Page 65 of Off Season

My release hits me like a tsunami. Stars cloud my vision. I cry out his name as come spills over his fist, hitting the mat and the mirror in front of me.

My entire body shudders, and Ethan wraps a hand over my torso and shoulder, pulling me tight against his body to keep me upright. His thrusts turn frantic, like he can’t control himself anymore.

“Jacob,” he groans behind clenched teeth.

I can feel the heat of his come through the condom. He holds me close, his heart an erratic beat against my back. Our bodies are trembling with post-orgasmic bliss, but we just stand there—glued together, eyes locked in the mirror.

I don’t want this connection to end.

There’s a shift in Ethan’s eyes. It looks a lot like hope, but it’s tinted with fear. Like maybe Ethan wants me, but he’s too afraid.

Afraid to let go and let himself feel. To open himself up to the concept of love. Tomore.

I desperately want to tell him I’ll be patient. That I’ll wait for him for as long as he needs.

I would tell him everything in a heartbeat if I knew it wouldn’t scare him away.

Because his rejection would tear my heart in two, and I can’t let myself go through that.

Chapter Twenty-One

Ethan

I watch Jacob through the window as he fills the new bird feeders with seed and sprinkles nuts on the wooden table we purchased from a local garden center. He then stands in the center of the lawn, waiting for the birds to appear and feast on the freshly laid food.

He’s been doing this almost every day—simply watching as the birds come and go or the squirrels as they run from tree to tree and stuff their little mouths with nuts.

In the city, I don’t get to appreciate this. I guess he doesn’t either. The tranquility of nature.

As much as I love my life in Chicago, I’m not ready to leave tomorrow. I want to stay here, with Jacob, in this tiny world we’ve created, but I know it’s not possible. He has a life back home. He’s itching to see Alex again and to get back to the bakery—he said as much—but I can’t help but think he’s itching to get away from me.

Covering up the late lunch I’ve prepared with a towel, I head into the backyard, making sure my movements are quiet and slow so I don’t startle the visiting wildlife. When I reach Jacob, I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my chin on top of his head. He jumps slightly in my arms but soon settles when he realizes it’s me.

“Give a guy a warning next time,” he says quietly, leaning back into my chest.

“Sorry,” I murmur, kissing his head. “What are you watching?”

“Some of these little birds that visit are so beautiful and colorful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before.” Jacob trails his fingers lazily up and down my forearm and over my hand wrapped around his middle, almost absently.

He seems a bit lost in thought, so I don’t say anything and allow him to go on.

“I was reading this article, and it mentioned that in British folklore, the robin represents loved ones who are no longer with us. There’s a phrase, ‘When a robin appears, loved ones are near,’ so people can take comfort in that whenever they see a robin, it’s a loved one visiting to let them know they’re at peace. It kind of stuck with me because it’s heartwarming that you can try to find some form of solace in these little birds.”

He’s silent for a beat. I watch the bird in question peck at the lawn in search of worms. It’s got a bright orange breast, a white belly, and a brown back.

“I’ve seen three of them every day since I’ve been here. Two always seem to be together, and sometimes they come so close, like they want to see me but they’re too shy. I saw videos where people were able to feed them by hand.” Hetilts his head up to face me, blue eyes swimming with unshed tears. “I want to believe they’re my parents or my grandparents, but then I wonder why there’s no fourth robin.”

I wrap my arms a little tighter as his body trembles with his next inhale. I know what he’s about to say before he even speaks, and I’d fucking fight his pain away if I could.

“What if one of them isn’t near? Or one of them isn’t at peace?” His voice shakes as he struggles to find his breath. “What if one of them hasn’t made it to wherever it is you go once you’re gone?”

I hate the pain in his voice. His body shudders as he tries to keep a rein on his emotions, and it breaks my fucking heart. I want to make it better somehow, but I have no idea how.

So I just hold him tighter through his broken sobs and press a kiss to the top of his head, letting him know I’m here. When he turns around and hides his face in my chest, I wrap my arms around him.

“They’re always with you, J. It doesn’t matter if it’s a robin or just in your memories and in your heart. They’ll always be with you,” I say quietly.

Since that afternoon in the living room, when he bared his wounded heart to me, I’ve seen it. The slight slip in his armor. I notice it from time to time, but he quickly recovers and puts on his positive face, but I see it.

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