Page 19 of Mutual Obsession

Ever since that day at Caged with Miles, Jake has been going out of his way to show me I can trust him, and I’m starting to believe him.

I rarely get along with people, probably because I don’t really try to, but with Jake, it’s been no effort at all. We have a lot in common, and he’s just so easy to talk to. He made me feelrelaxed right from that first coffee, and ever since then, we’ve become real friends…but that’s all it is.

I can’t deny I’m attracted to Jake. You only need to have eyes to see how bloody gorgeous he is, but he’s so sweet, kind, and caring, too. He’s one of those people everybody loves, but that doesn’t change the fact that my heart still aches for Miles. It has done since the day I left, and I’m not sure that will ever change.

It may have been seven years since I left, but I’ve never moved on. Not one date or one kiss. I’ve never even thought another man was attractive until Jake, which only makes the situation worse.

Since today is supposed to be about me and Jake having fun, I push those terrifying thoughts from my mind as I walk into Caged. Although I’m not working today, we’ve agreed to meet here before we head on our date. I may be opening up to Jake, but I don’t trust him enough yet to let him know where I live, and he hasn’t pushed me on it.

As soon as I walk in, Jake greets me with a big smile on his face. I don’t miss the way his gaze roams over my body, taking in my tight jeans and white vest top that show off my curves.

“You look gorgeous,” he tells me as he pulls me in for a hug.

I can’t help but smile when I’m surrounded by Jake’s intoxicating scent, as he wraps his arms around me, and I rest my cheek against his hard, muscular chest. I breathe him in, feeling my body relax with him near.

I can’t pinpoint when exactly it happened, but I’ve started to almost feel safe around Jake, and that’s something I never thought would happen.

“Are you finally going to tell me what you have planned for today? I don’t like surprises,” I say into his chest, trying to sound stern.

As Jake chuckles, his chest vibrates against me, but he doesn’t release me from his hold. “Well, that’s something you’re going to have to get over, as I’m one big surprise.”

I have to bite my lower lip to stop myself from laughing at him. As I pull back from his chest, I look up and give him my sternest glare, hoping he won’t be able to see how amused I am by him.

He gives me a wink. “That sexy pout won’t work on me,” he says, his voice deep and husky as he pulls me back into another hug.

I laugh as I let him cuddle might tight, shocked at how quickly we became this comfortable with each other. To start with, he seemed to know that I didn’t want to be touched, and he always asked permission before making contact.

I still remember the first time he hugged me after our second coffee date. He stood awkwardly, looking like he wanted to reach out to me, but was unsure how I’d feel. He then asked me if he could hug me, making it clear I could say no if I wanted to.

I was so unsure, and our first hug lasted just a couple of seconds. He wrapped his arms around me while I remained stiff as a board. My lack of interaction might have put another person off, but not Jake. He made a point of building things up with me, always getting my consent and talking me through whatever he was doing.

If he wanted to take my hand, he’d ask, wait for me to consent, and then he’d tell me he was going to do it. Same for whenever he hugged me. Eventually, I started to return his affections. I hugged him back, or laced my finger with his for more than a second.

Jake persevered until one day I told him he didn’t need to ask my permission to hug me anymore. The smile he gave me in return lit up the room. He continued to tell me whenever he wasgoing to hug me, or hold my hand, until I finally felt comfortable enough that he no longer needed to.

Now, he pulls me into his arms without warning, and I don’t hesitate to return the gesture. I no longer think about how I hate being touched, or how anxious I get when people get too close to me. With Jake, it all seems to float away, as it did with Miles all of those years ago.

If we progress further than hugs or holding hands, we’ll need to start the process of consent and clear instructions all over again, but I trust Jake would do that even without me verbalising it. He’s just that kind of guy.

As I sink into Jake’s hug, listening to him muttering about the weather, I’m shocked by how comforted and safe I feel. I’d thought it the last few times he held me, but quickly pushed it away. Yet now, there’s no denying it.

My heart races as I soak in everything that is Jake, but at the same time, I can’t help but think about the only other guy who has ever made me feel safe and cared for—Miles.

As if by magic, like maybe my thoughts materialised him, Miles walks through the front door of the club, freezing as soon as he sees me wrapped up in Jake’s arms.

A series of emotions flash across his face—confusion, hurt, jealousy, anger—before he quickly puts his blank mask back into place, looking completely indifferent. However, his tense, stiff body, piercing blue eyes, and clenched fists give away what he’s really feeling.

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” he snaps, glaring at us as we both step away from each other, letting our arms fall by our sides.

I try to think of something smart to say, other than ‘It’s not what you think’, but my brain seems to be malfunctioning and I can’t think straight. Jake, still as calm as he was just a second before, takes a step closer to Miles, his smile remaining in place.

“We’re just heading out for the afternoon, and used this as our meeting place.” How Jake manages to keep his tone so neutral is a real talent, one I need him to teach me.

Miles glares at Jake, looking even more pissed off than he was a minute ago—which is saying something. “Well don’t. This isn’t a whore house that you can come and go from.”

He stares straight at me when he says the wordwhore, and my stomach sinks. Tears well up in my eyes, and I bite my lower lip as hard as I can, using the pain as a distraction to stop them from falling.

My heart aches when I hear the venom in his words, but it’s nothing compared to the look he gives me, like he doesn’t know who I am anymore. That causes me so much pain, I’m not sure I can survive it.

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