Page 19 of Love Lies Bleeding

We’re friends, our connection over the last few weeks having a depth to it that I never expected when we first met, but simmering below it is the attraction I feel for him, and I know he feels it too. Jake could easily swallow me up if I let him and a part of me wants to let him. Yet he doesn’t act like he wants to consume me, he treats me with respect and kindness. He’s sweet and sexy, and sometimes, when I catch him staring at me, the look in his eyes makes my belly flip over with need.

He’s my friend but he could be so much more if I let him. I just don’t know if that’s the smart choice. But then smart isn’t living, and I promised myself I’d live every day like it could be my last without fear or doubt, at least I try, but that promise never included Harvard, and now the risks seem so much bigger.

Knowing I won’t figure this out today, I sigh as I get stuck into the task of researching monolithic structures, my brain falling down the rabbit hole of history. My eyes are gritty when I look up to find that dusk has fallen while I read and made notes. The library is almost empty, save for a few students on the far side, who seem to be having some kind of study session.

Raising my arms, I stretch my back, arching out the kinks from being hunched over. My phone vibrates on the table and I turn it over, my mouth spreading into a grin when I see Jake’s name on the screen.

Jake: I’m glad I brought my library card because I’m totally checking you out.

Laughter bursts from me, causing heads to lift towards me, but I’m too busy looking at the boy in the corner who’s grinning at me. He lifts his hand and crooks his finger at me and something about that movement that is so sure, so confident has me packing my books away and walking towards him. His eyes sweep a slow path over me before coming back to my face and I feel it everywhere.

“Hey, you.”

His voice is soft and deep and hits me between my thighs, making me want to hear him whisper something dirtier in my ear. “You stalking me, Jake?” I hold my bag in front of me as he reaches out and hooks his finger into the loop of my waistband, pulling me just enough for me to lose my balance and step closer, so I’m standing between his thick thighs.

“You got a problem with that, Cherry Blossom?”

I should have a problem with it, nothing about that comment should turn me on, but it does. “No.”

His gaze is so intense, the smile he gives me now having none of the sweetness I’m used to. Everything about it is predatory and I crave it.

“Good answer.”

“Yeah, why is that?”

His fingers are still hooked in my belt loop, and his thumb sweeps out and skims the skin of my hip beneath the pink sweater I’m wearing. Every nerve in my body sings at his touch. It’s innocent in the grand scheme of things but it feels like he’s stripped me down naked. The hungry look in his eyes only fueling the desire. We stay locked in this moment, his thumb on my hip, his gaze drinking me in like I’m the only oasis in a million-mile desert.

Then, as if a button is pushed, he grins and pushes to his feet, hooking an arm around me in an almost head lock. “Wanna watch a movie or grab a coffee?”

My brain takes a couple of beats to catch up with the sudden switch in him before I nod. The air leaves my lungs in a whoosh from holding my breath. “Sure, dealer’s choice. I’m easy.”

Jake lets his gaze trail over me, lingering on my hip for a second as if he can feel the phantom touch still, too. “You’re anything but easy, Cherry Blossom.”

Holding out his hand, he ushers me out of the library, then takes my bag from me, despite my assurances that I can carry it.

“I know you can, but why should you when I can carry it for you?”

“You know feminists will be crying right now.”

“It’s not anti-feminist to let me carry your bag for you, it’s just good manners.”

“Well, it feels wrong.”

Jake wraps an arm around me, pulling into his side. “That’s because you’ve never been treated properly by a man.”

“My dad would have loved you. He was just like this with my mom. If she even tried to carry the groceries, he’d lose his mind. I used to think it was silly but now I miss seeing it.”

We walk side by side in silence for a bit before he speaks again. “Tell me about him?”

I don’t talk about my dad often, not to Lexi or anyone really. Not because I don’t want to but because it hurts, and I don’t want to drag anyone down with my grief or my guilt. Yet as we walk past the historic buildings, Jake gives me the space to decide if I want to answer or not.

“He was old-fashioned, some would say. He believed a man should work and provide for his family. He loved his bikes and would spend hours on the weekend tinkering with old bikes. Yet when my mom gave him a look, he’d pack it away and give her all of his attention. He helped me learn to ride a bike. He showed me how to make pancakes on Mother’s Day and, more importantly, he taught me what it was to be loved unconditionally.”

“You miss him.”

“Every single day. He was my hero, and my biggest cheerleader.”

“He sounds like an amazing man.”

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