by J. L. Berg
“No,” she answered in an almost bewildered state. “And I take it, you don’t cook much in Chicago?”
A chuckle escaped my lips as I turned to find her amused expression. “No. Is it that obvious?”
“Look at those tomatoes, Jake. What did they ever do to you? I mean, seriously, they look mutilated.”
She wasn’t wrong. To my left were the perfectly square pieces she’d diced, and next to them were the mushed versions I’d created.
“Where did I go wrong?”
“I don’t know, but I thought a heart surgeon would be better with a knife. Remind me to ask for someone else if I ever have a heart attack.”
My face blanched as the knife clattered to the counter. “Why? Are you okay?” My eyes began to skim her body, checking for signs and symptoms.
Her smile immediately vanished as her hands reached for me. “I’m sorry, Jake. That was a terrible joke. I didn’t mean it. I’m fine, I swear.”
My heart was pounding in my chest. The walls around me were closing in.
I just arrived home from Molly’s. We’d been studying—a code word we liked to use for anything besides actual studying.
I was running late and had pushed the limits of my beat-up truck to get here, only to find a dark house.
I felt an eerie chill when I entered the house, like a warning for what was to come.
“Is anyone home?” I hollered.
I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t stay inside. The darkness, the cold…something about the otherwise comforting home felt off somehow, and I ran out the front door.
Only to be met by Terri, my next-door neighbor.
“Jake, I have some bad news,” she said, her voice hoarse and sad.
“What is it?” I asked, backing away from the old widow.
I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to know.
“Your mom,” she said, a tear falling down her cheek.
“What about her?” I said, still stepping back. My foot hit the first step of the porch, and I tripped, my butt hitting the ground.
She knelt beside me, her old knees creaking from the movement. “She’s gone son. She died an hour ago. Your daddy, he tried. He tried everything to save her. But it was too much. Her heart…it just couldn’t take it.”
“No, she’s healthy and young. She’s fine. She’s fine.” I said softly. “No,” I repeated, the truth settling in my gut. The word just kept falling from my lips over and over until I was shouting it. “No!” I screamed, tears falling from my face.
Terri held me, apologizing over and over, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. None of us could have known.”
I didn’t know what she had to be sorry about. She wasn’t the doctor.
My father was and he should have saved her.
But instead he’d let her die.
“Jake!” Molly’s voice cut through the panicked memory.
My vision sharpened, and the pale green walls of my parents’ kitchen came back into view.
“It’s okay. I’m right here.”
“What happened?” I asked, feeling dizzy.
“I think you had a panic attack,” she replied, her arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders.
I nodded in agreement. “Sounds about right. Sorry.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re sorry? I’m the one who made the insensitive joke. I know what you went through. I was there. I should have known better,” she said.
“I know you were there, but still…it shouldn’t affect me like this anymore. It was a long time ago. Must be the house.”
She helped me up—or at least she tried. I weighed about a hundred pounds more than her. There was no way she could lift me, but I appreciated the thought.
“It was a long time ago, but it doesn’t mean it can’t still hurt.”
I gave a curt nod as I let the air settle in my lungs. There was a war still going on in my head as I tried to fight out the memories I’d just relived.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought of everything that had happened here a thousand times since that day.
I had.
It was just that being back here, in this place, made them a thousand times worse. I felt the pain like it was only yesterday rather than twelve years ago.
But, like I’d said, it was a long time ago, and I needed to move on.
My eyes settled on Molly. “Weren’t we cooking?” I asked.
She seemed a little rattled by my abrupt change in attitude but rolled with it, turning back toward the stove. “We were,” she replied. “Let’s make spaghetti.”
“Sounds great.”
“Dear God, this is amazing. I forgot how good your cooking is,” I said, shoving another heaping forkful of spaghetti in my mouth.
“It’d be better with a side of homemade garlic bread.”
I looked up at her, mid bite, watching her carefully gather up the perfect bite, twisting the pasta over a spoon.
“You can’t just talk about garlic bread like that in front of me. That’s just plain wrong. Evil temptress,” I growled, giving her a wicked grin.
A fork clattered to the plate as her eyes dodged mine. “Sorry!” she nearly squealed, seeing the pasta sauce flying everywhere. My words had obviously gotten to her, a fact that had me nearly puffing my chest in pride.
Looking down I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of the two of us covered in the red sauce we’d just spent the last hour painstakingly making.
“It’s not a problem, really,” I said, grabbing a napkin to wipe us both down.
Her body froze as I attended to her shirt. It took me a minute to realize why.
“You’ve been stroking that same spot on my chest for about sixty seconds,” she said
I looked up at her to see a mixture of amusement and shock painted across her beautiful face.
“Attention to detail,” I said. “I’ve got to make sure it doesn’t stain. That’s what friends do, right?” I backed away, giving her a lazy grin.
She rolled her eyes, throwing her napkin at my head. I caught it midair and used it to clean up my own shirt. Unfortunately, the sauce was persistent and wasn’t budging.
“We might have to soak these,” I said. “Pretty sure, based on the unchanged status of the downstairs, that I probably have some shirts stashed away in my room. That is, unless they were eaten by moths.”
Her gaze turned serious. “Are you okay to go up there?” she asked.
I could read between the lines of what she was asking. My parents’ room was right next to mine. She knew it would be difficult. Probably the hardest room of the whole house.
“Better now than never,” I said.
She cocked her head to the side, giving me a hard stare that I instantly recognized. It was her don’t-mess-with-me-Jake face, and I got it whenever I was being less than honest with her…or using humor to mask my pain, which was often in my case.
“Okay, okay,” I said, holding up my hands in defeat. “No, I’m not going to be okay. But that’s what I have you for, right? Friendship and all that shit?”
“You really hate that word, don’t you?” she asked as I followed her up the stairs.
“What word? Friendship?”
She laughed. “Yes, even then, it sounded like you were saying something else entirely, like dirty tire or wet dead fish. Definitely not something as innocent as friendship.”
I pulled on her hand, stopping her in the middle of the staircase.
“Exactly. Friendship is innocent, Mols. And us? We’re not. We’re about as far away from innocent as two people can get. I fucked you so hard the other night, I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole island knew by now. And you know what? It’s all I’ve thought about since. Every damn second.”
“What are you saying?”
I pulled her close, her feet stumbling down a step until we were nose to nose. I could feel her breath against my face.
“We’ve never been just friends Molly and I sure as hell don’t want to start now.”
I grabbed t
he back of her neck and yanked her toward me. Our mouths fused together like live wires, sending electrical shocks down my spine to the tips of my toes. We were clumsy, knocking into the wall uprooting family pictures, and stumbling over steps, as our kiss deepened, and our hands roamed.
“Bedroom?” she moaned, against the wall, my mouth on her neck as my fingers undid her shorts.
“No time,” I growled.
I shoved her shorts and panties down with one swift movement, dipping into that sweet heat that only her body could give me. She cried instantly as my fingers danced along her clit.
“Oh God, Jake!” she yelled.
Dropping to my knees, I thanked my earlier self for all those visits to the gym, never imagining I’d need my strong leg muscles for balancing myself on uneven stairs to get a girl off.
Not just a girl.
My girl.
She looked down at me. Her floral top was askew, showing off that purple bra I loved so much. She was breathless and so goddamn fucking beautiful, and I knew I couldn’t wait much longer.
Placing my hands around her thighs, I lifted her just so, wrapping those gorgeous legs around my shoulders, giving me the perfect view.
The first taste was like coming home. Her hips bucked against me as I tried to steady us. With one arm against the wall and another around her waist, I continued running my tongue over the tender flesh of her body.
She moaned, deep and guttural, the sounds only egging me on. I felt like a damn quarterback in the championship game, about to make the winning touchdown.
“Jake!” she cried. “Oh, shit, I’m going to come!”
I grinned against her, wetness dripping down my face. I held her tight against me, her body rocking hard, intensifying her own pleasure. Her hands gripped her breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples through her top.
So fucking hot.
“Oh, yes, please!” she begged seconds before her body came apart in my hands.
I felt the trembles, the quakes, and the detonation against my tongue.
She threw her head back and cried out to the heavens.
It was the hottest damn thing I’d ever seen, and it was then, in that moment, that I knew I was never going to leave that island without her.
“IT’S LIKE A MUSEUM IN here,” I said, snuggled up against Jake’s naked chest, as I stared up at the ceiling that was still covered in the same band posters I remembered from years gone by.
“I know,” he replied. “Down to the books on my desk. I don’t know whether to be sad or a little creeped out by it all.”
“Sad,” I said. “Your dad missed you. I know he did.”
I felt him stiffen. It was his automatic response anytime someone tried to humanize his father, a man Jake only saw as the villain of the story. Nothing more, nothing less.
Terri’s words came back to me just then.
“Until he figures out a way to fix himself, ain’t no one gonna be enough. Not even you.”
I swallowed audibly. Deep down, I knew she was right. I’d known it the moment he kissed me on that staircase, desperate and hungry, when he carried me upstairs after squeezing every last orgasm I had right there, on the steps, against all his family pictures.
I knew he was damaged.
I knew I’d get hurt.
But I didn’t care.
He was Jake, and I was Molly. No matter what, this was where we’d always end up—back in each other’s arms, destroying each other from the inside out.
“What are we doing, Jake?” I asked, turning slightly so that I could see his face.
He did the same, and when our eyes met, I felt it.
That same flutter in my stomach whenever his gaze settled on mine. It had been this way as far back as I could remember. In kindergarten when we’d been paired together for spelling partners and, later, in junior high whenever I’d caught him staring at me in gym.
It had always been him—this tall, dark-haired boy with the megawatt smile and heart of gold.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “But I don’t want to stop.” His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer.
“But you’re still leaving. How can this end well? This is exactly what we were trying to avoid.”
He let out a long sigh, shifting his position. “Look,” he said, rubbing his hand over his chin and stubble, “if you’d asked me a day ago—hell, even a couple of hours ago—what my plan was, I would have told you it was exactly the same—to get the hell out of here. But now? Shit, I don’t know, Mols. What you did tonight, helping me like that? No one could have done that but you. You are it for me.”
My heart beat wildly in my chest.
“I’ve tried to deny it for a long time, and I’ve been running forever. Do I like the idea of living here for the rest of my life? Not really. But, even more, I don’t like the idea of living without you for another day.”
“You’re staying?” I said, amazed and completely stunned.
He shrugged. “I survived on this island for eighteen years. I guess I can manage a little longer…that is, until I can talk you into something else.”
I laughed. “Good luck with that.”
He leaned in, a devilish smirk splitting his handsome face. “I’m very convincing.”
“Oh, yeah?”
The taste of his lips was addictive, so much more than any substance on earth. Now that I’d been reunited with his mouth, the feel of his body against mine, the thrust of his hips, I wasn’t sure I’d survive without him.
And I didn’t want to.
“Let me show how convincing I can be,” he purred in my ear, making my belly flutter once more.
When he made love to me this time, it was slow with expert care and attention. He took his time, worshipping my body like I was the most precious person on the planet.
“Come for me,” he demanded, his hips rocking in a hypnotic rhythm, my body so lost to him, to blindly bending to his will I would give up anything for these moments with him.
My back arched as I cried out, so caught up in my release that I didn’t care who heard it.
“I don’t think I can move,” I murmured several minutes later, every muscle so limp from exhaustion.
“If you can still talk, we’re not done yet,” he said, slowly spreading my legs for another round.
This time, he took me fast and hard until I was crying out his name over and over, begging for mercy I didn’t really want.
“You’re insane,” I finally said, feeling wonderfully sore in all the right places.
“I’m making up for lost time,” he replied. “Besides, you’re still talking. It seems I haven’t done my job properly yet.”
“Oh my God, you’re going to kill—” I managed to say before he was inside me once again.
“Oh, shit!” I shouted the moment my eyes cracked open the next morning. I sat up, my body aching everywhere from the combination of marathon sex with Jake and the two of us crammed on his tiny twin bed. “What time is it?” I asked, jumping out of bed in search of my clothes.
Jake did the same but forgoing clothes and instead looking for his iPhone. “Crap, it’s almost eight.”
“Eight?” I screeched. “In the morning?”
“Well, it isn’t eight at night,” he said, tossing the phone on the bed and dashing around me to grab his clothes.
“Do you think Betty will notice the fact that I’m coming in, wearing the same clothes?” he asked, taking one glance at his childhood closet that was still filled with clothes.
“Probably, but if that old nurse hasn’t said anything about the fact that you’re sleeping there, I doubt she’ll say anything about the pasta sauce on your shirt. Besides, don’t you wear a lab coat or something?”
“Not usually. Makes people feel uncomfortable. Wonder if my old Green Day shirt is still in here.”
I snorted, pulling on my shorts and bra. “I guess that’s one way to make a statement.”
“Hey,” he said after pulling his shir
t over his head. “Are you going to be okay? I know this is kind of your shining moment during the day.”
I gulped. “Yeah, I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t exactly prep last night like I normally do, and, well, I’m running about two hours behind schedule.”
“Do you need help?” he asked, his face full of warmth and compassion.
“That’s sweet,” I said, reaching out to place a tender hand on his chin. “But I’m not letting you anywhere near my kitchen after that tomato massacre last night.”
He rolled his eyes, making me laugh. “Give me a scalpel, and let me redeem myself.”
“You want to cut tomatoes with a scalpel? That’s just weird.”
“Weird and hot?” He smiled as we each pulled on our shoes.
We headed downstairs. The kitchen was still a mess, and there were several pictures knocked off walls on the staircase.
I ignored the last question, suddenly feeling awkward as I stood near the front door. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, unsure of what to say now.
He smiled, grabbing my hand and pulling it to his chest. “I’ll stop by after I’m done at the clinic, okay? You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
I could feel the tightening around my heart lessen. “Okay.”
“Although I might be a little late. I think I have a bit of cleaning to do here before I get there,” he said, taking a look behind me, toward the kitchen.
My cheeks flared with heat.
“Let me walk you to your car.”
I quickly nodded, and we did just that. The crunch of the gravel was loud against the quiet calm of the early morning.
He kissed me good-bye before I turned and hopped into my small car. I watched him do the same, driving away in the opposite direction as I headed for the bay.
Suddenly, the happy glow of the evening washed away and was replaced with panic.
Complete and utter panic.
I had a houseful of guests and nothing to serve them. Tears were beginning to pour down my face as I tried to work out any possible game plan.
Cereal? No. Besides, I didn’t have any.
Eggs and toast? Maybe. Although they would be expecting more.
Did I have anything in the freezer?
