Until Lexi

15

LEXI

Tattooing Jake today was a high like no other.

I still haven’t come down.

Not after I finished his tattoo.

Not after I drove to his house when I was done with work for the day.

Not after I stripped us both bare, climbed onto his lap, and rode him until we could barely move.

Not even now, as I lay cuddled up in bed with him, admiring the gorgeous black and gray anchor and flowers I inked on his skin only a few hours ago.

My first official tattoo.

And Jake fucking loves it.

I knew he would. When he saw it, he was speechless, which is unusual for him. When he finally found his voice, he said it was perfect, that it reminds him of me.

It’s more of a representation of us, but I’ll let him figure that out.

The anchor as a symbol of hope. A rose for beauty and courage. Plumeria to represent love and new beginnings. And of course, a few wildflowers. For happiness.

It’s similar to something I designed for myself, but when Jake said I could choose the tattoo design, I knew I wanted it for him.

I wanted to leave a piece of me on him.

Looking at the fresh ink, I smile.

Absolutely nothing could ruin this high.

“Lexi,” Jake murmurs low. “This thing between us… what are we doing?”

Except that.

I don’t mean for my body to tense. I especially don’t mean for Jake to feel it.

But he does, and he sighs.

I’m not sure I want to have this conversation. Not because I want to avoid it, but because I don’t know how to answer his question. I love hanging out with Jake, and the sex has ruined me for anyone else, but… it can’t be more than that. Can it? He lives in another state, and I’m not at a place in my life where I’m willing to pack up and move. I may never be. And maybe that’s selfish, but it’s honest.

“We don’t need to put a label on it, but I need you to know that this is more than casual for me.” I feel his lips press against the top of my head. “I’m falling for you, Lexi. I’m falling… and I don’t want to fucking stop.”

“Jake.”

It’s a whisper.

A plea.

I’ve been fighting my feelings for him. Trying to convince myself that falling isn’t an option. Telling myself that loving Jake will break me when he leaves.

It’s fucking useless.

I can’t deny the truth anymore.

“I feel the same way, but…” I hear his sigh of relief, but I don’t understand it. “You’ll be leaving, Jake. You being in Tennessee is only temporary.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

My heart skips a beat, and my belly does a strange, unexpected flip-flop.

Hope.

It’s there, deep down.

But I’m afraid to latch onto it.

“I can’t ask you to uproot your life.”

“You don’t have to ask,” he says, rolling onto his side to face me. He props his head up on his arm. “There’s nothing keeping me in Florida, Lexi. All I have is my business, and I can do that from anywhere. It shouldn’t be hard to figure out what I need to get licensed in Tennessee. The only reason I haven’t already is because I wasn’t sure how you felt, if you could see this thing between us going somewhere. I didn’t—don’t want to put pressure on you.”

“Jake. What about your family? Friends? I can’t be the reason you leave everyone behind.”

He blows out a heavy breath.

Running his fingers through my hair, his voice is quiet when he responds. “I don’t have anyone, Lexi.”

I open my mouth to argue, because surely there must be someone.

Everyone has someone, even me, and my mom gave me away like an unwanted pet.

Jake stops me from talking by kissing me gently on the lips.

“I lost my parents the day I graduated high school.” His voice cracks, and my heart hurts for him.

“What happened to them?”

Jake closes his eyes and takes a slow, deep breath.

“Some classmates thought it would be fun to get the party started early and decided to start drinking before the ceremony. Guess they lost track of time and thought they’d be late. In their rush to get to graduation on time, they ran a red light and plowed through my parents’ car in an intersection.”

I grab hold of Jake’s hand, trying to offer him some measure of comfort.

“While I was listening to some guest speaker drone on about the future, my parents lost theirs.”

“Jake…”

“They died instantly. At least, that’s what the police told me.”

“My god…” How fucking awful.

I imagine the police told him that thinking it would comfort him to know they didn’t suffer.

But there’s no comfort in tragedy.

Jake is the one who suffered.

“I’m so sorry, Jake. I know they’re only words, and they don’t do a damn thing to help, but—”

“Thank you.” He squeezes my hand, as if apologizing for cutting me off, but he doesn’t want to hear useless platitudes. I don’t even blame him.

“The kids in the other car?” I ask.

“The guy driving survived, but his girlfriend and his two best friends weren’t so lucky.”

Damn.

Five people.