One Song Away

by Molli Moran

  “I missed you so much this week.” His voice is low and husky. It tugs at me. I don’t realize what I’m doing until I lick my lips, and his eyes follow the motion. “Not being able to be around you was torture.”

  “What did you miss most?” Am I suddenly a pyromaniac? Because I’m definitely playing with fire.

  “Hmmm….” Jake’s hands trail down the ropes until they touch mine. Just a light, unassuming touch, but it leaves me wanting more. Much more. “I missed touching you like this.” He cups my face in both hands, his long fingers warm. “And this.” His legs press lightly against my knees. “And this.”

  “Oh?”

  Eyes darkening, he reaches around me and hauls my swing nearer until I’m as close to him as I can get. It must be a strain on him, but he doesn’t show it. I know what he’s doing and I know what’s coming, because he waits. He gives me plenty of time to back away. To push against him and stand. To leave. To tell him this is a bad idea. That it’s a line we shouldn’t cross.

  But haven’t we already crossed it time and time again? Is there even a line left at this point?

  “I wanted to be this close to you the night of the gala. I wanted to take you home with me.” His voice is almost a growl at this point.

  Nudging my legs open, Jake eases in between them. The fabric of his jeans brushes against my thighs as my dress rides up. I take a sharp breath, feeling like the opposite magnet to his. Everything in me is straining toward him, pulled to the breaking point. It is exquisite. He lowers his head until his mouth is barely a breath away from mine.

  “But mostly, I missed…this.”

  Oh this is not going to end well, but if I’m going to hell, I might as well hold nothing back.

  I don’t make him wait. I close the distance between our mouths, and I kiss him. Whatever line was left, this is the step that will blur it. And it’s my choice. I’m not sure where this is going, but what I do know is that I’ve wanted this—him—for too long to deny myself this opportunity. If all I get with him is this kiss and this moment, it will be enough. We’re both in this moment, and we both want this.

  There are no missed chances, like at prom. No longing glances I’ll play off as part of our arrangement. No practice kisses. Just this. Us.

  And it is worth the wait.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jake drives to his apartment with one hand on the steering wheel and one hand in mine. We didn’t talk after the kiss, but we didn’t need to. The urgency of our kisses said all there was to say. Apparently the universe feels it, too, because we don’t hit a single red light. We make the usually ten-minute trip in eight. I know because I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, counting the seconds until his mouth is on mine again. It’s the only thing I know to do to keep from distracting him while he drives. So I count and listen to the hum of the engine, and I pray that my awkwardness doesn’t somehow ruin this.

  As soon as we’re parked, I step out, going around to the driver’s side. Jake is just closing his door when I reach him. I hook my fingers in his belt loops and lean in to suck his bottom lip in between mine. He groans softly, but doesn’t make a move to stop me. He lets me kiss him, and doesn’t speak until I break away to kiss his neck.

  “We’ll never get inside if you keep this up,” he says.

  Inside. Where there are things like couches. A bed. I’ve seen his luxurious king-sized bed. And from the way things are going, there’s a good chance I could end tonight in it. With him.

  I swallow, letting go of him. He surprises me by curling his fingers around mine for the walk into his apartment building. I’m glad, because although this is very much what I want, there’s some distant part of me that’s in shock. His skin is almost too hot against mine, and when he drops his keys before he can get them into the lock on his door, I realize that he’s just as nervous as I am. The fact that Coop could be nervous about being with me somehow grounds this moment in reality.

  He finally opens the door and we tumble inside together. I kick out of my heels, because there’s a definite chance I’ll break something now, with as off balance as I am by the feel of his arms circling my waist. I turn in his embrace, and the look in his eyes literally takes away my breath. It’s as though he’s pulled back a curtain, and shown me what he really feels. His eyes are luminous with something I’ve never seen there before: desire. A wanting so deep that it leaves me almost physically shaken.

  Jake Cooper wants me. Me.

  And he should. It’s taken me longer than I would have liked to get here, but I’m happy with who I am. I’m proud of who I am. And over the last week, I’ve begun to realize I’m worthy of this.

  “Put your hands on me,” he says.

  The words are quiet, almost gruff, but I’m glad for his request. I have no fucking clue what to do right now. I’m so far out of my comfort zone that I’m basically winging it. I’ve been with guys who knew what they were doing, and guys who didn’t. I’ve been with guys who got off before I did and were done with me, and guys who made sure I came before they did. But I’ve never been with Jake.

  Until now.

  I meet Jake’s eyes again, and as they darken, I can’t look anywhere but at him. “Like this?” I whisper. I loop my arms around his neck.

  He nods and cups my face with one hand. I melt and sway closer to him. “Claire,” he whispers, his voice husky, “you might want to close your eyes for this.”

  Following his suggestion, I let my eyes drift closed. I’m sense deprived, but when his mouth touches mine, I don’t care. I feel a shudder dancing along the edges of my awareness, but all I can feel is his lips claiming mine. And claiming is the right word. We’ve kissed several times now, and each has been different, just like this one is. It isn’t pretend. It isn’t tentative. His mouth is hot and hungry on mine.

  Jake crushes me to him. I love that he doesn’t try to treat me as though I’m delicate. He has his arms around my waist again, and as he kisses me, he starts backing me down the hallway. We stumble into a wall and we stay that way, limbs tangling together. His mouth is on my neck, and he’s pushing the strap on my sundress down so he can kiss my shoulder.

  “Coop,” I sigh, tilting my head so he has better access to the area he craves. He sucks lightly for a few seconds, not long enough to leave a mark, but just long enough to make me bite down hard on my lip. Fuck. Me.

  He turns me slowly so my back is against the wall. “This okay?” I can only nod, but he waits until I do. Then he returns his attention to my mouth. He kisses me until I’m trembling. And I feel all over again like I’ve never really been kissed until Jake. The play of his mouth on mine, the feel of his tongue mingling with mine, the breaths we share. This, with Coop, is how it always should have been.

  One of his hands drops to my hip. The other cups my breast through the fabric of my dress. My stomach clenches. Without meaning to, I arch my hips into his. It’s enough to undo him, apparently, because the next thing I know, he literally sweeps me off my feet. I wrap my legs around his waist so I don’t knock us off balance, and he carries me to his bedroom. The door is halfway shut, but he kicks it open and crosses the room. He kisses me thoroughly, sitting me on the bed, but I stand again.

  “You’re driving me crazy.” He growls the words at me, so I stick my tongue out at him. Jake busts out laughing until I silence him with a kiss.

  This time, I’m the one getting his mouth to open. I ease my tongue into his mouth, playing lightly with his. I put both hands on his chest, but feeling the muscles under his shirt is torture. When I go for his belt buckle, he groans.

  “Is this okay?”

  “Hell yeah it’s okay.” Jake grins at me, those dimples flashing.

  Dying. I’m dying. But oh hell, what a way to go. Death by Jake Cooper’s hotness.

  I fumble with his buckle and finally get it undone before I slide his belt through the loops. His shirt is tucked neatly into his jeans. I hate that. It’s so much work. I just want to put my hands on his chest. I grow
l a little under my breath, but he hears me.

  “Impatient, are we?”

  “Shut up, Coop.”

  I finally get his shirt unbuttoned, and he pulls it over his head in one smooth motion. Then—ohthankyouJesus—I get to do what I’ve wanted to do since I realized my feelings went beyond a crush. Putting my hands on his skin, I let them travel over his arms and chest. I silently thank whatever gym equipment exists to get a person this ripped. I trace his six-pack and doing so brings me closer to him. We’re pressed together before I realize it. When I feel the heat of his skin through my dress, I want to be closer than this to him.

  Jake backs me away from him a few steps, and I panic until I realize what he’s doing. He’s slowly guiding me toward the bed. He wants me on the bed. His bed. I let him lower me until I’m lying down, then I scoot up until my head is on a pillow. As he follows me, I watch him. When he doesn’t make a move to remove any more clothing, I realize that other than getting me here, he’s letting me decide how fast we go.

  I love this man.

  I love him. I knew I was falling for him again, but this last week really showed me how much a part of my life he’s become since I moved home. Jake is a confidante, a friend, but I want him to be so much more. I don’t want this to ever end, because we’re good together. We encourage each other, we have real talks, and we have some of the same goals and core beliefs. And I love him. So much that it scares me, but not enough that I wouldn’t want to feel this way. It’s worth the small whisper of fear, because beyond that is…something that leaves me so full.

  I didn’t really see until now. Even though I’m not sure if he feels or could feel the same about me, I can definitely tell that he wants this. He wants to be with me. He wants to have sex with me. And Jake is the type who will want me to stay through the night for breakfast tomorrow and then…who knows.

  My breath trips up and I find his gaze again. It’s my anchor. He’s my anchor.

  Jake straddles me and leans over to kiss me. I give myself permission to lose myself in the kiss, and in the feel of his warm breath on my neck. In his lips, trailing their way down to my collarbone. He lingers there, smiling against my skin when I squirm under him. And then, as if I’m not already in sensory overload, Jake caresses my thigh. He doesn’t remove his hand, and when I don’t ask him to, he skims it against the bottom of my dress. I shiver as cool air hits my legs when he inches the fabric up, up, up, until it pools around my waist. He lays kisses on my inner thigh for a brief, glorious moment before he travels upward.

  “Claire.” Jake kisses my jaw. “You’re gorgeous.”

  I’m flushed already, but with his words, I feel the heat in my face increase. I almost can’t believe he’s saying these words to me. He knows he doesn’t have to. He knows I feel something for him. He doesn’t need to use flattery. So he means it. He thinks I’m beautiful. He wants me.

  I force myself to breathe as I reach for the button on his pants. He sucks in a breath, staring down at me, his hair falling into his eyes. He lets me fumble for the button, then the zipper. I pull his jeans down until he has to rise up on one leg, then the other, to shuck out of them.

  While he’s doing that, I get out of my dress. I shudder until Jake straddles me again, his warmth chasing away the sting of the cool air. He eases one finger inside my bra, tracing my breast. When his finger grazes my nipple, I moan. Jake chuckles under his breath, and caresses the taut flesh again. Desire floods between my legs, and I know I’m not going to be able to go slow.

  Sitting up, I meet him halfway. We kiss slowly, like we have all the time in the world, like tonight will never end. He flipped off the light at some point, so the only source of light is a small lamp in the corner on his desk, and the moonlight flooding in through the windows.

  Jake takes my hands in his and guides them to his hips. He’s down to just his boxers, so I do something I never thought I would be brave enough to do: I let one hand slip down until it trails over the front of his boxer shorts. I can feel the whole length of his erection. When I wrap my hand around him, he hisses out a slow breath.

  “Yes?” I squeeze ever so gently.

  “Yes.” He makes a strangled noise deep in his throat. “Yes, sweetheart. I always want your hands on me.”

  The endearment brings sudden tears to my eyes, but I blink them away. Jake has never used many with me before. I used to hope that 'Claire' was the only one he needed, but I gave up on it ever being something more than an affectionate, platonic nickname. Now…I smile happily.

  “Claire,” he says, “I want to touch you everywhere. Kiss you everywhere.” He strokes my face with one hand. “Can I…may I make love to you?” When his eyes meet mine, there’s nothing but wanting and reverence in them.

  I can barely speak. “Please.”

  Jake leaves my side to rummage through a drawer in his desk. I know he’s looking for a condom, and my heart beats triple time until he finds one. Then he comes back to the bed, foil square in his hand. I watch the muscles in his strong legs moving. He’s glorious, and right now, he’s mine.

  It hits me now, that I’m halfway naked in his bed. A sense of complete vulnerability sweeps over me. I’ve dreamed of this so many times, and now that it’s actually happening, I’m not sure how to feel. I feel stripped bare and happy at the same time, but I also suddenly know that I can’t go through with this on a false foundation.

  This is probably the worst time in the world to have the old urge to confess my feelings, but… I can’t do it. I can’t sleep with Jake while he thinks I’m just into him. I know he’s probably thinking that our feelings happened during our “relationship”, but mine predate that. By years. And I need him to know. I can’t be with him without him knowing everything. Even if I’m the only one who feels this way.

  “Wait.” It kills me when he pauses. “I need to tell you something first.”

  “Okay.” His eyes narrow, an expression of confusion flashing across his face.

  I have to swallow once, then again. “I want…this. Us.” Gesturing between us, I try not to notice how badly my hand is shaking. “But…”

  “But?” He raises an eyebrow.

  This will change everything. There’s no going back after this. I move so I’m sitting against his headboard. And I confess what I’ve felt since we were teenagers.

  “I have to tell you something first.” One last breath, like it will make this any easier. “I love you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  If I were standing, my legs wouldn’t hold my weight. I feel like I’ve exposed my bare bones, like there’s no longer any wall to hide behind. I can’t play this off with a laugh or a joke, and I certainly can’t pretend that it’s all part of the act. That option went out the window weeks ago. All I can do is take a breath and go forward.

  “I love you,” I say again. It’s a terrifying thrill to let the words float out into the space between us. Sure, I’ve said them before, but always with a pat on his shoulder, always downplayed. I’ve never said them to him without hiding how I really mean them.

  Twisting my hands together, I chance a look at Jake. He’s staring at me, his eyes wide. Wild. I can’t tell what he’s feeling. His brows are drawn together. He isn’t moving toward me, but he also isn’t moving away.

  “I’ve loved you for a long time,” I say quietly. “I guess you were my first love. When we were kids, I thought I’d never love anyone but you.” I smile because I’ve loved and been in love since Coop, but never with this permanence. “I’ve had several relationships, but I think I was always thinking of you in the back of my mind. And then moving back here, and our arrangement—” I blink, suddenly realizing how it must look. “That wasn’t me using you. I honestly didn’t think I’d fall for you again, but I did. I fell so hard...”

  Chills are popping up along my arms. I rub my hands together to ward off the cold and my emotions. I want Jake to hold me, but having taken this step, I’m afraid to go any further until he’s had time to pr
ocess what I’m saying. It’s one thing for him to have believed I was just now feeling something for him, but another to hear how far back it all goes.

  “I know this is sudden, but I…I love you, Jake. And I very much want to be with you, but I needed you to know how I feel before we take that step. And well, now you know.”

  I’ve never asked him to reach across the line between us until now. Everything has led to this. I honestly never thought we would be at this point when I asked him to be my fill-in boyfriend. I planned for it to be over in a week, but then neither of us ended it. And now…here we are. All he has to do is reach across the breath between us.

  But he hasn’t. He isn’t.

  At first, I’m sure it’s because he’s just in shock. I’ve hit him with a hell of a lot of truth. But then the seconds turn to one minute. Two. I pull part of his blanket to my chest to stave off the continued vulnerability I feel from knowing all my cards are on the table. But the longer Jake is silent, the more terrified I am that I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.

  “Coop?”

  He’s looking at me as if he’s never seen me before. I’ve imagined that expression on his face, but it’s always been tinged with wonder. Wonder at really seeing me, at realizing I love him. It’s never been flush with bewilderment. Like he can’t even imagine me loving him. Everyone else does, so why can’t I?

  “Say something.” I hear the plea in my voice, but I can’t erase it.

  His chest rises and falls three more times before he finally speaks. “Claire…”

  He won’t look at me. I can’t hear this. I can’t. Oh God. I was wrong earlier. I was wrong. I wanted to believe in us, wanted to believe we were on the same page. That he loved me, too. He said he was with me, and he said I’m all he can see, but he doesn’t really want me like I want him. If he did, he wouldn’t be silent now.