Page 98 of The Choices I've Made
“IT’S LIKE A MUSEUM INhere,” 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.
