Page 41 of Hiding from Hope

“I can stay in Addison’s room.” He says it quietly, but his eyes remain locked on me as I shake my head. I wrap a fist in his shirt, pulling him into the room as I walk backward toward the bed. He kicks the door behind him. Understanding dawns on him, and I’m no longer dragging him, instead he walks voluntarily.

“I want you to stay with me, Jessie,” I whisper. His hands grip my waist and he pulls me against his body. I keep my grip on his shirt and my eyes flutter closed at his proximity.

“Are you sure?”

“Certain.” My response is a breath. His eyes fall to my lips, but instead of giving me one of those earth-shattering kisses again, he leads me to the bed, pulls back the covers and guides me in. I have no idea what I’m doing. What we are doing. The only thing I know is that, right now, when I feel hollow, a shell of myself, I need him. I need his warmth, that dominating presence that consumes me. Makes the noise in my head silent and the ache in my chest less painful. I can think of consequences tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to be selfish.

He toes off his shoes, and he stares at me for a beat before reaching over his back and peeling his shirt from his body, uncovering the expanse of muscles my memory did not do justice.

I feel like my original thought was right; they aren’t gym muscles. They’re ‘I work in the yard’ muscles. The ‘I could build you a house’ kind of muscles. Damn.

His gaze still hasn’t left mine, despite the ogling I do of him, and his pants are gone as fast as his shirt, and it finally dawns on me that Jessie Jenkins is in nothing but his boxers. In my bedroom! An internal squeal happens in my head and sixteen-year-old Casey passes out as Jessie climbs into my bed. I bunker down under the covers, and just as I go to roll over so I can freak out without being caught, Jessie wraps his big bear arms around my body and drags me into the safety of his warmth. “Get over here,” he practically growls. With his chest to my back, he nuzzles my neck, and it makes a stupid squeak release from my throat. He chuckles coarsely.

“Sleep, Casey. Your problems will be there tomorrow. Right now, just sleep.”

Sleep?! I feel like my adrenaline just kicked up to level one thousand. I try, though, to pretend I’m still sleepy and nod my head.

“It feels like I’m holding a fucking baby rabbit,” he mumbles, his lips at the shell of my ear. “Your heart is going nuts, Case. Just breathe. It’s just you and me, and we’re going to sleep. You need rest.” His voice is so deep and soothing, my shoulders drop and I relax. But I need to work extra hard to force myself–and little Casey–to calm the F down and not get any ideas.

“Night, Jay,” I whisper, unable to hide the giant-sized smile on my face.

He lands a soft kiss to my temple before he pulls me tighter against him and whispers back.

“Night, Ace.”

Jessie

A soft moan is what pulls me from sleep. I take quick stock of my surroundings, my eyes snapping open when I start to feel the dizzying sensation of all the blood in my body flowing south. It’s still dark out, my hands touch, or rather grip, smooth delicate skin, and I realize my hands have made their way under Casey’s nightshirt of their own accord. A perky breast and taut nipple held in my hand, as my other hand is splayed out against her flat stomach, pulling her into my lap. My lap which is currently sporting a boner so fucking hard I’m surprised Casey hasn’t woken up.

What the fuck am I doing?

We kissed, but then Grace lost the baby and Casey went into protector mode. Cuddling is one thing. Being there for her while she cried and allowing her to rest is what a friend would do. But I can’t be doing this. This is bordering on taking advantage, and I’ll be damned if I ruin the best thing in my life right now because I couldn’t get a hold of myself. I’m better than this.

She deserves better than this. Than me.

Maybe climbing into her bed and holding her was a bad idea. She asked me to stay, and after I listened to her cry in the shower, or heave out her heart more like, I couldn’t bear to leave. It took everything in me to not storm into that bathroom and hold her. Protect her, or at least try to take away her pain. Listening to the gut-wrenching sobs felt like a stab in the chest. So when she looked at me with those sad and hopeful doe eyes, I caved immediately. Didn’t even bother pretending like I was going to leave.

That same moan happens again, and Casey rears her ass further into my lap and my grip on her tightens as a growl works its way up my throat. I need out of this situation right fucking now. Reluctantly pulling my hands from her incredible body, I extricate myself from the bed, my dick yelling at me to stay, which has now pitched a tent in protest.

As I flip the covers to leave the bed, I get a fantastic flash of Casey, her smooth creamy skin, those sorry excuse for panties as her shirt lays bunched near her tits.

Perfection.

I drag a hand down my face and shake off the thoughts, forcing myself to enter her bathroom. Ordering my mind and my dick to get a fucking grip. How did I get us into this situation? Openly groping her in her sleep and doing fuck all about stopping it from happening. I splash my face with cold water. It’s still the middle of the night, but I need to snap out of this. I stare at myself in the mirror. “You’re a grown fucking man. Pull it the fuck together.”

Stepping out of the bathroom, I sneak into the kitchen for a glass of water and some fresh air on their balcony.

Staring out at the city, the scent of the air is fresh, the frost kisses my skin, cooling the heat that radiates off me in waves. The early hour scent washes over me, the one where you know daylight is coming in another couple of hours, but enough people are still sleeping that there is a lull of peace. I close my eyes and let the breeze softly wash over me. Leaning my elbows on the railing I try to talk myself out of making a huge mistake. Casey is possibly one of the greatest people I know. She literally skipped back into my life, and she has just turned me completely on my head. She is all I think about, all I dream about. When I’m alone, I want to be near her, and when we’re together, I could listen to her laugh or watch her reading for hours. Literally hours. When I’m with her, I’m an addict. I can’t get enough.

I’m in way too fucking deep. But I’ve already learned my lesson, and I can’t let myself do this again. Can’t put myself back into a place where I lose my mind and shut myself off from everyone who loves me. Addison, the way she looked at me all those months ago, like she didn’t know me. The way pain spread across her face when we would speak. All because I had my heart broken.

I won’t do it again.

I can’t.

“Jay.” Casey’s voice pulls me from my depressing spiral of thoughts, but when I turn to see her stepping out onto the balcony, she steals those thoughts, along with my breath.

Her auburn hair is sleep-messed and pouring over her shoulders as her sleepshirt falls to only the top of her thighs, leaving her perfectly long and soft legs completely on display.

---