Page 32 of Jacob

“What if he doesn’t take the news well?”

“I don’t know.” His honesty is refreshing, but he sounds disheartened.

“What if he makes you choose between him or me?”

Jacob flinches like he’s been slapped. “I can’t even think about that. I already lost you. I can’t lose him too.”

“You’ve not lost me, Jacob. I’m right here.”

Jacob doesn’t say a word, but dances his fingers over the side of my face, pushing a lock of my hair away.

“What if he gives you his blessing?” I ask.

“Then you’ll understand the true meaning of what it’s like to be loved by someone who loves you with every bone in his body,” he says, his tone thick with possession.

“And what if I don’t want to date you?” I tease.

“Then you’ll have to watch me date other girls.” He smirks, knowing he got me back.

Jealousy threads through my veins. “Like the girl from your office that night?”

He groans. “Her name is Verity. She’s just a…”

“Saturday night booty call?” My eyebrows shoot up in curiosity.

“Kinda.”

My tone drips with sarcasm. “Sounds like fun.”

“Shewasa Saturday night thing. Past tense. I haven’t hooked up with her or anyone since the night in the office with you, Skye, and I’m familiar with the jealousy thing. I know that feeling well.” A frown darkens his face. “Not being able to touch you, to hold you, or to feel your lips on mine is slowly killing me.”

“You need to speak to Owen. Soon.” I won’t let him jeopardize his friendship. I don’t want to be the one that comes between them. “But will you stay with me tonight?”

He blinks owlishly. “I… can’t…”

“Not likethat, Jay. Just stay right where you are, fully clothed, and hold me. Or is that breaking the rules?” It may be all I ever get. “Give me just one night.”

With ease and gentle dominance, and only the comforter separating us, he pulls me into his thick arms, tucking my head into his neck.

“You smell good,” he mumbles, draping his arm around my waist. “Like coconut and vanilla.”

“You feel good.” I snuggle into his chest, relaxing in his bear hug.

“Now go to sleep, Butterfly. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“We’re traveling home. It’s hardly exciting.” I rest my hand on his pec and it flexes under my touch.

“Our flight isn’t until tomorrow night. I have fun plans for us booked before then. Let me make it up to you for being an asshole?”

“Are we going to the Tate Modern?” I start to get excited.

“You’ll see. Now sleep.”

I bury myself against the solid frame of his athletic body, feeling his heart beating in time with mine.

“I think I found my new favorite place,” I mumble, feeling tired.

“You’ve always been my favorite place.” He pulls me in tighter, as if wanting to climb inside my body. “Thank you for accepting my apology and listening to me.”

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