Page 172 of Withered

“So, I’m assuming you’re turning 19?”

“Yup,” he declares.

My thoughts quickly turn to what to get Jake for his birthday. “Thanks for saving me from the party.”

“Except for you, there’s no place I’d rather be,” he repeats my words from yesterday. I smile, remembering it.

We reach my place, and my parents are going to be late. Jake goes to his house while I freshen up. I hear my phone ding in my room, so I get out to check it.

Jake:Mum’s asking if you’d like to join us for dinner today.

Instead of replying, I call him, and he picks up on the first ring.

“Are you sure?” I ask him.

“Yeah. It’ll save you cooking time.” Jake chuckles on the other end.

I say, “I’ll be there.”

I take off his jersey and put on a plain yet comfortable top and black leggings. I apply chapstick to my lips and leave the rest of my face bare. I grab my phone, lock the door, and walk over to Jake’s house.

I ring the bell, and Jake opens the door without a shirt.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” I ask, entering the house.

“Why are you wearing one?” He replies, and I’m taken back to the time when he said that to me once. He must have remembered the same as he smirks.

“It’s cold,” I say, rubbing my arms. Because we’re indoors, it’s a little warmer but still cold.

He corners me against a wall and leans down to my ear, his breath fanning my cheek. “Come upstairs, and I’ll make you warm.”

Just a breath is enough to make me melt into puddles.

“Rose, is that you, dear?” Esme yells.

Jake grunts and steps back. Esme enters the doorway and says, “Lovely.”

I’m dragged into the kitchen after she hugs me. I see Jake smirking at me from the corner of my eye.

Aria is sitting in one of the chairs. I look at Jake, who is leaning against the kitchen door, as Esme stacks a dish for me. He’s nibbling on the side of his lip as he watches me. That image alone sends chills up my spine. The intensity in his eyes is traveling to me from the other side of the kitchen.

Our trance is broken when Esme calls us to take a seat at the table. I'm about to take a seat beside Aria, but Jake grabs my hand and pulls me to the other side of the table. He takes a seat and makes me sit beside him.

Esme snickers, probably at Jake’s behavior. My cheeks burn in embarrassment, and Aria looks up at me, clueless. Esme places our plates in front of us and we dig in.

Minutes into the dinner, I feel something crawling on my leg. I shake my leg, and it goes away. It must have been an insect. I shake the feeling away and was about to take a spoonful when I stopped midway. I feel something rubbing on my leg and freeze, realizing what it is.

“What happened, Rose?” Esme asks when I stop midway.

“Nothing.” I smile at her.

When I look to my side, I notice Jake’s mouth curving upward. I shake his leg away. He continues with his actions, and the warmth of his leg flows to all regions of my body through the thin fabric of my leggings.

I give him my best glare and wave my spoon to tell him to stop. He is unaffected by my stare and, in return, gives me a lopsided grin.

“Jake,” Esme calls.

He breaks eye contact with me and turns to face his mom. “Yeah?”

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