Jase: It’s getting late. Thought maybe you’d need a ride. I’m pulling up outside.
Without a word, Billie gets up with my phone in hand and rushes out the front door of her apartment. Bailey and Raven chase after her, and once I'm up on my feet, I do so too.
The sound of Jase’s truck rumbles before we even see it. He pulls up slowly, headlights off, window already rolled down. “Whoa, there. I texted one and four appeared. It must be my lucky night.”
His hair is messy and wet, like he’s just gotten out of the shower, and his blue eyes glisten under the light of the moon. He’s casually dressed in a gray tee that hugs the muscles of his arms perfectly under a light blue and tan checkered flannel, and he almost looks better than he did shirtless the other day.
“Jameson,” Billie says. “Weird seeing you here?”
“Just came by to see if Monroe needed a ride.” He turns to me, his eyes connecting with mine as he smiles. “Saw your car in the driveway when I got home, figured you didn’t drive yourself.”
I clear my throat, and the sound that leaves my lips sounds nothing like me. “I was planning on probably just spending the night. I guess I should have said something to you.” The bastard nods with a wink when I explain.
“Well, since you came all this way,” Billie says, shoving me toward the truck. “Why don’t you just go home, Moe? We’ll see you tomorrow or next week for round two. Maybe at your place?”
I’m too tired and annoyed to argue, so I yank my phone out of Billie’s hand and wave my friends off with a middle finger in the air. “Fuck you guys. Goodnight, love you.”
Without turning off the engine, Jase exits the car and rounds to the passenger side. “Tired?” he asks, his voice low and soft.
I roll my eyes but smile at the memory of tonight. “Exhausted. They made me laugh until I nearly pissed myself.”
“Sounds like just what you needed.” He opens the door, helping me in gently, treating me like I might break, however, it doesn’t make me feel fragile. His hand lingers on the small of my back longer than necessary.
Once inside, I lean my head against the window, aware we still have an audience. The truck smells of cedar and spearmint gum, and the familiarity of it makes me nauseous. Like butterflies swarming inside, not because I’m pregnant and need to throw up.
“You okay?” he asks after a minute of silence as he settles in beside me.
“It just feels weird, them knowing about us. I know Bailey’s dating my brother, but I don’t know, this feels…”
He gently places a hand on my upper knee, his fingers softly tracing circles along my jeans, not aware of how the simple instinctive touch is making my core tighten with something a little stronger than desire.
“We can’t worry about how it feels to anyone but us. I already told you, I’m following your pace. You lead the way in everything. I just want to be a part of your life, of our baby’s life, in whatever aspect you allow me to be.”
His words continue to surprise me, but deep down I’m unable to trust them. It makes me uneasy to think he’s all in, and I still can’t get past the idea of him changing his mind. “You still want this? To do this together, even if things between us are awkward?”
His smile shifts into a teasing smirk as his eyes trail from my face down to the low-cut top I'm wearing under the soft baby blue cardigan. “They’re only awkward because you’re overthinking it too much. I want every version of this,” he says. “Even the one where you’re cranky and hormonal and taunting me by wearing that.”
I look down at the sliver of cleavage peeking out from the neck of my shirt and smile. “If this bit of skin gets you going, then we might be in for a rude awakening come summer.”
“Moonshine,” he says, his voice slick and smooth. “It’s not the soft, silky skin of your perfect tits that gets me hard. It’s the memory of how they felt in my hands, tasted on my tongue and the vision of what you look like underneath that has me salivating for more.”
I can't breathe. I can’t even fathom a response to his outright confession of what I do to him. Jase has never been shy. Not about what he likes or wants. But I don't know if I can handle the boldness when, just like him, I can't get the memories out of my head.
He reaches over and laces his fingers through mine. “Let’s go home.”
Home is nothing more than a place I am used to being empty. Ours is full of hope and a love capable of blossoming because he’s not asking for perfection, just a chance to make things work.
Chapter Eight
Jase
Past
Some people reveled in silence. Others grew desperate from the sound of their own thoughts. I fell into the latter category. Silence made me overthink, something I wasn’t typically guilty of, but tonight it felt like I couldn't stop my mind from drifting to thoughts of her.
Much like it had since the moment I had her.
The bar was quiet for a Friday night. The chatter of conversation felt slow as the vintage jukebox we’d installed rolled through a medley of old country songs now that our live band had taken off for the night. I was working a double, started the morning double-checking the inventory and swapping out our taps, and then manned the bar as Bailey took the night off to hang with her friends. Things were going along without a hitch until I spotted her.
