Page 33

33

JACOB

“What the actual fuck is this?” A familiar voice wakes me up from my deep slumber.

My eyes pop open; my heart takes flight at the speed of light, making me spring out of the bed, naked. Shit.

Owen.

He’s standing at the foot of my bed, pointing at a still-sleeping Skye, her tattooed leg hooked outside of the bedcovers; she’s wrapped around the comforter. She looks fucking edible.

Fuck.

“I can explain.” I hold my hands up, bending at the same time to reach for my jeans.

“Explain?” Boiling with fury, his face turns red. “I think it’s pretty fucking clear.”

Quicker than a heartbeat, I step into my jeans, pull them over my hips, tuck my cock in and zip them up.

“So you two are fucking?” His nostrils flare as he grinds his teeth together.

Skye grumbles, pulling the covers up over her head. “Why is the television on?”

Owen ignores her. “Is this what you’ve been so fucking desperate to speak to me about? To tell me you’ve been sleeping with my girlfriend?” He shoots me a sour look.

“She’s your ex. Has been for months,” I correct him. “You’re getting married, remember?”

A small gasp and mumble of “ Oh no ” from under the covers escapes as Skye finally wakes up.

“You are unbelievable, Jacob.” He pulls his hair in distress. “I can’t deal with this.”

He turns on his heels, storming out of the room.

“Don’t go, Owen. Let me explain,” I shout after him, pulling the covers down from Skye’s face. “Get up, get dressed, now.” My eyes widen, begging her to do as I ask.

“How did he get in?” she whispers.

“He has a key. Text Lincoln for me. Tell him to come here. Right now.”

“Oh my God, Jay. This is not good.” She leaps out of the bed as I run out the doorway.

“Owen.” I jog down the corridor into my living space and find him staring out of the windows at the evergreen fields around my house.

“How long?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Last night was the first time we…” I need air. I can’t breathe.

“Is that why you hired that fucking PI? Like some sort of superhero? How long?”

My voice raises. “I just told you, last night was the…”

“You’re a fucking liar, Jay.” He turns around, angry energy bouncing off him. I can feel it from across the room as I move toward him, closing the space between us.

“I’m not. I didn’t touch, kiss, or sleep with her until last night.” I gather all the strength I have, straightening myself up to full height.

“And before then? Have you been messing about with her behind my back?” he yells in my face.

“It’s not like that.” I show no signs of backing down, as I refuse to deny how I feel about Skye.

“Explain what the fuck it’s like, then?” His face is tormented with confusion.

Skye runs into the room, looking panicked, dressed in my tee shirt from yesterday. “Owen, stop this.” She piles her hair on top of her head, making my top creep up her thighs.

If she lifts her arms any higher, she’ll flash her pussy at him.

Aw hell, he’s already seen it. Fuck, I feel sick.

“Stop? I haven’t even started.” He scoffs. “I fucking know you, Jay. You’ve had several girlfriends, but none of them ever live up to your standards and then you move on. But you like to fuck all night to keep them happy.” He sneers.

I clench my jaw tight. “Is that how you see me?” I thread my hands on top of my head and pace back and forth. “Fuck, Owen, if you’d paid enough attention, then you’d know why none of them lived up to what I wanted.”

“What, did none of them give good head or like it rough enough?”

Skye gasps at his crass remark.

“How fucking dare you, Owen.” I throw him a brutal stare. “You are so far off the mark.”

“How far?” he laughs mockingly.

“Try Skye fucking high off the mark.” I point at her. “That’s how far.”

He looks confused.

“I’m in love with Skye and have been for years.” My loud words echo across the open space.

His head shoots back as if struck by lightning, brows dipping low. “What?”

“You fucking asked her out in high school, knowing that I liked her.”

“No, I fucking didn’t.”

“Yes, you did!” I roar. “Trust me, I know you and how you work. You think you know me, but you know fuck all about me or Skye. You never cared about her. Everything you did, organized, or went to, there always had to be something in it for you. You never, ever put her first. But I did. Always.”

“You’re fucking delusional.”

I’ll be damned if he thinks I am. “Who took her home from prom when she ripped her dress?” I storm across the room in his direction.

“Me?” He looks at me like I’m an idiot.

“Mehhh.” I make the noise of a buzzer. “Wrong. It was me.” I dig my finger into my chest. “Who helped Skye fill out her art college application? Who went with her to her first driving lesson because she was nervous? Who went to her college interview with her? Who organized your five-year anniversary meal at that fancy restaurant in London she always wanted to go to that appeared on that television cooking show? And who else knows that when she’s happy she sings to herself? Did you ever pay attention to anything or even care about her?”

“Can you hear yourself? You sound like an obsessive stalker. He’s talking shit, Skye, tell him.” He points from her to me.

She shakes her head. “He’s not wrong, Owen.” Her voice is gentle. “He’s right about everything.”

“That’s not right.” He waggles his finger at me, dismissing me, almost accusing me of being a liar. “I care. Don’t I?”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” Skye hugs her arms around herself.

Owen takes a moment to himself as he looks out of the windows again.

I step closer to him, no longer caring if he fucking punches me or not. I will fight to the death for her. “Owen, I would never do anything to hurt you.” He keeps looking ahead. “I am in love with her. I hid my feelings for so long. Then I told Skye when we were in London. Something happened between us at the office a few weeks before that. But I swear on my life, I never touched her.” I leave out the part where I made her touch herself. “What started as a spark turned into something bigger. I’ve tried to speak to you so many times, but you kept ignoring my calls, and that’s what I was coming to your house about today, to tell you how much Skye and I want to be together, then last night…”

“I turned up here and told Jacob I love him.” Skye steps by my side, exuding confidence like I have never seen before, and if Owen wasn’t standing there right now, I would kiss her.

“Right.” He turns and throws us both a fake smile. “Well, I hope you’ll be happy together.” He storms past us, heading for the door.

“Owen, p-please don’t be like that,” Skye stammers at his cynicism of us.

Owen spins back around. “Like what? What exactly should I be like? You’ve just told me you’ve been in love with the girl I have spent half my life with. Told me that for fourteen years you’ve harbored all of these feelings for her, but you never acted on it? I don’t believe a word of it.”

I’ve never been a liar. I can’t believe he would think I was lying right now. Screams of frustration bubble in my chest. “Hey, the reason I didn’t was because of our pact. Remember the one we made, no kissing ex-girlfriends or sisters? That’s why.”

He lets out a maniacal laugh. “Fucking hell, you didn’t think we were serious, did you?”

Lincoln runs through the door out of breath. “Oh, thank Christ, you’re both still alive.” Fighting for air, he clutches his chest.

“You knew?” Wide-eyed, Owen asks Lincoln.

“Sort of. Not really. But it’s really fucking obvious. Have you seen the way he looks at her and follows her around like a lovesick puppy?”

Someone kill me.

Lincoln keeps talking, not giving Owen a chance to respond. “I heard you talking. I kept my end of the bargain on our pact.”

“What? That stupid pact we made when we were thirteen?” Owen’s brow wrinkles.

“Fourteen,” I correct him.

“Well, I broke that two weeks after we made it, when I kissed your sister out on the porch at your house.” He looks at me smugly. “Bonus points for the boob squeeze.”

“What?” Lincoln and I both shout at the same time.

Asshole.

“Angela Blackwood too.” Owen looks at Lincoln.

“She was my first girlfriend.” His mouth falls open in shock.

I look directly at Owen. “You’re a prick.”

“It takes one to know one.” He points at me. “And you’re wrong about me. I did care for you, Skye, maybe not how Jacob does, but I did. I always bought you nice things.”

“I don’t need things, but what makes it worse is that Jay bought me those things. You still haven’t given him the money for the tablet and stylus pen,” Skye fires back, getting her point across.

“Fuck sakes, can a guy not catch a break?” He pushes his fingertips into his closed eyes. “Is this gang-up-on-Owen day? Did I not take you to the nice parties my mother threw and buy you nice dresses?” He looks at Skye for an answer.

“You gave me the money to buy something new, but Jay always went with me to the shops to make sure I looked the part. Then your mother would parade other women in my face because she thought they were more suitable for you. And usually, you would spend it flirting, eye-fucking those suitable women, and Jay and I would end up dancing and drinking the night away. He was always the one who took me home. He cares about me, Owen. He always has.”

He pulls out a chair around my dining table and falls into it. Head in his hands, he mumbles, “What the fuck is wrong with me? How have I not seen this?” He runs his hands through his hair as if distressed. “Is your favorite movie The Princess Bride ?” He looks at Skye, waiting for an answer.

Skye smiles. “Yeah. I didn’t think you knew that.”

“I didn’t. Jay told me the other day.” He blinks with bafflement.

“Do you know how long Jacob has been in love with me for?” She walks over to Owen and sits next to him.

Mouth downturned, he shakes his head.

“Have you seen Jacob’s tattoo on his back?” She takes his hand.

He frowns again.

I want the world to swallow me up.

“Those words he has written, whatever, however, forever , it’s his code for I love you . Jay and I… we love each other. He’s loved me for, well, since high school, well, forever. He said those words to me on the first day we met when we spoke about code words for I love you . Those are his. For me. But he’s never acted on his feelings. Not once. Not ever. I promise you.”

Standing in just my jeans, my whole body feels hot. My cheeks heat under Lincoln’s grinning stare.

Yup, anyone, just fucking kill me, right about… now.

I don’t want to talk about my feelings in front of my two huge, burly friends. While Lincoln could talk about his feelings all day, I am fine just keeping them to myself. Thank you very much.

“Is that what that fucking means? You got that tattoo like last year.” He sits back in his chair. “Oh my God.” Realization falls over his face. “And the book, the clouds and the blue sky, the snowdrops and the castle? You did that for her?”

The room goes quiet.

“Jesus Christ, you really do love her. You’re a fucking hopeless romantic.”

He stares at me with a mixed look of confusion and admiration. “I wanted to punch you earlier and now I can’t do that.” Owen bites his bottom lip. “I should maybe thank you for loving my girl the way she deserves to be loved.”

I don’t know what the hell to say to that.

“I’m not your girl anymore and maybe you could start by apologizing to me.” Skye pats the back of his hand. Her strength knows no bounds today. She’s having her say and making sure we sort this.

“What for?”

“Blaming me for encouraging the seriously unwell man that abducted me?”

“I need a lesson in sensitivity.” He rubs his forehead. “Am I really that bad?”

Lincoln squeezes his shoulder. “You live in a different world, filled with yes-people who would literally lick your feet if you asked them to. We keep you grounded.”

Tense lines of worry tighten more. “I’m sorry, Skye. If I ever did anything or said anything to hurt you. That was never my intention. My life is a fucking mess. I can’t do anything right,” he groans.

Our poor friend is suffering in ways we can’t imagine; if he would just speak to us, maybe we could help, or at least listen.

Knowing I’m safe from being punched—although I would have let him; I’d do anything for her—I sit down at the table beside Skye. Instinctively, she rests her hand on my thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“You can tell us about it,” I offer.

For the first time since he arrived, he smiles at me, genuinely. “Nah. I’ve done enough talking and sharing today.” Although I can feel the pain in his voice.

He considers what he says next. “This is like, whoa, a lot . So you two, huh?”

Skye smiles, lifting her shoulders to her ears. “Yeah.” She looks so fucking happy, happier than she ever was with Owen. “We were going to tell you. I promise.”

We all fall quiet again. In meetings, I’m great with words. Right now, I’m speechless. This is not how I saw this panning out.

Owen can’t stop looking at us seated together. “You look good together. I see that whole opposites attract thing now. The tatted bad boy and the sweet, innocent blonde. Although she’s more like Harley Quinn if you piss her off.”

Skye chuckles. “I don’t have a baseball bat.”

I’ll buy her one if it means she dresses up for me in a Harley Quinn costume. She’d look hot as fuck in those little red and blue shiny hotpants and pigtails.

I’ll maybe suggest that later.

Owen pushes his chair back. “Fuck.” He looks at us both again. “This is going to take some getting used to, and it’s too early for this shit. I need a drink.”

“Please don’t do that, Owen.” Skye urges him not to fall back down the hole he’s been in.

“Maybe later.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Shit, I gotta go. See you around, bab—Skye.”

“I would hug you goodbye, but I don’t have any underwear on,” she says, innocently.

I pull my hand down my face. Owen’s right, this is going to take some getting used to. “Fucking hell,” I mumble.

I hear Lincoln chuckle as he heads to the front door. “Good chat, boys. I’m still pissed off at you for kissing Angela Blackwood.” He throws shade over his shoulder at Owen as he leaves.

“And my sister,” I pipe up.

He points at Skye, who is walking back to the bedroom, waving goodbye. “Don’t. Even. Go. There.”

“Deal.”

He shoves his hands into his pockets. “You love her?”

“With my whole fucking heart.”

“I’m sorry if you feel like I took her from you.” Pain etches across his face. “I didn’t know you had such strong feelings for her.”

“You knew,” I remind him and emphasize my point. “All those years ago, I told you and then you went ahead and asked her out anyway. You knew that I liked her, Owen.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, man.”

“You treated Skye like shit.”

His forehead wrinkles. “I was a shitty boyfriend.”

“You were.”

“And an even shittier friend. I’m really fucking sorry, Jay.”

“What’s done is done. Bygones.” I can’t let what has happened linger any longer. She’s mine now. Excitement bubbles in my chest at that thought.

“How can I ever make it up to you?” He looks at me like I have all the answers.

“You don’t have to. Skye and I are together now. That’s all I have ever wanted.” Honesty rolls off my tongue.

He waits a beats before he says, “Promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t break her heart like I did.”

I don’t think you did.

“And hold on to her. Love her better than I ever could have. She’s?—”

“I know.” He doesn’t need to tell me how incredible she is. I already know. “Look, this is not how you were supposed to find out. I wanted to tell you face to face.”

Before I can comprehend what’s happening, he pulls me into a fierce hug and slaps me fondly on the back. “You’re a good man, Jacob. I didn’t mean the things I said about you.”

“I forgive you, but you have to forgive me, too. I should have told you years ago.”

We let go of each other.

“It’s done now, Jay, and hey, I have a new fiancée to look after now. Maybe I’ll do a better job with her?”

“Or maybe you need to find your own woman who actually loves you for you, that you love so fucking fiercely you may even want to buy your own Christmas presents for her, and not someone your mother tells you to marry.”

He considers that for a moment. “Touché. Good one. How would I do that?”

“Stand up for yourself. Tell your parents where to shove it. Sell your house. Disown them? You’ve been unhappy for years, Owen.”

“Yeah. That sounds like financial suicide.” He pulls another fake smile. I know him so well, I can tell. “I’m off. Oh, I will leave my key.” He pulls it from his pocket. “I don’t ever want to walk in on, well, you know.” Then he turns to leave.

Smirking, I nod. Yeah, I never want that to happen either.

He stops walking, then swivels back round to face me. “I never would have punched you. You’re my boy. You know that, right?”

I nod my head.

He keeps going. “She’s been through enough trauma. I would never, ever , have been violent in front of her, or hurt you. That wouldn’t be fair to her.”

Christ, maybe he does have a heart after all.

With a wink, Owen leaves.

“Thanks for not punching me,” I call after him.

“I’m too pretty for jail,” he shouts back. “So is Lincoln. You’d fit right in, though.” We both full-belly-laugh as he shuts the door.

With excitement brewing in my belly, I run… fucking run, to my girl.

We’re gonna be just fine.