More Than This

“Because he’s fucking mine!” I growl out. “And if I so much as see you look at him again, the next thing you’ll be gawking at is my fist coming towards your face! Got it?”

“I swear to god, Micky,” Lucy snarls at her, Cam’s pretending to hold her back, amused by her drunk state. “I’ll cut a bitch for you, just let me go, Cam. Let me go!” she yells, trying to fight his grip.

Tramptits walks away and we all burst into laughter. I don’t know how it went from heated rage to hilarious, probably Lucy, and the fact that we’re all drunk. Jake puts his arm around my shoulders. “I’m so fucking turned on right now,” he says.

***

Jake surprises everyone by getting on the karaoke stage. Mic in hand, looking down, blush creeping to his cheeks. He clears his throat and then speaks into the Mic.

“This is umm… this is for my girlfr-" he cuts himself off when my eyes bug out, because I’m not. His girlfriend, I mean, not yet. And it’s not fair to him. Because I’m not ready, but I’m also not ready for him to move on either. “Um, I mean my Kayla. Just my Kayla. Just um, mine,” he has a little smile on his face and it’s so fricken adorable.

And then the music starts…

And we all laugh…

Because it’s One Direction.

He starts the song off and it’s so sexy because his accent is in full force and I want him. Really want him. With everything I have. And I hope one day, I can give him all of it.

***

When we get home I go straight to the bathroom and start getting ready for bed. He comes up behind me and kisses the bare skin on my shoulder, so lightly, for a second I think I imagined it.

“Kayla?” he’s looking at me through the mirror.

I close my eyes. “Mmm?”

He turns my body around and kisses my forehead.

His hands go to my waist, as they lift me onto the counter, his chin leaning on my shoulder.

He spreads my legs and stands between them, but doesn’t make a move to do anything else.

He’s looking at me now, like, he sees me for the first time and tears begin to pool in his eyes. I have no idea what he’s thinking or feeling so I spin his cap backwards and take his face in my hands.

“Whats going on, Jake?”

He clears his throat and looks away from me.

“Jake?” I ask again.

He speaks so softly I almost don’t hear him. “Are you, I mean I know we haven’t spoken about it, and things changed, I mean, that night at the bonfire… things haven’t been the same with us,” he clears his throat again. “Are you still mine? Are you still my Kayla?”

I don’t know what to say to him.

I don’t know if I am.

But I know I don’t want to be anyone else's.

“If you still want me,” I whisper.

He huffs out a relieved breath.

“I more than a lot want you, so much more than a lot.”

***

*Jake*

“Sleep with me tonight?” I ask her.

“What?” her eyes are huge.

I chuckle. “Not like that, just sleep. I miss you in my arms. I miss it so fucking much, Kayla. I just want you near me.”

“Okay,” she says smiling at me.

She sits on the edge of the bed next to me.

We’re both a little quiet now, thinking I guess.

It will be the first time since the bonfire that we’ll be sleeping together.

“Kayla… I uh,” I clear my throat. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” She whispers.

“I know that you said you wanted to move out, and you have your reasons and I respect that.” I pause and take a few breaths, because I don’t want to sound angry or pissed off when I say the next part. “I just… please… don’t move near that guy. I just… I don’t trust him, and he wants you-"

“Jake-"

“No Kayla, I know your naive when it comes to these things but he does, and I… I mean, you’re-"

“Jake, stop. I’m not going to. I wouldn’t. I know how you feel and I wouldn’t do that to you. I respect your feelings and I would never do anything that would make you question mine.”

I take her hand in mine and kiss her palm.

How some jerk-off had her, and treated her like shit, I’ll never understand. I’m going to be the luckiest asshole in the world when she finally lets me love her.

Chapter 42

*Jake*

I open the front door and she’s sitting at the dining table, shoe box and a bazillion magazines and craft stuff in front of her.

“What are you doing? Decoupage?”

She eyes me curiously and starts to laugh.

“What?” I say. “Mom went through a craft phase when she was pregnant with Ju-ju. Seriously though, what are you doing?”

I drop my gear bag near the front door and walk over to her.

She has a bunch of teeny bopper magazines in front of her. She’s cutting pictures out of them, Justin Bieber and One Direction, some dudes form those Vampire movies and the ones where kids kill each other.

I look at her for a long moment. She just stares back.

“You’re not going on a stalker road trip with Heidi are you?” I ask seriously.

She laughs.

I walk to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water and walk back to her.

I sit on the chair next to her and she gets up and sits on me.

We haven’t spoken about what happened the night of Logan's frat party. We haven’t made anything official and we still haven’t kissed. That kissing part, is quickly driving me crazy. Everything else, I don’t mind. We sleep in my bed every night and we more than a lot like each other, that’s enough for me for now, but not forever. Soon, we’re going to have to talk about it.

I put my hand on her waist and she puts her arms around my neck. I kiss her temple.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” she whispers.

“Spending the day with you?”

She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Whats going on, Kayla? Did something happen?”

She removes herself from me and sits back down on her chair. She picks up the scissors and starts cutting the magazines again. She’s quiet, and I let her be.

Because I know this side of her. She’s working up the courage to speak. So I wait.

“It’s Emily’s Birthday tomorrow.” She says quietly, putting down the scissors then looking up at me, tears filling her eyes.

Shit.

I pull her chair closer to me, then lift her and cradle her like I used to.

“We used to do this thing, as a family, like a tradition. On the 2nd of January every year we’d sit down and make ourselves these boxes.” She points to the shoebox. “We’d stick pictures on them of things that remind us of that year. Like, what we were into at the moment, guys, movies, songs, anything. We’d leave an opening at the top, kinda like a mailbox, and we stored them in the Kitchen pantry. Whenever someone did something worth remembering we’d write it on a notecard and put it in their box. It wasn’t even if it was worth remembering, just… I don’t know, anything, really. Like, if someone did something nice, or made you laugh. Those sorts of things. I remember one year I put in Emily’s that I saw her picking her nose and eating it.” She laughs a sad laugh.

“We started it when I was about 5 and we used to make Emily’s until she was about that age too.” Tears are ru