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“I really have. I’m not just saying that because I’m very slightly drunk. You could’ve asked me earlier and I’d have said the same thing. I don’t play games, Jake. And I don’t like people that do.”

“I’m learnin’ that.”

“So, why are you lurking on my porch?”

“I wanted to see you again, make sure you got home okay.”

“How did you know I was coming home?”

“I didn’t.”

“How did you know I was coming homealone?”

“I didn’t.” His fists clenched and released. “I thought about that, wonderin’ how I’d handle it. I can tell you now, for fuckin’ sure, it wouldn’t have been good. Now, let’s get you to bed. Yeah?” He reached around me to unlock the door and push it open.

I heard Jake throw the lock back into place as I started towards my room. When I went into the bathroom, he stopped in the hall outside the door.

“Don’t stand out there!” I ordered.

Or giggled.

Most likely giggled.

“Why?”

“I have to do something and I don’t want you to hear.”

I heard Jake’s deep laughter. “You gotta pee?”

“Nooooooo!” I vehemently denied. “Now go away!”

“Alright, but only ‘cause I can’t resist you when you’re bossy. I’ll be in your room.”

“Okay, baby,” I mumbled.

After taking care of my nightly routine, I walked back into the bedroom, still in my clothes and heels.

“These shoes might do wonders for my legs and ass, but my feet freakin’ hurt. I need comfy,” I muttered to myself, opening up a dresser drawer. I pushed aside nighties and pajamas but couldn’t find what I wanted.

Jake cleared his throat next to me. “Colorful.”

“Shh. They’re my rebellion,” I whispered

“Panties are your rebellion?” Jake’s head tilted to the side. The angle drew my attention to his strong jaw.

With no impulse control in my drunken state, I reached my hand up. My eyes followed the motion as I ran my fingertips lightly along his jaw.

So soft and so hard, much like another part of him that I wanna touch.

I giggled and then sighed as I dropped my hand to continue my search for pajamas.

“Remember that awful black dress I wore when I was with James?”

“Yeah,” Jake clipped, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“That’s what my mother likes me to wear. Conservative, tasteful, and most definitely covering. A lot of neutrals and muted colors. When I was around fifteen, Anna, our… a friend of our family, introduced me to the wide variety of lace, satin, and silk. It’s all I’ve worn ever since. I might have on a dull beige dress but I’m Technicolor underneath. It’s my rebellion. Well, that and my hair.”

“Your hair?”