Page 70 of Mr. Brightside

“I’m serious, baby. If you get to be possessive, then I get to be protective.” I kiss the top of his head and squeeze him tighter. “If she’s got you twisted and worked up like this, she needs a wake-up call. Tell me what happened. Tell me how I can help.”

He sighs again, this time craning back to look me in the eye.

“I just… I feel like I keep having to defend it. Our marriage. Us. I keep insisting this is real. But the more I dig my heels in, the more I worry that I’m wrong.”

I scowl as he speaks his unease about what we’ve become. No way is Lia or anyone else going to make him doubt what I feel with every fucking beat of my heart.

“Tell me I’m not crazy, Jake. Tell me you feel it… that you’re in it, too.”

“Cory.” I slam my fist into the cage above his head, startling us both. But fuck, it feels like words aren’t enough right now. He has to know. He has to fucking feel it.

“It’s real,” I swear, my words a solemn vow. “Every breath. Every moment. Every day. I live for you, baby. I wake up thinking about you. I fall asleep with you in my arms, and it still doesn’t feel close enough. I ache for you when we’re apart.”

I bow my head and brush my lips against his.

“This is the realest thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s so fucking real it scares me. But it’s worth it.You’reworth it.”

I seek his lips again, kissing him once, twice, a dozen times until he’s smiling against my mouth.

“Be real with me,” I whisper.

He nods, and something passes between us then. It’s more intimate than anything else we’ve shared; more serious than the wedding vows we recited a month ago. It’s deep. It’s true. It’s me and him. It’s us, doing this together. And it’s everything I never knew I wanted.

Chapter 30

Jake

It’sprobablyoneofthe last nice days we’ll have this year, so I’ve got the girls at the splash pad for the afternoon. Not that the temperature matters to them. It could be sixty degrees and breezy, and they’d still beg me to bring them here.

Ashleigh was invited to some sort of women’s alumni luncheon at Archway Prep. When she texted and asked if I was free, I was ecstatic—I see my nieces way less frequently during the school year, so a little bonus Saturday fun was an instant yes from me.

“Hey, Uncle Jakey!” Amelia screams, even though she’s only about ten feet away.

“What’s up, Meemers?”

She giggles at one of her many nicknames, then jumps up and runs at me, flinging her wet body around my legs.

“Wait a second!” I laugh, reaching for her Jack Skellington towel to use it as a buffer between us. Too late. My shorts and my shoes are soaked. I couldn’t care less. Not when she’s looking up at me and smiling like that.

I wrap her up like a burrito, then lift her upside down until she’s giggling so hard I’m afraid she’ll pee on me if I don’t right her.

“Wanna hear a joke?” she asks once she’s settled on my lap.

“Hit me.”

Her eyebrows scrunch together in the cutest way.

“That means yes, tell me,” I explain as I tickle her again.

“What’s a pirate’s favorite type of pants?”

What the heck? Kids are so weird.

“I don’t know,” I finally relent. “Whatisa pirate’s favorite type of pants?”

“Arrr-gyle!” she screams, before bursting into a fresh fit of giggles.

Fiona joins us then, scowling. “She always mixes that one up,” she explains with her hands on her hips.