Chapter 198


    I stand in the shower for an unbelievably long time, the hot water pouring down me, refreshingly, helps


    to push the nausea down. I’m aching at everything so familiar about being here, so many memories


    and thoughts of Jake beside me. I feel like I’ve woken inside a dream, some strange alternate reality


    where I never left, and this feels like where I should be. It’s disconcerting and doesn’t help my


    emotionally confused state of mind at all.


    Fully cleansed of my shameful drunken night and drying myself I can hear noise in the apartment. The


    sound of music drifting though the walls and I know Jake must be back. I pause for a moment listening


    to the faint drifting of one of his favorite songs and the sound of a juicer going in the kitchen, emotion


    swirling in apprehension in my stomach. I’m nervous being here with him, being alone and having to


    face him.


    I pull on an oversized white bath robe and wander cautiously out through to therge open-n lounge,


    looking around for him, holding my breath. I’m like a jittery teen going on a first date.


    He has his back to me, dressed in a fresh T-shirt and jeans and seems to be making a smoothie or


    some sort of healthy drink, the blender is going strong, so he doesn’t hear me approach. I can’t help


    but watch the way his strong wide shoulders move and flex under his body hugging T-shirt, or the way


    his arms and biceps tense and grow with every bend and stretch. His masculine mannerisms strong


    with effortless ease and grace, the signs of a man confident in himself without the malice of cocky


    arrogance.


    I must admit, he’s the perfect specimen of manly form, just the thought of it makes me depressed.


    Every nerve in my body is torn between lust and betrayal, I want him, yet I don’t. I long for his touch yet


    I know it will only bring me pain. I miss those arms around me and those hands on me but know having


    them back would break me.


    The machine stops, and I watch from the other side of the counter as he pours half into a tall ss


    before turning my way with a flicker of surprise.


    “Hey, didn’t hear youing through.” He smiles, in his shy and charmingly beautiful way; it has the


    same effect on me that it always has. I mp my knee’s together as a wave of hot warmth rushes


    through my veins.


    Seems he hasn’t lost that ability over me anyway.


    “Here, your favorite smoothie. I figured you may need it seeing as you haven’t eaten anything yet.” He


    nods toward the te of croissants on the counter now covered in stic wrap. I take the tall ss,


    carefully avoiding his hand so we don’t touch and smile shyly. I pull my robe tighter across my chest


    and slide up onto the bar stool trying with every ounce of self-control to stop trembling and acting as


    awkward as hell.


    “Thanks, not sure I can drink it right now, but I’ll try.” I take a sip of the forest fruits, mango, and banana


    smoothie, touched that he would do it for me; but I gasp and swallow hard when the bile rises from my


    stomach. I put my drink down with a grimace and hold my throat until the nausea calms down.


    “Maybe just water?” He nods at me with a slight frown, before getting me a ss of iced water from the


    machine on the fridge.


    There’s a weird quiet atmosphere as he watches me sip, tension, and awkwardness, as though neither


    of us knows what to say first. I turn away from him around the room to find something to rest my eyes


    on that isn’t six feet two, sexy as hell, with an ability to break me into a million pieces. I can feel his


    body heat across the kitchen bar and the tingle of electricity in the air. Drawn back to him like a moth to


    a me. I nce up and down his fresh clothes and know for a fact he never came into his room for


    them, I motion with my ss at his attire shyly.


    “Why are you keeping clothes in the guest rooms?” I ask gently, confused by this unusual fact. He


    frowns at me for a moment before answering.


    “Because I can’t bear to be in there.” He nods toward his bedroom. “Without you … I had Nora move


    some of my things so I wouldn’t need to go in there at all.” He looks down at his hands awkwardly. I


    flinch, like he’s just sucker punched me in the stomach, it’s such a painful response. We look away


    from each other instantly.


    “I see.” I choke back the tears threatening to break loose and clear my throat to try to shift them away


    again.


    “I brought you something to wear when I took Sarah home. The bag is by the bedroom door.” He nods


    toward the pink hold all that belongs to Sarah, changing the subject quickly and I smile gratefully; only


    Jake would’ve had that kind of foresight.


    “Figured you would keep me in that dress if you had a choice.” I smirk at him and catch the tension in


    his face ease a little. Trying to lighten the heavy mood I created with my question.


    “I would have, but I think it needs dry cleaning first, you smelled like a breweryst night.” His devilish


    smile melts the pain in my heart slightly, and I slide off the chair. Jake’s trying for the light easy humor


    we used to have, it’s a little warming and helps with easing my nerves.


    “I think I’ll go get dressed. I don’t feel toofortable like this.” I point out, an instant pain in my heart


    at the hint of disappointment across in his face. Jake used to love me in nothing more than bathrobes;


    easy to peel apart and ess me underneath. This is a sign of how things are between us and without


    trying to wound him, I have.


    N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    “I’ll be here.” He throws on a brave smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I nod and move off, grabbing the


    bag as I pass, trying to remove the spike wedging itself in my heart.


    * * *


    I feel much better dressed in leggings and a silky camisole under a long, oversized, cashmere jumper.


    He chose one of my casual lounging at home outfits, whether it was deliberate, or Sarah had chosen it,


    but I’mfortable. They’re my much-needed hugs from clothes I would’ve chosen myself. I pull on the


    long thick socks leaving them wrinkled at my ankles.


    The nausea, headache, and overwhelming hangover are still lingering but that constant hunger I seem


    to have is starting to battle with it; urging me to eat after all. I’m not sure how well it’ll go down but I’m


    ravenous despite what is waiting for me out in the kitchen.


    I pad out into the lounge and see Jake hovering in the kitchen, messing with the expensive coffee


    maker, filling up the smallpartments. I never see much of his domesticated side when Nora is


    around, but he shows hispetence on the rare asions she has a day off.


    He turns with a timid smile, sensing my presence and puts down the packets he’s holding. We both


    know it’s time we talked and stopped evading this. I walk past him, retrieving the smoothie from the


    fridge, take a proper drink and he smiles at my efforts.


    “Do you want to sit here or in our room?” His gentleness makes me waver; he’s still calling it ‘our’ room


    and I can’t trust myself to not fall under his spell almost instantly if we were near that bed.


    “The couch.” I nod in the direction of the white leather and chrome behind him, and with trembling legs,


    I make my way to the padded seat and sit down, hating the tension that has suddenly thickened in the


    space between us.


    I push around some of the fluffy cushions I picked out a few weeks ago, nervous anticipation and


    stomach butterflies returning, and nestle myself near the side table so I can put my ss down. I


    haven’t up chucked it yet, surprisingly, it seems to be soothing my stomach. The aspirin is helping my


    head a little.


    He waits, then sits near me, still giving me space. His whole body is turned to me and his focus solely


    on my face. This close I can almost feel his touch, his smell is intoxicating, and his nearness a little too


    suffocating. I tip my head down, letting my damp hair cover me, suddenly aware how tired and pale I


    must look.


    I don’t want him to see me this way. I should’ve worn make-up or paid more attention to my


    appearance earlier!