fuck.

  I love Evangeline.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Evangeline

  It takes me a good ten minutes to move from the spot Jake just left. I’m shivering from the cold air and emotions that have come over my body. When I feel like I’m at my most pathetic state, I turn and climb up the stairs, headed straight for the bath, hoping the comforting warmth will make this knot in my stomach go away. Or at the very least, distract me from it.

  I sit on the ledge and watch the water slowly fill the tub. I throw in vanilla salts and bubble bath before easing myself into the welcome heat, submerging my entire body under the water. I close my eyes and just stay, enjoying the quiet, trying to keep my complicated thoughts at bay. Wanting to feel something other than everything I have been lately. When my lungs begin to burn, feeling like they’re about to explode, I burst out of the water, heaving like a madwoman. I throw my head back and take a few deep breaths before relaxing like a normal person.

  Damn, I should’ve brought wine.

  As I sink further into the tub, I hear what sounds like the front door open and close downstairs.

  Jake.

  I quickly yank the hair tie from my wrist, throwing my hair up in a messy bun, then hop out of the b
ath, sloppily drying off before wrapping myself in my robe that was hanging on the bathroom door. Before I know it, I’m flying through the bedroom, out the door, and down the stairs. I’m about to call out his name when I see Cole sitting on the coffee table, just as I was half an hour ago, my phone in his hand. I halt at the bottom of the stairs just as he turns to me. There’s a weird expression on his face, one I’ve never seen before. But it’s gone before I have a chance to truly examine it.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask while making my way toward him.

  “I wanted to check up on you.”

  Once I reach him, he captures my wrist, pulling me into his lap. He begins to kiss my neck, forcing my eyes to close from the softness of his lips. The familiarity of them. He knows just where to place his mouth, hitting all of the right spots.

  “And, I thought maybe if you’re up to it, we could finish what we started this morning.”

  He pulls away from my neck, licking his lips while looking into my eyes that opened immediately after his mouth has left me. They’re a combination of lust and what looks like anger, although I have no idea why he would be angry. Maybe something happened at work? Or maybe…

  No. He wouldn’t want me as much as I can see he does right now if that were the case. Cole doesn’t wait for a reply before he pulls my mouth to his, his tongue penetrating the inside with an eagerness that leaves me breathless. I turn in his lap, wrapping my legs behind his back, straddling his warm body. I can feel his cock straining inside his jeans, rubbing against my bare pussy. I moan loudly in his mouth from the tantalizing sensation. Then I mentally shake off the feeling of déjà vu, trying my damnedest not to think of Jake and I in this exact position. And thankfully, Cole is making it easier than I thought it would be. Of course it probably helps that I’m horny as hell, and I’ll take anything that comes along at the moment.

  Cole pulls back from my lips again. With heavy-lidded eyes on mine, he unties my robe, slowly pulling it open and down my arms until it makes a puddle on the floor. I’m completely naked for him now. His eyes take me in as if it’s the first time—only, it’s probably about the millionth. Cole appreciates my body. Requires it. With one hand supporting my lower back, he uses the other to run down the center of my chest, between my breasts, all the way down to my pelvic bone, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. I can feel my pussy begin to pulse, needing relief.