His arm comes to rest around my shoulder and his lips press to my hair. My mind is spinning anyway, but this is the most affectionate he’s been with me, ever. And yet, he acts like it’s natural. He speaks in the low, calm voice he uses with Cane when he’s being a shit. “You’re not going anywhere today. First, I’m going to help you get back in bed, okay?”
My eyes well and I chance a look at him. “You can’t see me like this.”
He doesn’t laugh, or crack a joke, or do any of his normal Jake-isms. His thumb moves over my shoulder where his arm’s still around me. “Why not?”
“Because if I’m weak, you can control me.”
He freezes, eyes fixed on the carpet next to the trash can. “I would never do that to you.” He lifts his gaze to meet mine and his hand rests where my knee is folded. “You feel like you’re done getting sick?”
I nod, and he gives me a wary smile. “Will you let me put you back in bed?”
“Okay,” I eke out.
Jake helps me shift so he can get one arm behind my back and one under my knees. With a quiet “one, two,” I’m lifted to sit on my bed again. He makes it seem like I weigh nothing, and I definitely don’t weigh nothing. Jake turns me, carefully sliding my legs under the sheets. He tucks me in and shifts my pillow lower. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
* * *
I waketo a damp washcloth on my forehead and Jake sitting on the edge of my bed. “Small sips, Darcy. Then you can take a nap. We’re going to get through three small sips before I leave.”
I groan and he grumbles, “Ohhh, Jake’s so mean,” in a high-pitched voice. A tiny smile curves my lips and he lets out a dry laugh. “There you go. Jokes will get you up.”
His arms hook behind me and he helps me sit up, fluffing a pillow behind me to make it more comfortable. He holds out the bottle and steadies the straw with his fingers so I can drink. My stomach is none too happy as the first sip hits it.
“So I’m just dehydrated?” I ask.
“So dehydrated I think you gave yourself heat exhaustion, boss.”
I’m overwhelmed, just shy of having a complete meltdown. My breaths are shaky and my eyes sting again. The Rob programmed inside me starts up his tirade.
You were stupid and now everyone has to suffer.
You’re down a worker because you were too in your head to take care of yourself.
My breathing grows choppy and I can’t do this. I can’t do it here, in front of him. But it doesn’t feel like I have a choice. My body’s letting out everything my mind’s been holding onto.
I fall apart.
Jake wraps me up in a warm, firm embrace. “It’s alright.”
“I’m scared,” I whimper.
Those big, plush lips I’ve been admiring for the last four weeks press to my forehead, and I cry a little harder. “What are you scared of?”
“I feel so out of control.” I grow hysterical, full ugly crying.
“The farm’s fine, Darce.”
“It’s not just the farm.” I wind up to rant, and Jake holds me back so he can look me in the eye. “Everything’s a mess. I’m only here because I detonated my life and ran home. I’ve got no plans and no life and I don’t even know anyone here anymore because I’ve been gone so long and all my fears are coming true because, despite my best efforts, I’m alone. I’m alone, and I dug this hole myself because I . . . I,” I struggle to finish.
Jake rubs my leg through the sheets. “You’re not alone. You’ve got me.” He swallows hard. “You’ve got us.”
My lip does that pathetic sucking-quivering thing as I fight for air. “But what about in two months? Becca’s going to get her farm and you and Caleb are going to school and I’m just the girl who ran away from her life. I don’t have anyone to walk this road with me.”
I expect him to argue with me, to tell me I’m seeing it wrong. But he surprises me, his soft amber eyes meeting my watery ones. “I feel alone sometimes too. It’s not like Caleb and I are going to school together. I don’t have a lot of close friends here. My sisters have their own lives. My mom too. I’ll be back to my own lonely road in a couple months.”
“You’re not alone,” I rush to say because the thought of him feeling lonely breaks me a little. “You’ll have me.”
“Not if you move on to bigger and better things.” Jake smirks at using my own words against me. “Our situations aren’t that different. And . . .” He pauses. “If you need somebody to talk to about whatever you’re running from, you’ve got me.”
