Page 226 of Pucking Around

“Wait,” I say. “Everybody fucking stop. Rachel, we’re not gonna play this game with you. At least, I know I’m not. I will not spend a single moment of my time convincing you to stay—”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Jake growls at me.

“I’m not being an asshole,” I counter. “I’m knowing my own self-worth. I don’t beg the people I love to love me back. Jake, get off your fucking knees, and stop being a pussy. If she wants to go, let her go. If she wants to stay, let her stay. We don’t try to convince her either way.”

“Agreed,” says Mars, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

Jake is at literal war with himself, the soft marshmallow side of him wanting to melt for her and stay on his knees. Then there’s the obstinate, confident, god of a man who rules a hockey rink. He wants to flip her over and spank her ass raw for daring to even think of leaving us. With a groan, he stumbles to his feet and steps back, his body tense as he comes over to stand by me.

“Good boy,” I say.

“Shut the fuck up,” he mutters, his face a mask of agony.

Rachel sits on the end of the bed she never sleeps in wearing nothing but her blue silk cami and a matching pair of sleep shorts. Her tousled hair frames her face, half of it up, half down.

“You wanna go, Rachel? Keep packing. Mars here will drive you to the airport, the bus depot, the cruise dock. Just tell him where, and he’ll take you. You wanna stay? We’ll be downstairs.”

I have to physically turn Jake around, pushing him out the door first, but the three of us walk out in silence, leaving the door open behind us, and troop down the stairs to the living room. I give Jake’s shoulder a nudge, and he sinks like a rock onto the couch.

“If she leaves us, I’ll never forgive you,” he mutters darkly, his gaze unfixed as he stares in the direction of the TV.

“Yes, you will,” I reply, sinking onto the couch next to him.

“Oh, you fucking think so?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because, if she leaves us, she didn’t love us enough to stay, respect us enough to let us make our own decisions, or want us enough to fight through this storm,” I reply. “My Hurricaneisthe fucking storm. When she remembers that fact, she’ll come down those stairs and stir us all up. Until then, give me the fucking remote. We’re watchingGreat British Bake Off.”

99

How did everything get so messed up? Five months ago, I was sitting at a bar in Seattle, wallowing in my professional failure, day drinking by myself…well, almost by myself. IwishedI was by myself.

Then in walked my Mystery Boy.

Now here I am, five months later, feeling like nothing has changed. I’m still alone. Still wallowing over a professional failure.

Onlyeverythinghas changed. I’ve changed. They’ve changed me. Jake, Caleb, Ilmari. They each took a piece of me and unraveled the threads, weaving their own threads back in with mine. The result is something entirely new. Something stronger. Something more beautiful than I could have ever made on my own.

I’ve been sitting in this room for the last hour, spiraling out of control. Like a skydiver without a parachute who takes their jump in the dark, I’ve been spinning, looking for anything to orient myself. Which way is up? Which way is down? How do I stop this feeling of free fall?

And then my Caleb gave me the anchor I needed.

Choice.

We all have a choice in this world. Stay or go. Love or hate. Fight or flee. I get to choose what happens next. I may not be able to control whether the Rays let me keep my job, but I can control how I respond to it.

Stay or go, Rachel?

Do I want to stay here? Do I want to stay with my guys?Yes, comes the deep voice of longing, echoing out from the very center of being. I want to stay. I want to belong here with them. My guys. My family.

Love or hate?

Do I love Jake Compton?

I smile, closing my eyes as my mind floods with the memories of our first night together. That man claimed me on that perfect night. Our souls entwined. It was fate. It was nature in poetic motion. He’s mine and I’m his. Loving him is easier than breathing. My joy and my happiness, he brings sweetness to my life. He centers me and makes me feel whole. Yes, I love Jake Compton.