Page 17 of Before I Deserved You
I had resigned myself to the possibility that our one magical night together would remain just that. A single hauntingly beautiful experience. A memory to hold on to for the rest of my days. I told myself I’m okay with that. After all, I’m the one who’s offered him an out in the first place. I couldn’t fault him for not wanting to take things to the next level during his time of grief, and I knew he had more important things to deal with.
I could be reasonable about this. After all, I only gave him my virginity. Something I’d safeguarded, treasured even, in order to share it with the right person when the time came. No big deal, right? I could be his friend and pretend I don’t know what it feels like to have his lips on mine. Erase the memories and forget how a simple touch from his talented hands set my skin on fire. Or the way I’d felt so cherished and protected, wrapped up in the safety of his arms, right before I drifted off to sleep.
Last night, I reluctantly accepted that he simply wasn’t interested in taking things further. I’d prepared myself for the possibility that he might even distance himself. I berated myself for taking advantage of him while he was caught in such a fragile state and forcing him into something he clearly didn’t want. I shouldn’t have pressured him. It was wrong of me, and because of that, I just had to suck it up and do my best to act cool and unaffected. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. Refused to guilt him into something he wasn’t ready for. And so, I’d gone to school this morning with a newfound resolve. A resolve that broke the second he walked into the building.
God, he looked magnificent. Strong and proud, with an air of defiance that surrounded him, telling everyone within a fifty-mile radius to take their pity and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. One thing became painfully clear when his eyes landed on mine, ensnaring me and instantly pulling me under his spell. I knew I wouldn’t be able to pull this off. If he walked up to me and acted like nothing ever happened between us, I would have lost it. Screw being friends.
I am utterly and irrevocably in love with Jake Nelson, and now that I’ve had a taste, I want to gorge myself. I fought the urge to run. After all, it’s hard to let a girl down easy if you can’t catch her. But I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever, so I smiled and stood my ground. And boy, was I rewarded for my bravery.
How many times have I watched him stride toward me with that familiar swagger? How often have I stood in this exact spot, envisioning this moment? And how many times was I left disappointed when all he offered me was a brotherly hug and not the all-consuming kiss he’s just blown my mind with? Ireveled in the shocked glances directed our way. It’s exhilarating to know that I, modest Teresa Davidson, have managed to tie down the wild card, Jake Nelson. He chose me out of all the girls he could have had, and now that he’s claimed me in front of half the student body as he stares down at me with adoration, I’m all too aware of just how lucky that makes me.
“Hey there, gorgeous,” he whispers, giving me a small peck on the lips. “Sorry, I haven’t called. It’s been crazy.”
I wave away his apology like I hadn’t been agonizing over his lack of communication all weekend.
“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, no stress. I have to say I didn’t expect you to make this public so quickly. Not that I mind the enthusiasm,” I say, trying to sound as casual as I can. His arm drapes over my shoulders like it was always meant to be there, as he steers me away from the whispers and toward our classroom.
“Didn’t plan on it, but when I saw you standing there, looking so goddamn beautiful, I couldn’t help myself. Been thinking about you a lot since … you know, and I’ve missed you.”
“Me or my breasts?” I ask, letting my brow lift in mock question.
“Both,” he says, kissing the top of my head. He stays there a little too long, and I hear him inhaling before he continues, “But I miss those sexy little sounds you make even more.”
“Jake,” I gasp, eyes flaring before I elbow him in the ribs.
“You started it.”
Carter joins us and flashes me a smile that instantly has me squirming in discomfort.
“You told him?” I accuse and jab a finger into Jake’s hard chest for good measure. He chuckles.
“Don’t even try to pretend you didn’t tell Megan the second you saw her. He’s my best friend. I tell him everything.”
“Everything?” I screech with a horrified expression that only amuses the boys further.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t ask for the full recap. Only a description of your boobs.”
My jaw drops, and I gape at Jake, who simply shrugs like he sees nothing wrong with the request.
“I didn’t tell him much,” he finally assures me, and just when I’m beginning to relax, a cocky smile forms on his lips. “All I said was that they’re soft, perky, and delicious. Like a pair of perfect, juicy peaches.” The way he scrunches up his nose as he says this might be utterly adorable, but it does nothing to tamp down my rising anger.
Carter’s knowing chuckle makes me want to crawl into a dark hole and die. And that’s the moment I decide that Jake Nelson won’t be laying eyes on my juicy peaches for a very long time.
“Where’s your dad?” I ask in a breathless giggle as Jake drags me up the stairs and into his room like a caveman. He slows down just long enough to flash me a smile over his shoulder.
“At work. He had his first day back yesterday and said he’d stay late to catch up on things.”
We haven't had time alone since the night that changed everything, and we are both dying for a repeat performance. This morning, Jake cornered me before school and talked me into the most intense make-out session ever. When I put a stop to it because I didn’t want to risk being tardy, he told me his balls would surely explode if he couldn’t have me soon, which is why I’d agreed to follow him home right after class.
This time, our lovemaking isn’t careful and sensual but clumsy and frantic. We don’t bother with foreplay; both of us too eager to join our bodies and experience that intense feeling of belonging.
We spend all afternoon in bed laughing so hard that our sides hurt and eating so much ice cream that it makes us sick to our stomachs. Jake has the biggest sweet tooth and can always be counted on to satisfy a sudden craving for sugar. We’re halfway through an action flick I’m only half paying attention to, too busy staring up at him while we’re cuddled up on the love chair, when the sound of the front door slamming shut causes him to tense up. Not two minutes later, Mr. Nelson’s deep voice booms up the stairs, and gone is the carefree boy I’ve spent the day with. The change is so sudden and drastic that I don’t know what to make of it.
“I better go see what he wants,” he tells me, reluctantly rising. “Stay here. Finish the movie. I’ll walk you home once I know what has him in a mood.”
I don’t plan to eavesdrop. I really don’t. But when Mr. Nelson begins shouting so loud that the sound easily travels up the staircase, I feel uneasy. Like I’m encroaching on something I shouldn’t be privy to, so I decide to head home and give them privacy.
Shrugging on my sweater, I quietly make my way downstairs. However, when I draw closer to the kitchen, Mr. Nelson’s cruel words stop me dead in my tracks. I hover just out of sight, unable to move for fear of being discovered. I can now hear Jake’s father loud and clear, and how he speaks to his son makes my blood run cold.
