Chapter Eighteen
I was swaying my hips and mixing the kick-ass chili I made when a song I had forgotten all about came through my little speaker. The strumming of the guitar was like having an epiphany. I grabbed the spoon I was stirring with, seductively licked it clean, and started singing the words into the spoon like it was a microphone.
I started belting out the lyrics toStacy’s Momby Fountains of Wayne in the kitchen, and made a decision that, whenever I had a girl, because I would have one of course, that I would name her Stacy. I was going to be Stacy’s mom. I would be a MILF. This song was going to be dedicated to me one day. It was now a life goal.
I swished my hair around like the rock star I was and started giving this song my everything. This was my song, after all. The song was coming to an end, I was mid-hair twirl and boob grab when I saw him leaning against the wall, watching me. BUSTED.
“Wonderful performance.” He was fighting back laughter, with a big grin plastered on his face.
“Well, it’s my song, sooo…” I finished my hair flip and gave my boob one last grab for his viewing pleasure.
“Your song?” His head turned to the side like a confused dog. It was cute.
“I’m going to be Stacy’s mom. When I have a girl, I’m going to name her Stacy, and I will be her hot mom that her friends will want to see. A MILF.” I gestured to my body like it was obvious they would want to see this hot mess. He shook his head but that laugh he was holding onto came out. It was going to come true one day; he could laugh all he wanted.
“Mad woman.” He walked over to me and kissed me. It was a possessive type of kiss, a sweet kiss. One that saidI can’t believe I like your brand of crazy, but I do. I really do.
I kissed him, then smacked his ass with my spoon. He pulled back to look at me.Did you really just smack me on the ass with a spoon?was written all over his face. I had ayeah, bitch, what are you going to do about it?expression on my face.
We were having a conversation with our facial expressions and it was fun.
“The spoon did it all on its own. I had no control over it.” I did it again and held a semi-serious face. I was in a playful mood and currently that meant smacking Jake on his delectable derriere. How he reacted would show me a lot about this thing between us, and by the look on his face, he was going to retaliate and I should run. Now.
I did.
I took off and headed up the stairs. He caught me at the last step, took me to the ground with my ass up in the air. I laughed loudly when he popped my ass with some sort of kitchen utensil. Spatula, maybe?
“Ah!” I cried out and laughed at the same time.
Then he abandoned his weapon and moved on to a far more painful form of torture: tickling me.
I thrashed and tried to get him back, or get away, but I was completely at his mercy. I saw the two cats were coming in to join the fun. Both Binksie and Casey were intrigued by my screams. They batted their paws at both Jake and me, not sure whose team they were on here.
I managed to turn my body around so he was facing me, wedged between my legs. He was still tickling me but I managed to get a jab of my finger in a few times, until he grabbed my wrists with one hand and pinned them above my head. Our faces were inches away from each other, and suddenly the playfulness left the air. Only thing left was the static sexual tension and emotions.
This would be a moment of declarations. I looked into his eyes and saw it in him, too. If he could say what he was thinking and not scare me off, he would.
“I know,” I whispered to him. He didn’t need to say it. From the look in his eyes, I understood it perfectly. I wasitfor him. I crawled out from under him and went back downstairs to turn the stove off. There was so much tension between us, and most of it was my doing. I was fighting this tooth and nail. I was off my rocker completely. Giving it a shot one minute, then running away the next. Maybe I should have him just take me out back and put me out of my misery.
“Dinner’s done,” I announced and Jake came down the stairs, not acknowledging the big elephant in the kitchen. Or so I thought.
His arms wrapped around me, turning me in his embrace.
“What’s going on in your head? Be straight with me, sweetheart. Remember?” I did say I was a straight shooter, and he wanted that from me, like I wanted it from him. He had been nothing but straight with me this whole time.
“This whole place scares me,” I admitted. It was hard to say out loud, but I did it. His eyebrows pinched in the middle, he was confused.
“It’s not the creatures. I’m not afraid I’m going to get bitten or anything.”
“Elaborate, sweetheart.” The dramatic flair in me reared her head. I pulled out of his arms and started my flailing.
“I could like it here and that scares me. This isn’t me. This life isn’t me. You’re too damn amazing for your own good and your evil plan to keep me is working and it freaks me the hell out.” There. I voiced my thoughts. Jake was digging his way inside me and I feared it would soon be too late to get him out.
“Maybe what you wanted isn’t what you need. Maybe what you need is here. Change is okay, sweetheart. Change can reveal a future you never thought possible. Whatever you want, you can have.” He took a step closer.
“I can give you the world, sweetheart.” He meant it, but alas, that was where my problem lay. I didn’t know what I wanted. I wanted him. But I wanted my salon, I wanted a family, I wanted to be a soccer mom. I didn’t want to go back to my empty apartment when this week was over. But I wasn’t sure I could stay here, either.
“I don’t know what I want.” I gave it to him straight.
