Page 88 of Hiding from Hope

“What!?” I whisper-shout.

“Fuck, harder, oh, Jessie, you’re so BIG!” Rosie starts making sex noises, and I have to loudly slap a hand over her mouth and shoosh her.

“Oh my god! For a start, I never said that last bit,” I scold, my cheeks feeling very hot even in the dead of winter.

“May as well have,” she says under her breath.

“Oh, god, how embarrassing.” I cover my face.

“The only thing embarrassing about it is that it sounds like you’re having better sex than me. And that is not okay.” She shakes her head, her tight curls bouncing around her shoulders, and it makes me giggle.

“Well, don’t say anything when he comes out here because I’d like to keep having great sex, and he won’t do that here if he thinks you can hear him.”

“I’m sure the caveman loves everyone knowing he can deliver epic orgasms with his huge cock.”

“He does.” Jessie’s amused response has me choking on air and my cheeks turning a shade of red that’d give Rosie’s favorite lipstick a run for its money.

“Oh my god.” I cover my face with my hands, and Rosie just starts giggling under her breath.

“Good job, Jenkins. You might be alright after all,” she says in his direction. I can hear his amused laugh but refuse to look up from my hands. I feel his entire body surround me, like I always do when he is near me. His scent, his warmth, the desire and lust that radiates from him send shivers over my whole body.

“I more so love everyone knowing that you’re mine,” he whispers in my ear.

“Ugh, see? Caveman.” Rosie rolls her eyes and takes her cereal to the counter, where she sits on a bar stool.

“Coffee?” he asks, after thoroughly satisfying himself with my mortification. I nod and go to make the pancakes.

“None for me, Ace. I have to head to the café.” He kisses my cheek and pulls out two mugs.

“Oh, you’re not staying for breakfast?” I hate how pathetically sad it makes me to miss him, and he hasn’t even left yet. It just reminds me of the quote he had used when he couldn’t find the words; I began to feel physical pain every time you left the room. A little kernel of warmth replaces the sad, knowing that he feels this as deeply as I do. That it isn’t one sided. He won’t abandon me or resent me. We’re in this together. On the same page and finally my future is something I can’t wait for.

“I’ll grab something on the way, or I’ll eat at the café. Need to get the stock sorted before we close over Christmas, and the online store goes live today.”

“Oh, that is so exciting!” I jump up and down. I hug him from behind from where he stands at the coffee machine, and he finishes pouring the two cups. He turns, a light smile on his lips, and places a cup in my hands. His eyes trail hungrily down my body, and I feel it tingle all over my skin. I have to sip my coffee to hide the blush on my cheeks.

“Mmm. I like you in my shirt,” he says deeply, reaching out to fist the shirt, pulling me into him and leaning forward for a kiss. He manages a swift slap to my ass before he heads back to my bedroom.

Sighs.

I watch him, and when his back disappears behind the closed door of my bedroom, I have to bite my lip to suppress the squeal that wants to leave. The overwhelming excitement, the way my heart sings with joy, it really does feel unbelievable that this is my life. That Jessie is mine.

“Good lord. You two are worse than Noah and Addison.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I giggle at her and round the corner to sit next to her at the counter.

“So romantic, so swoony, so yuck and all in love.” She rolls her shoulders. “Don’t you get sick of each other? Like all the cuddling and the cliché declarations, being in each other’s space all the time?” she questions, and when I look at her properly, her face is pulled into disgust. She might be serious?

“Of course not.” I chuckle at her. “I think of it like everyone’s soul speaks a unique language, and Jessie learnt how to speak to mine with his. I’ve never been known by someone like how he knows me. It feels—”

“Yeah, that will do.” Rosie holds her hand up. “I have enough romances on my plate at the moment, and you’re ruining my running story dialogue.” I tilt my head in confusion and she waves a hand around as she clarifies. “You know? Like, if I’m stuck in a hard part of a story that has some developmental holes, and I’m trying to help the writer, I carry it in my head. I work through it, talk through the dialogue, try to come up with the fix, try to picture it organically.”

“Why don’t you write books, Rosie? you sound like you’d be very good at it.” I shake my head in amazement at her.

“Absolutely not. I like to pick at people’s work, not create my own. That’s too much.” I just roll my eyes and finish my coffee as Rosie dives back into her cereal.

“Oh, while I’m thinking of it, that manuscript you gave me, I have excellent news. The editor picked it! They want to make an offer to the writer, talk about some developmental things and all that. You need to give me a name and some contact info!” Her smile grows, and I feel the blood rush from my face.

“Oh, uhh, I’ll come back to you on that. Just forget it for now.” I wave her off, praying to god she drops it, because I really needed to find a way to tell Jessie about my moment of stupidity without ruining our little bubble of perfection.

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