Page 34 of Jake and Conner
"This is what I see us doing in the future," Jake explained. "Sorry for the crappy art, I only had a few days."
The 'art' was indeed crappy, but I could tell what he meant to express anyway. There were several drawings of me and Jake doing all kinds of things together. The first one showed us in front of an altar, but the one after that depicted us engaging in an activity so mundane it took me a minute to figure out what Jake had drawn--we were grocery shopping together. The scrapbook continued on in this fashion. On the next page, we were walking the dogs, then we were furniture shopping, then we were cooking, eating cake, watching TV.
Every now and then, there would be a picture that showed us doing more exciting things, like hiking or deep-sea diving--where had Jake gottenthatidea?--but in most of the drawings, we were doing pretty basic things.
I looked at Jake, who was watching me study the scrapbook with interest. "That's a lot of drawings," I said.
"There's a lot of things I want to do with you," he gave back.
"Like grocery shopping?"
"Yup. Like grocery shopping." Jake grinned at me. "You have no idea how lonely it is to go grocery shopping all by myself when I could have you by my side."
"Oh, is that what you dream of at night? Going grocery shopping with me?" I couldn't help but tease him, mostly because I didn't know how else to deal with the situation. If I'd been asked to guess what Jake pictured us doing in the future if we got back together, my answers would have been less innocent, and they would have involved more babies too. There weren't any babies to be found in this scrapbook.
Because Jake was trying to prove to me that he wasn't reducing me to my omega status?
But why grocery shopping, of all things?
"I don't dream of grocery shopping with you," Jake said. "Not specifically, anyway. Don't worry, I haven't gone insane. What I'm trying to say is..." He took the scrapbook from me and pointed at some of the drawings as he spoke. "I don't care if we're deep-sea diving or going to the movies or getting new furniture for our house or walking our dogs together. All of these things would be great if I got to do them withyou.I don't expect anything special of you. I only want you to be with me." Jake grew increasingly agitated during his little speech, gesturing with his hands as if explaining the most basic principle of the universe to someone who just wouldn't get it. That was how I knew his words came from the heart. He truly meant what he said.
I glanced at another drawing in the sketchbook. One that showed me reading in an armchair while Jake was baking. It seemed so terribly ordinary a thing, and yet so perfect. I realized it was exactly what I wanted from the future too, if I dared to let myself think about it.
I also realized that Jake saw me for who I was, and loved me all the same.
"Conner?" Jake asked, almost cautiously, when I'd been quiet for too long.
I turned to look at him, inhaled. Was it just me or had his scent grown stronger? The air seemed thick with it. Jake's scent was a wild one. Just as sweet and familiar as he was.Safe. But for as long as I could think back, there'd always been an undertone of something baser, something rough that challenged me to step out of my comfort zone.
I'd become very comfortable over the past year, hadn't I? Stuck in my work, my routines, to the point I forgot even to keep in touch with my family. I could keep going on that way until death.
Or I could change something.
Follow my heart instead of my head for once.
It sounded scary at first, but the moment my lips touched Jake's, going after what I wanted turned out to be not so scary after all. In fact, I wasn't sure why I'd hesitated at all. Yes, he'd broken my heart before. We'd broken each other's hearts. But we could learn from our mistakes, couldn't we?
And honestly, when Jake kissed me back, all of those thoughts just kind of faded away as if they had never existed in the first place. I wanted him. A little too much, maybe. I craved the familiar taste of his mouth, of his skin, the way his hair smelled when I kissed his neck, the little sounds he made when my fingers found their way down his body. I'd missed all of it.
Jake drew me closer, as if he felt exactly what I was feeling too.
The scrapbook slid out of my lap and hit the floor with a dull thud. Neither of us cared.
I couldn't help but think back to the first time Jake and I had reached out to each other on this couch the day before he left for college. When I turned into a teenager, my stepfather had supplied me with heat-suppressors, and I'd always taken them dutifully. Up until that week, when I decided not to.
It had been my parting gift to Jake, to both of us, really.
Today felt a lot like that day.
I noticed a little late that it felt entirelytoo muchlike that day.
I'd been focusing only on the feel of Jake's lips on mine--and in the process, I'd completely ignored the way my body was heating up.
Shit.
I was going into heat. Again. I could tell by the way my blood turned to lava in my veins.
But why was this happening?
