We clean up the remains of dinner, and Jake settles us in front of his flat screen TV, tucking a blanket around me. Then picking up the remote, he scrolls down the options on the screen until he findsArmageddon.
After Jake hits play, he readjusts, drawing me closer to him, and I snuggle into his chest. This movie is one of my favorites, and I’ve always wanted to watch it with someone special. When I asked Weston to watch it with me, he got pissed and immediately selected another option without my input. In fact, I can’t remember a time when we saw my choice of movie, not his.
Being with Jake has only clarified how horrible Weston is. Why did I stay with him for so long? As sad as it seems, I wonder if I equated his controlling nature with feeling safe. Making decisions has always been terrifying for me, and with Weston, I never had to make any.
I glance at Jake. Maybe choices wouldn’t have been so terrifying if I’d known I had a soft spot to land.
In the movie, we are approaching the scene where AJ is leaving Grace to depart on his mission to save the world.
Jake starts singing “I’m Leaving On a Jet Plane” softly to me, and a deep warmth blossoms in my chest. It should feel like goodbye. But it doesn’t—not when he’s looking at me like that.
Somehow, even though the words say the opposite, I know what Jake’s actually saying.
I’m the calm to your chaos.
I’m the eye to your storm.
I’m your home.
Maybe, if I’m lucky, he’ll be the man who stays.
Chapter twenty-seven
Jake
I’m falling head over heels for Lucy.
Of course, it’s too soon, right? We’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but I’ve never felt this way before. I didn’t know what I was missing until I met her—every time we’re together, I feel whole and happy. After a lifetime of living under my father’s disapproval, I’ve found someone who truly makes me feel seen and valued.
And my God, the sex. I was being honest when I said I wasn’t expecting anything. Of course, I was hoping for a make-outsession; who wouldn’t? But then we had the hottest, most mind-blowing sex of my life. I’ll be keeping every second of it on a constant repeat loop in my mind. Even though I’ve just come, I’m constantly hard around her. My cock doesn’t know when it needs to take a break. Apparently, when Lucy is nearby, I need to get used to a perpetual hard-on.
But while the physical attraction is out of this world, that’s only because the rest of her is equally appealing. She’s an incredibly smart med student who is tackling an important research project to help others, she defended me at the Centennial Ball because Sterling was acting like an ass, she gets my issues with my family in a way Sam never has, she’s incredibly supportive, and I almost believe her when she says she loves my being a nurse. Plus, she’s just so fun to be around—I love our teasing banter and the adorable way she bounces with excitement at random ideas that float through her mind. We have so much in common: our taste in food and our love for music, not to mention singing. I can’t wait to sing more duets with her.
And movies. Even though I teased Lucy aboutArmageddon, I do like this movie for the elements of science fiction and romance. I’m guessing a large reason for Lucy’s choice was the famous Aerosmith song, “I Don’t Want To Miss a Thing.” The lyrics really hit close to home for me, and maybe they do for her too.
But Idon’twant to miss a thing with her. Every minute I spend with her, I want an hour more. I want time to memorize her face, her lips, her smile. I want to talk to her and feed her and take care of her for as long as she’ll let me.
Mostly, I just want to be the man at her side, cheering her on as she inevitably takes the world by storm.
As the credits roll, Lucy snuggles into me, sighing happily. Having her in my arms is one of my favorite new pastimes.
“I could do this forever,” she says, as if reading my mind.
“Me too,” I say, kissing her on the top of her head. As I stroke her back languidly, I ask, “Would you be open to singing with me again?”
We seem to be using music as another way to communicate (a language in which I’m fluent), and whether it’s discovering songs she loves, singing duets, or serenading her, I’m here for it.
Lucy turns to look at me. “Which song?”
Thinking, I scour my memory for something we can sing together. “Do you know ‘Sun and Moon' fromMiss Saigon?”
Lucy closes her eyes tightly, but a smile is already appearing on her face. “I love that one. How do you always pick the perfect song?”
Smirking, I gleefully grab Lucy’s hand and drag her to my keyboard. We squeeze onto the bench, and I relish the feeling of her pressed against me.
“Do you need the lyrics on my phone?” I ask, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t. She obviously has a connection to this song.
Sure enough, Lucy shakes her head, so I give her the first note. When she opens her mouth, her voice is sweet and clear. Because I’m so enthralled with the sound of her voice, I miss my entrance. Lucy giggles and pokes me in the ribs as I jolt back into the song, laughing too.
